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Everything is too
sugar-spine, salt-lipped,
staticstitched and jitterglow.

I can’t sit still
without turning into
a girl-shaped emergency.

I keep my synonyms in jars—
one for ache,
one for almost,
one for the word I made up
that means I miss you so much I become a faucet.

Language is a loose tooth.
I tongue it until it bleeds metaphor.
Call it poetry.
Call it coping.
Call it anything but what it is:
me, peeling the world into vowels
because I’m scared if I say what I mean,
you’ll hear it.

And then what?

You’ll answer?

You’ll echo?

You’ll send a voice memo
saying same
and I’ll combust on the Q train
like a well-read matchbook?

God, I am so
caption-core,
pun-drunk,
rhyme-accident-prone.
I named my stomach pit afterthought.
I named my wrists reminder.

And I named you
don’t.

But I still say it
every time I open my mouth
to speak.
Some relationships are a loose tooth. You know you’re going to lose them, but you keep poking at it. This poem is about that—about obsessive love, about knowing better and doing it anyway, about aching where someone once was and still is. Language with a wobble. Feeling that throbs. The before and after all at once.
Ana21 Apr 4
I wear the mask of too many roles,
Caretaker, rebel—lost in their tolls.
I give, I bend, but never break,
Hiding parts of me for others' sake.

I ask myself, "Is this enough?"
Is my best a gift, or a never-ending bluff?
I wonder if they see the cracks inside,
The parts of me I’ve tried to hide.

When things go wrong, I pull away,
Lost in regret, in a sea of dismay.
I cry, I doubt, I ask, “Why me?”
Stuck in the same cycle, never free.

I fear they’ll see me as a lie,
Fake, rude, disloyal—just a disguise.
But deep within, I know the truth,
I hide, I shrink, to avoid the proof.

I suppress the honesty, the raw, the real,
For fear they’ll judge what they can’t feel.
I keep my truth locked far away,
A prisoner of my own dismay.

Isolation brings a fleeting peace,
But it’s the silence that won’t cease.
With the few who truly see,
I try to feel what it means to be me.

But even in those moments, I fear,
That I’ll be left, unseen, unclear.
So I wonder, in the quiet of night,
Am I enough, or just a fight?

I don’t know what my purpose is yet,
But in this struggle, I’ve learned to forget.
I’m supposed to lead, but all I see,
Are the shattered pieces of who I could be.

I carry self-doubt and endless strain,
Validation from others, my constant chain.
But in the dark, I’m left to roam,
Wishing for a place to call home.
This reflects the internal struggle of feeling torn between roles, doubting one's worth, and fearing judgment. It explores the weight of emotional isolation, the constant search for validation, and the silent yearning to break free from self-imposed chains. The rawness of vulnerability and the quiet longing for peace echo throughout. It’s a reflection on the pain of self-doubt and the struggle to find one’s authentic voice.
NK Mar 16
Take me to the movies
Tell me something you mean
Give me something I can cry about
Give me something I can feel

I've been miserable
My heart's been impaired
My mind's enraged
As if I would break

But these tears
It won't come out
Because I'm afraid
Please, let me cry
I think I was taught unconsciously to ignore my feelings. Especially the little stuff that would make me upset. But lately, these little upsetting moments keep pilling up, but I can't cry, because somehow it's too trivial. I want to find a big enough of an excuse so tears can fall down my eyes. Like movies, something touching  or scary. But I think I'm afraid showing vulnerability.
Descovia Jan 2021
Memories replay in slow motion of my last moment before throwing my soul into the abyss.  

The void of whiteness.
Is my new home.

The wrath of this dying world, spared me from karma and now an irreversible act been committed by my own doing!

I chose to follow this path. I tie no, faults or blame to anyone.  Condemn anyone around, you for what sake?

What would you give or take?

To find peace within my eternal absence?

Is that how, you wish to remember me?

Various emotions all calling out to me.  The weight of consciousness decreasing, unable to vividly, and physically express concerns that are no longer part of me.

People whom entered my life from the past to future fill my eyes.

  Now, they all surround me for the last goodbye.

Not the reunion, a peace bringer would slay for. Where we cannot touch or exchange words.

My magic will live on!
Ever more so, even if my essence expires.

I've searched for solace.

I've even conspired against time

To search beyond the means of obtainable comfort.

Remember my voice

One day, you may not hear it anymore

Remember my touch....

All you'll have left to
remember me by is the wind....

I lived to immortalize our values

When our values could have immortalized us....

I lived to bring all of you to life!

Even though mine was treated
like it's a game
My life is not fit
For a book or frame

This life meant to be.
Was never meant for me.
Mindless self indulgence.
Just another memory.

Is there more after this purpose?

I am not absolutely certain.

No more troubling questions.

My apologies for being a burden.
Alexandra Oct 2015
It's been raining all day
And how fitting it seems
We knew it'd happen eventually
So why am I having trouble breathing?

I watch you fall through emotions
Like the rolling thunder outside
You try to understand my mind
But oh, I've broken your heart so

I'm not sure what delusion I was in
That this wouldn't be a messy conclusion
Or that I could somehow make you understand
That loving someone doesn't mean they're best

You're no good and I know it
I'm no good though I've tried
But your touch is like ******
Toxic as it seems
It takes me higher and higher

And I've played these games for far too long
Running away from a truth I've known
So how can I be so surprised
That you lash out and scream 'why'

I dream about the day years from now
When I run into you on the street
You'll have her hand in yours
And I'll be alone
We'll catch eyes, and for a brief moment
We'll go back to those times of love and loss
But then we'll smile, and casually walk on

And that, dear man, is why I can't find the words to speak
I know this is really the end

— The End —