Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Maeve May 2020
Oh,
Why,
Girl,
Would you
Make me
C    R    Y
Please help me
To understand
Why you choose
To make me feel
Like a discarded tin can
That’s been left in the rain
You don’t see the tear stains
I’m rusting, and I’m in pain
I really thought we were friends
But I was never your main. I’m too lame.
Can I really be blamed for liking you.
There was nothing that I wouldn’t do
To make you laugh, to see your smile—so worthwhile
When I think of you now, I will always feel bile
Rising up in my throat as I choke on my feelings
To love me for me isn’t easy; you’re not ******
I’ve let my insecurities run freely, and I’m feeling queasy
Because I’ve been placing all these unfair expectations on you
Like Icharus I flew too close to the sun, and you pushed me away
My newfound wings have gone up in flames . I’m quite the pest.
It’s for the best. You can rest as I fall from the heavens.
Heavy in heart, but lighter in soul. I’m out of control.
It gets old, not feeling like you’re whole, and these holes,
They leak tears. It’s a fear as you watch my descent.
Some things just aren’t meant to be, so I flee,
And you lose the chance to hurt me, break me.
Once again, I must perpend at this end,
Girl, what  did I do wrong?
neth jones May 2020
i went looking for you tonite
           in some daring fit of vision
i sought after you in my own flesh
i stared through the screen for you
i near blinded myself in a streetlight

i took on a fierce drinking session
                                      - a pounding of the bellows -
                                   i fought for you in the fire fight
and in a blight of fists
        i fought amongst barbarian company...

trench

                          ...though i thought i'd dredged my fill
                   i was shy by many-many shards
            and   one
                    big 
                  aching 
                 glory
                           and still... no you

i stumble

a drenching
i got dazed and a bit ****** up
with sick up in my gory hands
my mates look foreign at me
and i can't  get them words

my friends will not be moulded to assist
treacherous
they are leaving me behind

you are demonstration, demon and a cost
you wear a fancy shiny sleeve
     flirty
i love you
leisured up
                 you lure
                drunken ravage
fierce hole
        take some finance
i earned it *****
CONTAMINANT !

.......this is not you
    you're not here
(i am adamant)

on a mission
i pummel on the veils
in a fusion i rose the dead for a consult
but they fumbled 'bout awkward
much confusion
they picked at their seems
avoided eye contact
mumbled
probably wanted brains
or replacement parts :
a useless summoning

looking for you
i am well travelled
time and space and different versions of stuff
it's been spectacular
i've seen the bulk and can make a bigger picture
this odd fella laughed and gave me some kind of herb
i'm massive
i'm quite mad
in my lunacy I'll hunt you down
moon n' sea
gather you
a study
ungut beauty
splay ; enforce you a spread of wings
  pin
    display
      and examine
I'll be utter with your subject
be thorough with your data
because I'll never be forgiven
thieving away
the god from beauty....
and...
...and...

and i'm sure your just round the corner
a collision in the scriptures
and we'll merge

I'll make the night
      livid mural
stars and crashes
         flee out into the night
jabber
now it is milk
and i am tourist
in my own hand
thought fails fluid
spill
detested
demolition
upheaval
Axxsh May 2020
galactic eruption
interrupts a stroll down the memory lane
linear meta brain
meticulously performing the act of
self restraint
selfless worships
now, lesser in terms of quantitative hints
the never ending path
that circumvents the colourless
conscience
it contravenes the limitless scenes of a liberating regime
trust plummets into the hands of perceptive fiends
taken in
taken instead of countless numbered pills
a train of exaggerated kin
tracks back to those with highly assumed authorities
amidst the group of avid anti-socials
vividly varied in opinions
from a sword to a pin
essentially assembled to speak against the ancient ones
a neoteric synchronization
scaling screaming lexemes
the scathed silk screeches
soaked in acid  
flamed till the ashes can be smelled
but never seen
seemingly insignificant statements
covert and pristine
so in this lockdown perdiod....i've got a lot of time to brood...a lot of time to think about where i', headed....well that's the glass-half-full version of it...
i somehow induced a writer's block ....which is quite weird because i dont really consider myself as a proper writer...im just here to rant...i guess i am even having a difficulty in finding the right words to say...it's a chaos ...it's like a swarm of at least a million words soar through my mind when im about to put my chords to the work....i guess i'll write my way through it.
Caleb Coffman May 2020
Only some people know my true Darkness,
But no one has seen my bright Light,
I total almost 20 dark related poetry,
and only four romantic poetry.

