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Ken Voltaire Nov 2018
I am minuscule.
Shame and remorse lie on my breath,
An ample bed.
Fear overcame me,
And thus I was deceived by my own self.
An abundance of cowardliness,
That lead to pain and suffering,
Continuing ever still.
My mind and will are weak,
But bound by love,
I hope to keep.
Fear,
That I will never be good enough.
Too many mistakes.
Too many slips and falls.
Too many cliches.
Too much dependency.
Too much weakness.
Too much reliance.
Too much regret.
Not enough affection.
Not enough truth.
Not enough surety, confidence.
Not enough time.
I fear,
That I will not grow fast enough.
Arlen Oct 2018
You're not gone
But living through my veins
So when people ask where you are
I say nothing really changed

Though you're gone
Your memories fill us
With join and pain alike
But that's how we know
That you lived a successful life
Amanda Kay Burke Oct 2018
Awakens to a new day like thousands before
Gone from sight, searches for hope
On the cold dirt she solemnly walks
No trace of possibility in her scope.

"Are you okay?" I long to ask her
Easily seeing she is everything but
Each inch of her body quivers
Lights are off, her heart is shut.

A complex cavern of misunderstanding
Sensory overload dreaded routine
Treacherous image none bothered to question
Screaming child stuck in an eternal daydream.

Starlight mimicking a faint compass
Guiding through the map surrounding
The world gives conflicting directions
Lost in the atlas, heartbeat starts pounding.

Putting trust in uneven difficult terrain
She drags her broken spirit along
A replica of the beauty she once captured
Her touch gentle, bravery strong.

Tossed by foamy waves
In the streets, out at sea
Tired and hungry, long ago spit out
After being chewed by cruel society.

Down and out, no longer expecting
The universe to show any remorse
Bearing her misery alone in the chaos
Oblivion the destination marking the end of her course.
This isn't about anyone in particular although I am the inspiration behind it. This is one of the more vague non-personal pieces I've written.
maggie W Oct 2018
Winter snow, crispy leaves in fall
It's you it's him but none are my business

Love , hate and remorse
Weeks, months and years
Irretrievable moments we own

The syllables in my throat
The words dangling by my lips

Wind of fall, twirling leaves
The thoughts dancing as we stroll down the road

Spring blossom, lingering cold and chunky coat
Remnant snow, rosy glow and kids on the Mall

You are my most ridiculous romance

Love, hate and remorse .
to fall and to mike.
Always Ally Sep 2018
Sweet dreams of lost ones
Those who we can no longer find
                                 A place to be safe
                                 Hoping you will be fine
                                             Trying hard to breathe
                                              Not knowing what will last
                                                     But the future will be brighter
                                                        ­                The past is just the past
Maya Sep 2018
the sun will die
but not for a long time
not before our own infinities
collapse into the absurdity and
the unimportance of it
all.

the sun will die
but not before goodwill
closes its doors one last time.
so long ****** $1 books and
memories of old people couches
that smelled like **** and beer and your great-grandfather's
apartment.

yeah, the sun will die
but not before those
kids who used to pick on you
and that ******* on the train
who got kicked in the ***** for making lewd comments in the quiet car
become worm food for
more decent creatures.

the sun will ******* die
so be glad.
everything ends including
all us *******,
us heavy breathers and
old ladies and ex-cons and alcoholics and plain humans.

the sun will die
but we got other things to worry about
more relative than all the others
so we may as well
enjoy
the
wait.
Jack Torrance Sep 2018
If I die tomorrow,
would I simply disappear?
Living flesh and memories,
that both grew for years.

Do I have a choice,
about what happens next?
Or are we simply ****** into a game,
with no written rules or text.

Can I choose to stay and watch them grieve,
can I still touch their face?
Even if they can’t see me,
they might feel warmth from my embrace.

Will I be sentenced to torture,
for breaking the rules?
Or perhaps my memories will fade,
unraveling like a spool.

I’ve tried to love all people,
and listen to my heart.
So please let me stay awhile,
because it’s tearing them apart.

The mystery of “after”,
is the cruelest thing to do.
Please let me do something,
one whispered “I love you “.

Heaven may be paradise,
but you pay for luxury,
and leaving behind my loved ones,
is too steep a price for me.

So if it’s all the same to you,
I’ll stay behind with them,
because they need me more than you do,
and to leave them would be a sin.
Another old poem I found
Jack Torrance Sep 2018
7AM

My head’s filled with glass,
as the sunlight streams in.
My mouth’s like the desert,
as I groan “never again”.

I fight to sit up,
and my stomach protests.
I swallow back *****,
and it’s almost a success.

I sprint to the bathroom,
and flick on the light,
barely making the toilet,
as the tears blur my sight.

Now I stare in the mirror,
through bloodshot eyes,
splashing water on my face,
as I try not to cry.

Today will be different,
I promise myself.
No drinking today,
the bottle stays on the shelf.

12PM

The aspirin has helped,
along with the food.
Just one beer with lunch,
to lighten the mood.

Besides, says my brain,
you’re more normal this way.
It’ll help you relax,
so just have one, whatcha say?
                    
6PM

The beers took the edge off,
and now I’m more fun.
I’ll just take one shot,
just one, then I’m done.

12AM

The room won’t stop spinning,
and the bottle’s all gone.
My hand is bleeding,
what the hell’s going on?

I stumble off walls,
trying to stay on my feet.
I finally fall into bed,
now, rinse and repeat.
An old poem I found today
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