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This is all me in my head-
the shaking hands and the
emptiness that I feel
but is it just that I don't feel enough
or so much
that I'm shutting down-
sleeping away my days
going into nights where I stare up
at the sky and wonder why
my life is the way that it is.

I can't tell why I'm crying- because
I feel nothing
complete loss of anything-
but I know that things will not alway be this way because
I remember times when I did feel-
so hard
so fast
so intense
that this all must just be my body
trying to react to something
that it does not know what it is reacting to

What is going on
why am I so numb?
This is all in my head-
this is on me-
it will be okay-
the feeling will come back-
but for now I'll sit.
Em MacKenzie Aug 8
Who gave permission to paint the inside of my eye lids,
closing them was the only door I had to escape each day.
I’ve knocked down monuments and blew up all the power grids,
and yet there’s sounds, thoughts and memories I can’t keep at bay.

Someone needs to cover their tracks,
I’d rather gut wrenching honesty than sugar coated lies.
I’m not obliviously naive I drown myself in facts,
connecting invisible dots and stretching coincidences and ties.
I saw a rainbow, though it’s hard to distinguish if it was just in my mind,
and I tell you her beauty can even turn the heads of those who are blind.

The game of chess I left years before;
the pawn on it’s side that I placed the blame.
The knight, king and queen are strewn on the floor,
did I happen to mention that I lost the game?

Losing my path that I’ve been following,
though indecisive I’ve always been one to lead,
and with these objections I’ve been swallowing
it’s a wonder my throat hasn’t begun to bleed.

Someone needs to cover the cracks,
‘cause the water’s rushing in as time goes by.
All I feel is cold shoulders and turned backs,
not sky or ocean but veins to match each eye.
I’ve got a million confessions on my tongue, but the words I just can’t find,
and I tell you her beauty can even turn the heads of those who are blind.

I swore I opened the thirteenth door
but I found myself upon floor,
and dragged myself until I was tattooed with rug burn.
Experiencing an implosion from my core,
flame’s extinguished but I feed the fire more,
I’ve always played with matches, I guess I’ll never learn.

I lay watching the clouds
change shape into my distractions,
all hitting my brain so loud
I wish to turn it down by fractions.
Feeling isolated within crowds,
and feeling excluded from my own factions,
I hide my heart but it’s well endowed,
and it’s all yours despite my words and actions.
I'm sick
And you're with her
And I'm with me
He moved
Or maybe I did
I'm not quite sure
What Spanish has to do with this
Lost in thoughts
Half dream
Half reality
Doing my best
Not to obsess or
Fall apart
In my tiny corner
Wiping my nose
Roaming the halls
In my mind
Desperate for anything
But especially you

It's truly a bit
That I still miss him
So long gone
Might as well be dead
In a hospital bed
But I hope to God
In whom I have no faith
That he'll call me someday
And everything
Will be okay

I hate you when you're laughing
Because you're not laughing
With me
That isn't fair
Life isn't fair
That's why you're
Over there and
Not looking at me
Is disgusting
And I'm full of it
I guess it's best
That I stink alone
And forget about the good times
Picking out music
Awkward compliments
Smiling through
A water glass
Nothing lasts
I'm hyper-dramatic
I think I'm officially brain dead. Take me away, boys.
Tyler Matthew Jun 21
I don't forget that I love you
when we disagree.
My dear, I have learned humility
through my shortcomings.
Sometimes I sympathize with Pluto;
once a planet, taken seriously,
orbiting mysteriously
at the edge of what is known.
Now, demoted to little more
than a frozen rock
somewhere out there beyond care,
only locatable
by its relation to Neptune.
My love, I am estranged by you,
though I dare not speak it directly
for fear that I might
plant a seed of fault in you -
a **** that is hard to uproot,
I know.
So, you can go on being Neptune -
I'll stay at your limits
and hope you'll turn to me and smile.
Honestly, I don't know what I've written. I just wrote it.
Esther Krenzin Jul 2018
As the rolling hills pas by
I wonder where they go
where they come from
and how something so beautiful and rural
could be created with a single thought
Such power and freedom
I cannot comprehend
But oh, to be able to mold your
Create your dreams
And control all that is around you
What I would give to have
that power
But then I come to the realization
that I do
Everything I need is within my grasp
All I need is to open my
to what I already posses.

-Esther L. Krenzin -
Ray Dunn Mar 25
Why are you trying
so hard to lose your mind?

My dear,
Just grab my hand.
Just some rambling haha
Tony Tweedy Mar 16
Seven billion poets and rising. Fourteen billion ears and no one can hear.

If my words go unread and my voice goes unheard, did I ever exist.

I don't know if a bear did but I did when I was camping.

If we call the start a big bang when it goes will it be the little whimper or the even bigger bang?

Is it true that ****** shoes are nailed on?

I used to be on hormone therapy.... but she put up her prices.
Derekis Feb 12
shades beautifully linger at the end of the line

a grey strand of fate twirls in the vast blue sky sea, bereft of clouds plainly for all to see

an earthly flower comes forth from humble roots, blooming in late winter against common sense

slowly welcoming the thread, entwined by both gloom and faith, incredible feelings bursting forth

a silent dream wakes, unable to communicate the magic experienced by a heart's crumbling side

snowy figures gather to witness, trembling in both cold and fear.

the portal is about to open wide, as wide as the possibility every one of us has to bare

and in time, life slows down, minute by minute, second by second until the moment is frozen.

all to gaze into the cataract of precious images seen by he who dreams, the lord of the one word, the stigma of existence.

from the bloom, a distorted angel is born, a fueled descending, a fall never ending, a being made of prayers never answered

in closer ending, a breaking tendering, a death drum ends a static dream as sorrowful nails are driven into all men's hearts.
Esther Krenzin Nov 2018
So high, that you could touch the clouds
The world below looked so fragile and small
The lives and worries a single speck amidst the grains of sand.
City lights glowed like tiny stars, blinking in and out of existence following the rythm of code
like the algorithm of a computer.
What once felt so big, is now but a ghost
What once felt so small, is now invisible to the eye--
but not to the heart.
-Esther L. Krenzin-
High in the embrace of a plane, what do you see when you look below?
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