The off chance you see any of my non-dark poetry,
Count yourselves lucky as you were spared my pain,
Just to make this free verse poem,
I’m pulling from the very depths of my being.

To tell the truth I have said most in early forms,
To tell anything new now is just bad,
My Shadows are making me feel true pain,
As it is all just a plan for me to be Dragged Down

To call me crazy and a ****** is just pure true,
Only because I own a House in the Black Forest,
So far away that no one can truly hear the Screams of my soul,
As I drift farther Deep into Hallows Eve

As I drift farther into the dark I can’t see a raging Inferno,
It can’t even be put out with Today’s Rain or Tomorrow’s Storms
Cracks form in the sky during the storms,
Because the storm wants freedom that’s Unrequited

Darkness continues to envelop the world,
Only a Light so pure can hinder its control,
A switch made of shadows and light,
Can be used to switch from light or switch to dark
So this was a poem to sum up how I usually feel because of who I am
neth jones May 2020
every immoral chime
      every grievance
every ventilated crime
           is within place
        yet
        it is not at peace

   a natural allowance persists

  much art makes up cruelty
  (generations in the nursing)
  correct in the wilderness but
  a curdle within The Human Idea

a great work is needed to charm
   to able us harmless
    a reigning
   and rebraining ..
    .. a self applied restriction

                      -    the Whole Wild World wearies of our project
                          ( earn our continuation )
neth jones May 2020
Thirsty Things First
I know you're hurting
  punting through The Pleasure Heap
tough talk of The Ween
whilst keening still
   panting after the next explosion
  the next ***** exploration
the next intoxication
        preening before -
                      -  your darting eye
    the next liberty toward your oblivion
Axxsh Apr 2020
nowhere left to go
to roam around like my fingers
on a velvet paper field.
I feel distant interruption
intervene the altruistic crime scene
i prefer the roughness of noise
the stealthy supremacy of grain
over the oblivion
the obvious reason being the auditory
disfunction
a function
that's always heard of
but never seen.
I dive into the nuages
the new ages of the persistent sycophants
seeking the attention of the
OH-ALL-MIGHTY
that might roar up quite the anxiety
into a gullible mind.
yes, my ink's red ( i used a red pen)
i write from within
with the slightest of hints
of a proto universe
i've heard of the celestial beings
disappearing into the scenes
keep up the culture of giving in
nurtutring the neurons of those
who've locked themselves in
i mean
i can't speak but that's enough
enough to get it into your distance
consistent approach
are you listening?
flickering about in vast intervals
turbulence, i soar through
tore stooping down the
fabricated fabric of verisimilitude
similarly acknowledged but promised
to be kept seperate but equal, continuous
levelling down of the sequel
lower in position,
my questions are up to you
solipsistic depression
i endure the pain
the finest sight of stoicism
no withering
no complaints
a plain variation in the
virtual weather
the direct pressure forced
upon the grounds
to hold upto the
astounding mess.
**
**
Vala Apr 2020
Empty streets, cold sheets.
Nature will not curb her wrath,
Empty arms, gaping hearts torn apart by foolish parts.
What makes you wallow in pity and sorrow?
separated by glass and screen isn't this how it's always been?
Trapped alone, trapped with strangers, trying to avoid potential danger.
kept apart to keep you safe but yet you want to crack this safe.
Does it really matter? Twisted news an open wound hidden now by wicked spatter, you hide your face in open day yet those who don't still face the latter.
Repose in ainxous endless anger yet I still work as tensions strangle, you complain of solitude and distance matters,
yet I've longed to have those patterns,
to be open and raw, to sleep away my flaws to have time to heal what has broken and what to feel.
yet here you are, loss of work and faceless chatter.
I want a choice and I chose the clatter the words of mouth and open patterns, arm's length is not enough to keep me from falling down the ladder. I can't stand the noise the open voice " let me out!" It pleads through shallow ease as I grit my teeth.
"Let me in" I beg, mindless nights and pointless days I need those to **** this haze, yet here you beg to risk and rave to open end this massive grave.
Just let me be.
Just let me lie.
I'd rather not but would rather die.
So as you wait, open heart barred gate, think of me, and where I want to be.
And leave me there, empty heart.
Lying bare.
Mark Wanless Mar 2020
i was a rant for many times
of life love existence
i felt it all in ignorance
you betcha
Nicholas Mar 2020
I left the pack
Cause of too many whispers
And all of the filters.
You want the listeners
And I want the strippers
They are not prisoners
They are practitioners
Unlike you “thinkers”
You gossip like sisters.
Talking **** in your slippers
And all I hear are whimpers
From all these high up sinners
Reading made up scriptures.
Next page