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Pyre Oct 7
I've been trying to fill a void
It's gruesome work really
So many ******* Polaroids
With nothing to see really

I still don't remember when
This dark empty whole appeared
I just remember you left, then
He sat there, as if he'd been here

At least the night, she holds stars
This presence, sits next to me
Smoking cigarettes, eating bars
I think it too wants to forget me

He's even tried to swallow me whole
Taking over every single blood cell
I was so drunk, he almost had my soul
I couldn't do anything, but ******* yell

Now he just sits next to me
Trying again...
Every other sad week
And when

And when I think about you
It tastes like love
And when I call your name
It tastes like love
And when I see you
It tastes like love
And when I feel your presence
It tastes like love
And when I have something
Something close to heart
It tastes like love
Every time
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Nothing Outside Everything in
Paras Bajaj Sep 9
She gave everything;
to the one who lives miles away.
She took everything;
from the one who lives near.

She is light;
to the one who likes the darkness.
She is dark;
to the one who likes her spark.

She played along;
with the one who always wins.
She won;
against the one who can't see her lose.

She fell in love;
with the one that never tried.
She fell in hate;
with the one that never lied.

Her heart is warm;
for the one who don't care.
Her heart is cold;
for the one who is always there.
Instagram: mr.parasbajaj
Nina Sep 7
If my presence
Leave a scar in your heart
Please let me go
So you won't have to torture yourself
By having me around
Omar Kawash Sep 6
I’ve been trying for several months
to write you a letter

Not for lack of dialogue;
I lacked the letters to simply compose.

A letter of love.

A letter of respite.

& yet, here, I write:

a letter of extrinsic motivations
a letter of intrinsic fulfillment
In the Garden, by the Creek,
Stands a Tree –
A Weary Willow, weeping, in
A prayerful plea:

“The scoffing Oaks hold
All their leaves,
But mine wither in this winter;
Don’t You see?!”

But, oh, what She
Doesn’t yet know
Is that, now, below the ground,
Growing down, and reaching out –

Hidden to sight or sound –
Are her Roots, preparing Her
To bear a thing no Oak has ever known:


So, may Her weeping turn to singing
For spring is bringing
A New Beginning
…In the Garden, by the Creek.

It doesn't feel right
To be angry,
To be sad,
To have envy.
We want to just have
Peaceful, happy living.

But they are called emotions for a reason:
It's not just the happy and hopeful,
It's also the dark and scary,
The distracted and tired.

It has been said
That the body is a "field of sensation."
A field may have an abundance of the same produce,
But different sections
Can receive different presence.

Living in the present
Does not mean that everything will be fine,
Yet also does not necessarily mean vice versa

When a wrong isn't done toward a party,
When wrong is only pumped inside the body,
The body feels balanced and cleansed
For when the happy feelings return.

If foxes have holes
And birds nests,
So wrongs share a duplex with rights
In the body's quarters.
After all, did not life
Originate from darkness itself?
Again, I'm not spot on about how I see the world, but just based on what I hear. I mainly derived this poem today from going to a meditation session today and feeling how, even if I wasn't fully centered for those five or ten minutes, that the meditation still continues to offer something.
Creator Sun Aug 26
Do they see me?
Do they hear me?

Can you see me?
Can you hear me?

Am I here?
Do I exist?

Those are just some questions that run through my mind,
Everytime they look away, don't respond, don't acknowledge;
I wonder if you know that I'm here,
But you just don't care.

They never do, do they?

Can you hear me?
Have you ever felt isolated? Like when you've been ignored by someone? The sad thing is that I'm sure that all of us have felt the feeling of loneliness before.
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