Connor 1h

i stand in the mirror for hours
wondering what it is about me that makes me so easy to replace
i stand over the sink and try to wash the words "use me" off my forehead
only to find out it was tattooed on to my skin
i run my fingers down my body and feel every single name of the boys that came after you carved on to me like a name on a grave stone
i place my hand on my heart but feel no beat

because see they talk about death as in the ones who leave forever, but they never talk about the ones that have died but are still walking this earth
they don't talk about the ones with fake smiles and laughs that are just illusions
illusions so you can't see that they are just completely empty inside
a walking grave

i stand in the mirror for hours
wondering what it is about me that makes me so easy to replace

but now i know- no one can love someone that's already dead

Afiqah 7h

there’s a saying that goes,
“If you want to see an honest man,
pour him a drink”

so I went straight on with my gut
and I think I saw that side of him
soon after
he drizzled down
the thick bloodshot of cold red wine
I’ve poured for him, half-full
by the cellar
ultimately,
in that world,
that loud, dark, invidious shade of fantasy
a bewilderingly tortuous one,
things almost, completely
sold my soul out
how such evaporating heat
we foolishly infuse our body with
could be one’s call for breaking
it’s little wonder
seeing how
we all warily paint those masks on
every goddamned day
-a.

zee 8h

i am alone yet again,
wallowing in thick melancholy
letting the darkness seep onto my mouth
and onto my ribcage it accumulates,
turning my chest into an empty void of despair.

all alone, i gasp for air
but nothing seems to pass through
this black hole i created for myself.

all alone, i am afraid
afraid that this emptiness would swallow me whole
and leave me cold and numb, lifeless.

i am alone yet again,
and i'm out of breath.

i want to breathe, yet i also don't want to.

I come home to
nostalgia,
Here the pillars
of my childhood
lie crumbled and broken,
I must move on,
From your smiling eyes
if I ever want to find myself.
I remember all so clearly,
Those stormy days
of walking home from school,
You were always sitting on
the curb with a ball point
pen and my name
on your slow hands,
I was Cain and Abel,
Struggling under two
worlds,
one of sensuality and
one of pious obedience,

And you with your
eyes of philosophy,
you with your
smile that made you
look ancient and
newborn,
you-- standing
under rooftops,
rain drops falling
from your hair,
the bluest of blue
eyes,

I wish I could just
Forget you there.

Will 11h

Remember.
Relive.
Feel.
Focus.
Write.
Type.
Spell check.
Edit.
Share.
Post

My parents love me verily, true,
Yet I still feel the need for love, truer.

In the deepest hour of night,
Dawns a realization that they are mortal,
Everyday I feel so scared,
Alone if I am to stay,
Loneliness will kill me.

Loved by parents I am, but
Often I am so alone,
Very sad is this heart,
Engraved deep inside it,
Rosy name of my ideal lover.

My parents are of an average of 58.5 years now.

I hope that they live a long and healthy life until I die.

It is my requirement because apart from them I have no one else to call my own.

My HP Poem #1551
©Atul Kaushal
Dawn 18h

Shelter her
color her with life.
Grey eddies
the tainted disarray.

A sculpted jaw
protrudes above
our tented steeples
the cost of progress flails
with swollen eyes.

Trace it
the delicate bouquet
and discover
pure oxygen.

The blight has not reached her roots.

Inspired by: http://baxiaart.deviantart.com/art/Falling-622633613
Dawn 19h

Outstretched
danger beguiles.
No piercing vow
deters the anomalist.

Perception
blurs encapsulating
the murky depths.
Thrown caution sighs invitingly.

Mercurial
creatures glean
pliant, translucent.
Pungent, the gratifying sting--
a certainty foretold.

Inspired by: http://m0thart.deviantart.com/art/origin-9-633046420
Dawn 19h

Striving,
stabbing fire
writhes against
the incumbent abyss.

Battling
sacred strands
delineate and twist
inhibiting obscurity.

Licking
the frozen flame
a whirling dervish
swims against the tide.

Striking
hot, seething coals
agitate tranquility
in arresting fashion.

Inspired by: http://chaosfissure.deviantart.com/art/Siren-643402306
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