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XslyfoxX Sep 5
It’s been a long time since I’ve cared to divulge the thoughts inside my head
Wether it was to mourn or smile
So I’m not sure if the goal is to reach you in bed
Or to write anything worthwhile.
We used our words and we used our ignorance to reach each other wherever we were
Knowing we’d see it but knowing it’d change nothing- for better or worse.
And now maybe this is my curse.

The sad reality is I have what I love
And I have all I ever wanted but I’m alone with it all.
So in the dark some nights I close my eyes and you’re there.
But you aren’t there.
And some nights I think of writing and hoping for your reaction, but you aren’t there.

The truth is you aren’t here you aren’t there, but you’re somewhere. And you’re happy.
Like you deserve to me.
I picture your smile and the warmth of your palms
I’m grateful it’s no longer drugs that keep me calm.
Because those warm palms kept me close
and I’m the one who let go.
The smile made me weak
so I closed my eyes because weak couldn’t be me.
The truth is you were there… right there and offered me everything because you offered me you.
I walked away and broke your heart because even then I knew I wasn’t enough for you.
I was always a ghost that loved you.
I could never feel you there, and you couldn’t feel me.
I was a phantom who hoped my empty words and mediocre poetry would keep you with me.
I was never enough for you Ms. Pretty.
I was just selfish.
Mugerwa Muzamil Apr 2018
I have realised what it means
I met two lovers on the boulevard
All intertwined into
each other's universe
You would see
They're generously in love
It reminded me of us
Their eyes were looking
For each other's soul
It made me understand
that pairing is the theory
of every thing
I'm a broken man
Only need a mending
by your tolerant beauty
Realising goals
was everything for me
I forgot the moments
that suspend the laws
of nature
What we had was Artful
So real to give chance
to posthumous sensibility.
Jay earnest Oct 2022
Just told the person who'd Id cradle in my arms and whose head I'd rub and whose tears I'd wipe when she was having a panic attack to go
**** herself.
Just told the person whose stomach I would kiss and whose thighs I would caress up and down that she's a fat ugly *****.
Told the one person I'd confide in all my insecurities and whose sense of humor would have me laughing hysterically to never talk to me again.

It's all warfare, and there are no victors.
I'll just collect the remnants of my happiness and try to walk stoicly into the sun
audrey Aug 2022
my dearest darling,

when i die under the sun,
when the space next to you feels emptier,
when the carrier pigeons stop their run,
i want you to feel,
the colder morning skies
and the softer evening tunes.
i want it to hurt,
to feel bounded to carry on
to like other women and to think of me,
because at least i’ll know it mean something,
when the moon no longer shines over home.
Lance Mar 2022
Falling was the easiest.
Staying wasn't even that hard
Despite what they say.

The most difficult?
Knowing when to stop
and let go

It ****** a lot to not have it all.
It might've been different
It might have changed

If decisions were made
and things changed.

But I guess that's life's ultimate joke
To play you
and to remind you

It was never on your side..
To the readers, Live life to its fullest. Always choose what makes things grow around you or to you. Never make a decision youll regret not doing. Ever.
xavier thomas Jan 2022
-someone pray for my family to start moving forward.
-past regrets has my family still walking backwards.
-no gatherings, reunions pass due, no nothin’
-stay in contact mainly on Facebook or group texts.

-I never wanted this
-members can’t get past previous trauma that’s keeping them ******.
-most mindset are like “I don’t rock nor want to bother them.”
-man F**k that -ish
-let’s stick together, we still have time to heal over our egos,
stop trying to quit.

-family wishing to redo their prime past for a better paradise in mind.
-living now is the “fear.”
-since nobody wants to say it, I’ll express this  overbearing feelings.
-the fact my grandma still cooped up in the house feeling worthless
is dangerous cause she feels left out or no one wants to visit her due to “un-build relationships”.
-feeling unfit.

