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Tori Schall Feb 2020
With shaking hands I grasp yours
I cannot run away.
You are lying ever colder now,
You're sleeping through the day.

And at night, you shall rise
from your body, through the roof
to the sky, where you shall lie
But I need to see the proof.

They say Heaven's where you'll be,
but you see, I don't believe
all I hear are all the lies
When I look into their eyes.

But if it's true, then I cry
Because I won't see you again.
And I know, you'll say I'll go to Heaven too.
But if Heaven is a place,
I'll never grow my wings.
I'll be dragged straight down, into Hell.
Daan Feb 2020
I, on and off, catch myself asking why
and hushing my worries by guessing: 'just try',
which fails to answer the question so wry,
what are we doing and does someone know why?

People have told me to just go along,
whatever happens, the bad makes you strong.
Others compared, saying: 'you have it sweeter
than most who are born and early on greet her.

Many have said:
'please, just go to bed'.
But that's where I cry:
'Thoughts, please, tell me why!'.

I reckon to crack on ain't no full-time solution,
there's many more worries, like death or pollution.
And sometimes my guess is: 'it's goals I should seek,
to chase after change, even just for a week.'

The passing of time, more delightful when doing,
asides the asks loved and the asks worth their booing.
It may easily be, it differs for many
or for some we don't know, there isn't even any.

Now when the asking is on,
I need it less gone.
When the asking is not,
I'm amused by the thought:
I'm probably doing
something worthwile.
And the 'no question, no bluing'
alone makes me smile.

Even if blurry, it all has it's aim,
there's just no instructions to life's little game.
Sometimes you ask: 'How do I live up?'
sometimes you reply.
They both have a purpose, so please do not give up
on asking the why.
There's ups and downs,
purpose and frowns.
My personal solution/long term goal is loving,
showing love and making others happy in whatever
way I can.

But it certainly is not particularly bad or good to question that sometimes.
Things don't have to be wholly bad or good.

Now and then, that's easily forgotten.
zahra ly Feb 2020
hi, i know it's hard
but
can we please just
make it clear?
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2020
They asked, "Who are you?"
For what, silence was the answer

They asked, "What are you doing?"
For what, silence was the answer

They asked, "Are you deaf?"
For what, silence was the answer

They asked, "Are you crazy?"
For what, silence was the answer

They said enough is enough
For what, silence was the answer

They said, we are tired
For what, he/she replied
Now it's your time to learn

The next chapter
Genre: Observational
Theme: He/She was as simple as silence, and as complicated as silence.
Maha Jan 2020
I don't know
If my answer will always be
That I'm afraid of thinking about
Is it safe to say,
you should read this one backwards too. It's a conversation between two people.
Aaron E Jan 2020
Each is given their canvas
Open air along the brief respective flashes of time
We whittle gasping attempts at a connection

With only any placeable frames that we’ve collected
Hammer dissonance to Xanadu

Feather in the contrast as a method of description

or discretion.
____

Building a context

heft upon a quickly fading gust
Just a divvied introduction of trust as a reflection.

Left as signal threading the reverence into message

Let me bury symbols in code and seed a weapon.
____
_____

Let me choose a frame and build a picture growing out to the edges
Filling seconds with deference
Knowing breath is the setting, for where the grey areas are

Levy loosening gaze, and form a tinctured impression of the glimpse I’ve incepted, though the lesson I’m guessing won’t fare to carry the cadences very far.

Tarry not for fear of ones inept reflection, bury not thy fierce direction.

Into the void.
Into the depths.
To build the frame.
To will the question.
I’ve been doing more of these on my phone, due to time constraints. I’m hoping it doesn’t affect the formatting negatively.
Mystic Ink Plus Jan 2020
How many of us are dead?
No one spoke
Raise the hand, who are alive.
No one did

We
May
Be
Trapped
Between
Those two worlds
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Cold Silence
ZACK GRAM Jan 2020
sometimes i think to myself

yes we all experience pain different ways..
so it makes me think

what if mine are worse?
what if  i been in pain for so long
so long that i dont know what its like to feel normal?

i try not to realize my whole body hurts
feels like im going breath to breath
WHAT ABOUT YOU?

think as if my heart murmurs
feels as if i have a vein
from my leg up my side
all the way thru my heart
into my shoulder into my left hand
even touching my brain

i feel pressure non stop
everytime i move i hear bones crack
soo...
i just wonder???
do i not feel pain an if a normal person was me?
would they still be here to tell this story?
hmm?
Pauline Stevinia Jan 2020
Why everything always seems wrong?
Is it what i’m doing that’s wrong?
Is the desire of a happiness is a mistake?
Is the urge to reach a dream is a flaw?
Is breathing also a fault?

Or maybe..

Being born itself is a mistake?
me Jan 2020
how can i keep you
in my lungs when i can't see
a future with your eyes
in it?
lowkey like this style of poetry but also my long poems ab eating disorders r pretty cool too. thank u for reading my poem i genuinely appreciate it a lot
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