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Creator Sun Oct 6
Hey
Hey.
You probably won't see this,
But what I want to say is that I.
I hate you.

You're stupid.
Filthy.
Unreasonable.
There isn't enough words to describe your awfulnesses.

So why does it hurt?
Why does it hurt when I push you away?
Why does it hurt when you chase someone else?
Why does it hurt so much?

As much as I want to say 'I hate you!',
I realise that I.
I.
I love you.

It's stupid, isn't it?
If I told you this, you'll laugh at me.
Reject me. Pity me.
I just know you will.

And that's why I never told you.
That's why I kept pushing you away.
That's why I'm drifting away, drifting away
From my light. You.

But absence makes the heart fonder,
Doesn't it?
It hurts so much, it feels like I've
Left my heart behind. With you.
I'm salty that my poem got lost due to a connection error. Anyways, do you think this letter fits a Tsundere or Utsudere better? I'm experimenting with letter formats in an attempt to raise my motivation for my scenario writing which is where I've been focusing most of my attention onto. I have a lit exam tomorrow too, so extra practice in analysing my own poem for me!
myrrh Sep 21
Endless struggles
Shrug away & fend against the endless hurdles
Feint & sway from self-pity that's internal
External words of wisdom & health are eternal saint
Convert hurt for something  more divinely quaint
Reminded that fate states & destiny is what awaits
Blinded by paranoia that one's mind creates
Find mistakes that cause focus on repercussions
Hopeless individual like the rest of your kind
There's beauty that we all align on this basis
Our collective tears could form an oasis
Daydreaming from being reflective on past cases
Stay believing that the sorrow is in its last traces
Pray the endless fray ends tomorrow, it'd be gracious
Littered with thousands of thoughts until we're senseless
Bitter from being weak & defenseless
आज काललाई जितियो
कसो उसले बिताएको

चार चक्के दानव
शैली : प्रयोगात्मक
विषय:अझै धेरै छ हेर्न, लेखेको कस्ले पो टार्छ र ?
Maddie Sep 6
Your fear and pain brings me anger
A beast
I never knew I had it in me
I want scream
To kick a wall
Punch a hole through this mess
Rip open a void
A black hole through this sickening situation
So Time stops
This feeling stops
I want to make your hurt stop
I witnessed
God's tear

When I look back
Genre: Dark Abstract
Theme: Helpless
Author's Note: I find human emotions in god. He laughes, he cries.
Alone watching tv
Contrasting my self image against characters I envy

I Eventually find emptiness
Who would’ve thought

Quickly but calmly
A bottle of interned coping serum is entombed in the freezer

Minutes go by and I almost forget to take my first dose of the night

But contrasting brings back my thirst

It used to taste terrible

Now it’s bearable

In a few minutes I’m done with the putrid beverage and cool more in the freezer

They go down as painfully as the last one

They’ve done nothing for me but make me feel more infected with loneliness, physically ill, and morbid.

This only set upon me more a more dismal state of mind

And it leaves me full of liquid sadness
Tammy Cusick Aug 22
Soft hands idling quietly by
snatching remnants of credibility
its cloak opaque to reflection
you grasp its hand,
like a double-edged sword
you hold on tight
wisping away into the night
never to be seen again.

The walls are dark and the smell is repugnant
death on its tongue
Decay in the teeth.
Smiling back as if a fun-house of mirrors
dubious, distorted, distraught
you hold on.

Cradling the noose like a new mother to its child
you gawk, admire, and dream
Of a darkness to bring you closer to the ledge.
Gently pushing formidable bounds
released to self-indulgence
you're alone.

As the world around you lights up only by screens
and reacts only by the ping of self-admiration.
A ghost among the blinded
walking slowly by as everything is in full speed.
Stuck in a repetitive loneliness
damnation of socialization
pity. pity. pity.

Pulling onto the strings of darkness
puppeting along madness
mastering hell as its vibrant and claw full of disappointment
you sit on the outside of the world
watching it comfortable in its cage.
Ken Pepiton Aug 14
words tucked into child minds forming in the mold,
depeche mode, fashion wisdom
blooming in
starstruck lunacy of lost meaning

****** Airline driving Jet Blue
as a sign, you know we

rise and ask redemption
this instant

toiling with tools the psalmist dreamed
and all the first cantors sang
in genuine gentle
spirit of...

genius (n.)
late 14c.,
"tutelary or moral spirit"
who guides and governs
an individual through life,

from Latin genius 
"guardian deity or spirit which watches over each person from birth; spirit, incarnation; wit, talent;"

also
"prophetic skill; the male spirit of a gens,"
originally
"generative power"
(or "inborn nature"),
from PIE *gen(e)-yo-,
from root *gene- "give birth, beget,"
with derivatives referring to procreation and familial and tribal groups.

Sense of
"characteristic disposition"
of a person is from 1580s.

Meaning
"person of natural intelligence or talent"
and that of "exalted natural mental ability"
are first recorded 1640s

and remaining in super position watching
until
we see we be agreed and symbiosis sets in

upto unto upon a time
stumbled into uttering urgent fervent

prayer, simple asking, what remains broken

what quest unmade, unmade imagined asif

this is life's book interpreting your
translation of reason into I'll go rythmic

waves rising from great notions stuck
in the mire at the bottom o' th'ocean

stirred up by trouble peace bringing in times of
see-change

settling in on of by bis more again or less
waiting is all suffer ever meant to mean,

mean men made each furrow seem
too hard to ***, in final
throes of
terminal toil

debitum in praesenti, solvendum in praesenti
debt due now, paid. It is finished.
Good news
darkness consummatum

light

fashioned in the mode of our time
powered for ever by happy Sisyphus's
rock rolled up
rock rolled down
by grace of gravity being the law

reach out

ceive con re de ceive (if you know

what I mean, taken for granted)

praesentium tedium t'do doodle do

touch faith, fingers fail, toe-tippy reach

topple the tinker-toy tower where war once reigned

back ground Johnny Cash praisin' Dylan from the dead

out in the desert, just doin my time--
waitin' by a pile of Hopi
nilhili-pili rocks rolling no more

sitting still in rasta farian blank spaces

between the pieces of we
carried to now as you see. We are in this real,
as real angel messages
made magnificent in worth as
words
worth deeming worship's solventum

songs from the po et tu brutes, breakin' rocks
back down the line,

scarlet thread sewn tendon
anchored to my zen minded ped-dance

kick the liar from his throne,
claim it for my own, my pile of flocci nauci

meaninglessness of weightless worship

turned on, with a merest touch.
No flame,
no night. Words alone reign un fused, un frozen,
new mercies
rising in the sunshine of a rich man
with a satisfied mind,

as time rolls by.

Cohen told us there is a crack in everything,
that's how the life gets in
this bubblin ethosphere we offer

as a sacred secret shown in light of all we share.

Clap clapper in liberty's cracked bell.
Let us lieve well enough alone for the time,

being once rung, listen,

other bells ring still with that pathos we share
logically as mere words.
floccinaucinihilipilification (n.)
"action or habit of estimating as worthless," in popular smarty-pants use from c. 1963; attested 1741 (in a letter by William Shenstone, published 1769), a combination of four Latin words (flocci, nauci, nihili, pili) all signifying "at a small price" or "for nothing," which appeared together in a rule of the well-known Eton Latin Grammar + Latin-derived suffix -fication "making, causing."
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