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John Benjamin Apr 2017
It is not some dusty frame,
            hanging rusty nails;
                        chaotic mess.

            No es amor solo amar, to you,
                      just some language you,
                                can't comprehend.

Distraught, despaired, disheveled,
                a dystopian novel notion,
                                     romanticized.
        
                     There's no need;
you don't need to patronize.

Cold hand upon cold hand;
       lifeless smiles colluding.

                                 And as if you were a Monet sunrise,
my impression of you is that of drunken brush strokes,
                                                        ­                   dull blues,
                                               and angry orange hues,
Left on display within a rotting, wooden frame.
You can't fix something that's not broken,
you can't change someone who doesn't want to change,
you can't decide how a person should be,
you just simply can't,
is it so hard to see?

You walk around and try to control everything that comes your way,
you're shocked when someone doesn't do as you say,
you think you're God and that we should all obey,
the truth is no matter how much beauty you endure,
you'll never be anything more than what's inside of your soul.

Your soul is darker than the night,
your heart is as cold as ice,
I'll never fall for your spell again,
You're just a devil in diguise
Nothing more, nothing less

If somebody here needs a change,
look in the mirror and watch it shatter.
You're broken and bruised,
and give others abuse.
You're living proof that the outside is no reflection of the inside...
Beautiful outside, rotten inside.
Andrew May 2014
Not exactly proud of it
Just don't have the time

No teeth or claws
Nothing really but hunger

Not begging or choosing
Just desperate for something to eat

And when we find something, anything
It becomes disgusting.

But we don't care
We don't have a choice
It's not like we will get to see
Another day

So we feed.

And we feed..
“Love is like a reckless twin; I’m giving in.”
Scandipop on the radio,
The scent of marijuana hanging heavy in the air;
The fruits of my love lie wasted,
Rotting away,
Overripe and burdensome,
And I drink deeply from the sweet pools of wine
That gather where the fruits were bruised,
Either by their lesser fall,
Or their greater failure,
Having been inspected by most,
And rejected by all.
Inspired by Mads Langer's 'Lonely Street.'

Marked explicit just in case.

You can find more of my poetry at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com
Andrew Durst Sep 2016
Tooth decay and
lie in cheek.
There’s a rotten
part of me
that
continues to
manifest.
I am bitter
and this is
why I
wither away
rather than
fall to
pieces.
I am a slow,
dying,
rotten,
seething
piece of
flesh.
I am pale
with
society
and intoxicated
from all of
the pointless
conversations
we pretend
to have.

News flash
News flash
News flash







nobody is
listening.
Even your hottest hell, won't burn
I won't be fooled by
your burnt sympathy
I won't be fooled by
your rotten love

-Kaya
Marithe Munoz Mar 2016
trees will fall
and skies will turn to dark eyes.
i'll fall for you
and my heart turns
to black nights
Bianca Reyes Mar 2016
I will always be the slippery *****
               they warn you not to go down
         I am the clutter in your closet
                           they ask you to clean out
                Forever the reason you look
                              both ways before crossing

They say I am not right for you
         But I want to be your happiness
              The world sees me rotten
                         I wish for you to help me
                  Paint the world with color
                        So we may prove them wrong
Shared on Hello Poetry on March 7, 2016
Copywrite under Bianca Reyes
All rights reserved

Yada yada yada
Beleif Feb 2016
Father, take the body and leave it to drown.
The paths I built are deadly to cross.
This form is raw, these arms are gone,
My face is lost, what can I pray upon?
The windows shut; I cannot go,
Within this self I cannot hold,
Without this form, my panic stilled,
Why trapped with so much sky unfilled?  
Tell this box to let me through.
Make it sing me a song that will lift the bars
And set my ideas free to roam outside this room.
I want to plant a chaos seed.
I wish it to sprout a wonderful tree with clockwork leaves,
To leave in the sphere to watch from my chariot seat.
Part II of Unwinding Steely Strings.
Nirvana Feb 2016
I've started feeling despair
for the love that we share
oh! sorry I do forgot
the love, its all I've got

you never care to
find my love for you
you were busy in your own
you left me to cry and frown

you talked to me once or twice
you tried your best to act nice
all you said was not to call again
is it enough to heal my pain

you may put up a fight
but don't disappear from my sight
Instead slit my heart
and tear it apart

My feelings have rotten
but you're not forgotten
I still feel the pain
but the conditions have change(d)
      
to be continued... ... ...
#endless_pain
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