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I'll write this in blue
Because it's how I feel
And I can't help it

I'll write this in green
But I don't know what it means
I don't go outside

I'll write this in red
For everything I hadn't said
They've never really left my head

I'll write this in black
To forget all that I lack
And who I could of been
Consumed and assimilated,
Into the shadow of hatred.
Filled with roses colored red.
I am just filled with dread.
Of what I'm facing ahead.
Is it love or hate or both?
One more time, one more time.
I’ll just do this one more time.
One last time and I’ll be fine.
I’ll just do this one more time.

One more time, one more time,
The crimson red is such a beautiful sight.
One more time and I’ll be fine.
Let me just do this one more time.

One more time, one more time.
The silvery gleam greets me once again.
One last time, I’ll be fine.
I’ll just do this one more time.

One more time, one more time,
Fresh roses are piling around me.
Is that you? Cruel angel of the world?

Take me away, one last time.
Another poem about self harm, I never seem to run out of those. It's a bit more compact this time, I hope you enjoy.
Bailey Oct 4
Our sky
So blue
Horizons rise
Night sky cool
Peace will come
To ease our sky
And one day
Red will rise
Instead of blue
Poetic T Sep 28
I'll swerve in to the path of your lane,
your words are never enough
             to make me hit the hard shoulder.


I'll 911 your **** into the submission,
     you'll never swerve by..

I'll make you,

        barrel roll in to the suburbs
                          and
                          you watch....

With a pipe
                       and smoke, submit to my rule.


You'll never drive your words like my rules,
                          Irregular rhyme,
  that the wheel will lose its traction...
                                and you'll lose,
        the tread of the road..

Only the tarmac holds the tread of decent,
                      wording that doesn't slip...

You cant hold any traction on the words that
                drive faster than anything you try...


                                to grip beyond the first red light.

I'm green but I run faster then anything
        that you have in park..

              you'll try to rev, but you stall before
         I've even passed you on a repeat...
                                  repeat
                                                    repeating
the same round,
                    That you were playing when I
started this course,

                                    but you haven't even started.

Just park up,
                  you haven't got the petrol to race my words.
                            your engines  already stalled...
Bede Sep 26
I am going out today
To see where I can go
Maybe I won't return again,
Lord i dont even know.

Would it be a blessing or a curse
To just put down my pen?
Why do i write, I feel contrite
To never write again.
Poetry conveys emotion. Poetry conveys power.
Jemima Mitra Sep 26
Amber flames lick moonlight off your forehead
Upon your beating chest I lay my bed
Your fire warms the jade stones trapped in your eyes
You swallow dark grey skies with your sunrise

And sometimes you will unleash your turquoise
In small dripping jewels I will lick the noise
To dry your face and speak against the storm.
Soon enough you return to feeling warm.

Red dwarf darling, you will blister my heart
Constellations on your back from the start
Have seduced and held hostage my fingers

This love that we share is one that lingers
A supernova shining for a while
Erupting through with your crooked teeth smile.
Ackerrman Sep 24
A desperate, burgeous experience,
Warm red light sneaks through the flimsy curtain
With briefcase and notes, no interference
From reason or conscience, not too certain
About scaling the walls of nihilism
And entering the warm head of dead-space,
Expanding my languid realism,
Rushing the end like a three legged race.
In the dying ashes of apathy
I accidentally caught a glimpse:
Dark and degenerated, flayed clarity,
Depravity... Empathy... Caustic rinse,
To the bone, the skeleton is not white,
I relate most to women of the night.
Must read more Oscar Wilde, or less.
Amanda Sep 24
Roses are colored red
Also can be blue
Artificial dyes turn white ones
Into shades of every hue
A silly note I wrote after I found a rainbow pen at work hahaha
You don't look the same
after I stopped cauterizing the facade  
which peeled away
with every act of attrition
exposing every caveat
you tried to warn me about.

Now you're bile-slicked and bent
languorously limp,
serpentine without the grip
pooling in regret
to the tune of the parrotted philosophy
you used to make yourself bigger than me
but how could you be?

You only ever existed inside of me.
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