-most members from the Chi-Town calling me like I’m the man now.
-because they can’t get along nor grow together, so i’m their problem solver now.
-sad seeing the family drown, so I pick the pen up to write the words down.
-sometimes it’s embarrassing writing these words down
-but someone has to expose these generational curse truths now.
I’m just a Chicago kid
George Krokos Jan 2022
If at times we have to swallow the bitter pill of remorse
we may at first appear to sound much like that of a horse.
And when copious tears flow they tend to purify our being
leaving us with an inner peace and clearer sense of seeing.
From 'The Quatrains' ongoing writings since the early '90's.
Chloe Dec 2021
Time stands still
and nothing changes
I don’t know how to survive

Time stands still
and nothing changes
I take my life

If only there was
something perfect
I could exist
And if you were real
and I didn’t miss you
it would be different

In a dream
we fixed this
distance between us
I wake up
and everything changes
for the worst

He liked to watch
a woman struggle
I can’t change that
I’m no one’s savior
You’re not helpless
I am only here
to lift you up
so you can leave

Do you feel empowered yet?

And I would much rather
tear you down
so you will stay
But that’s not my agency
I am sorry for everything
I’m still not well
Where did you go?
Justin S Wampler Dec 2021
We were a trio.
Gone together,
mentally alone.

90's alternative had been playing for maybe
three-quarters of an hour, and at this point
we were all mostly toasted.
A shot of beer a minute.

Talking ****, shuffling the deck.

Nick laughed, Luke mocked.
I cheered them both on.
In that moment we all lived in the golden light
of youthful ignorance and concrete friendship
that can only be fully grasped by a drunken trio of guys
in their mid-twenties at 2:00 AM on an idle Thursday night.

We all cracked fresh cold ones and lit up fresh cigs,
and I raised the burning tobacco in a toast:
"To friendship!"

Luke matched my pose, left arm outstretched.
We caught each other's eyes, and without missing a beat
his right hand plunged the cherry into his left forearm.
I looked down and saw myself doing the same,
yet felt no pain. We stayed that way until our embers died,
and relit the remaining smoke off of a shared flame.
Nick never matched our level of commitment,
I doubt he even bears a scar these days.
My scar still itches from time to time.
I wonder if Lukes does, too.

I started seeing tunnels
and soon, gravity took me.
Horizontality was my fate.
I was the first to fall,
the first to succumb to gratuitous consumption.


Birds chirping, deafening in the late morning.
The angry sun cast slotted beams
through the still-lingering twines
of cigarette smoke from the night before.
I watched it slowly twirl and stir through slitted eyelids.
My eyes hurt, and my neck creaked as I looked around.
Nick passed out beside me, I figured Luke got the top bunk.
In the daylight I could always see the apartment for what
it really was.
An escape.
One room, bunk beds, and abject emotional destitution.
I rolled over on to the floor and steadied myself with
closed eyes and a palm planted on the ***** carpets.
My phone was on the desk in the corner, I grabbed it
and headed towards the bathroom.

**** cascaded, and through the open bathroom window
I could hear it echo off of the buildings lining New Street.
My hand floated up to the back of my head
and picked at something. Something hardened.
There was a thick layer of something
on the back of my scalp,
down the back of my neck.
It felt like wax.
We were burning a candle last night.
They must've dumped it on me
since I was the first to fall asleep.
I quit picking when I was struck by a sharp pain in my arm,
my left forearm.
A bit of my hair had probed an open wound,
a round burn mark.
I sat down on the floor and remembered for a bit.

My phone turned on with a melodic series of beeps,
it had been awhile since I turned it on.

One new voicemail.

I dialed the number 1 while picking wax from my hair,
put my passcode in,
and listened.

Mom called me last night, she was crying.
I was used to that sound at this point.
"Otis wont get up, I think he's dying Justin."
A brief pause.
"Please come home."

I'm sorry Otis. I loved you.
More than a dog, you were a canine brother.
Raised alongside me.
Raised by the same parents.

I didn't come home,
at least,
not then.
Seven years.

I still think about that night,
That morning.
That mourning.

My scar itches.
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