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amber 1d
the book was closed
you'd finished it and picked your favorite chapter.

yet soon, you found yourself forgetting the story
so you picked up a new one.
it didn't captivate you, at first
you flicked through the pages so causally
but then you suddenly stopped

and started to pay attention
what caught your attention?

why am i a chapter and not a page?
you could've easily flicked through me
but you've stopped on my chapter
and you're reading it carefully

i hope it's your favourite chapter
September Rose Dec 2018
When will the darkness consume me
Am I a sinner or a purger
Do I make haste for pain or for pleasure,
What is the difference?
The night owls scream like sirens from the river rapids
Do I fear the damaged or do I pull them closer to harm me so I dont have to do it myself.
Will I stare in horror
At the beasts above my bed
Or in melancholy relief.
What answers would the monsters in the closet give
If they could speak
I would ask them where they dwell away,
Are they from ****?
Ide like to know weather to reflect or pray in my final moments
Do demons know if there's life after death?
Do the demons know they are real enough to tell me,
So I dont have to keep asking myself.
Can I be my own worst enemy
If I beleive in fate?
How can I ruin my future if it's predetermined.
When I pretend to sleep through the night does my brain think I'm well rested?
Or can it see the dark rings under my eyes as well.
Who am I to name myself while I beleive nothing is real.
Who are we to hope for something more when we already have it all.
Do I make my own thoughts?
Or do they come from somewhere else.
Who do I ask for.
Who do I expect to answer.
Do I hope to find the answer in myself?
Or do I enjoy making my heart suffer.
Caitlin 3d
When I was young I heard someone say,
“I laugh in the face of danger then run and hide until it goes away”
I’ve adopted this defence mechanism.
News I can’t handle becomes a comedy rather than a tragedy.
Maybe if I make light of my pain it won’t be so bad.
Maybe if I don’t take it serious or will disappear.
Ever since I was young my family and I have have dealt with bad situations by joking. We are the type to laugh at a funeral and like to avoid the tough stuff for as long as we can.
Lily 3d
~I want to watch scary movies with you, and laugh together afterwards about how scared we got~
Yet another day I can't go outside,
The walls closing in, my tears like the tide,
Plotting during day, crying during night,
How much longer must I put up this fight?
I must find a way to escape his wrath,
Marriage was obviously the wrong path,
During day work or during his night bath,
I'll sprint out the house, but I must run fast.
-       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -
The door squeaked as I quickly closed the door,
Key in ignition, the engine did roar,
Quick prayer to ***, then pressed pedal to floor,
This evil mans wrath I shall feel no more,
I realized I had nowhere to go,
As I drove in silence, through the thick snow,
I decided to turn around and drove,
To the only place I ever did know.
I'm reading 'The House on Mango Street'.
Meg B 5d
I stare blankly at the
bathroom wall
where the tiled portion
meets the faded blue paint
as it soaks in...
I liked it

The years of unrequited love,
the chase for affection,
the tortured artist
twisted up in twisted tortured

I spent year writing
dark poems,
letting the liquid manifest as a physical representation
of the tears shed
and bleeding heart.
Did I like it?

My existence was
wandering streets alone,
getting lost in melancholy songs,
wondering if love equated pain.

Then I found
what I told my notebook
I'd been searching for all along.
Someone loves me,
someone gives me love,
and I spent so much time searching for it,
enjoying the hunt and
getting gratification out
of my own self-deprecation
that I'm lost even though I'm found.

Do I like it?
Did I like that?
Do I like this?

I can't seem to decipher
affection and how it's supposed to
make me feel
versus how it does.
Did I like looking for it more than having it?

Am I so ****** up that
I love not receiving love more than receiving it?

I don't want to run; I want to stay;
I always used to run
     and away.
Deb Jones Sep 2017
Don't overthink me
You were lonely for a companion,
To share your hopes and dreams

And you thought of me
Because you liked me well enough

You wanted a woman to sleep beside
You wanted a mate for the rest of your life

And you thought of me
Because you liked me well enough

You were worried I would pick someone else soon
That your time would have passed

You were anxious about who
Was going to be there for you

And you thought of me
Because you liked me well enough

You were troubled
You didn’t even know why.

I could see you clearly.
It didn’t take much insight

You have talked yourself
Into thinking of me as yours

Just because I have been here for years
Because I have been here for you

Doesn’t mean I want you inside me
Doesn’t mean I want to lay underneath you

It just means I love you
And I am your friend.

I made you feel like a man
When the world was trying to unman you

Please don’t make me want to hide from you now.

Don’t pour unto me all that you need
I can't be that person for you

I am your friend
Just let me be a good friend again.

Your feelings for me haven’t changed.
What you feel is the same caring you have always had

Don’t overthink me…..please.

Let me be your friend again
To a friend that I love
I can't run away
My fears just got to where i stay
I've always pictured my safe haven
A simple place where my head could lay
Only to realize it was nothing close to heaven
This place i craved
Found out it wasn't safe no more
As my fears lay await
Pretty little fears
Waiting to scare my self
Someone once said
Earth without art is just eh!
Reason i picture beauty in pain
My fears
As harsh as they may be
They are still pretty to me
For the real struggle is within
Tarnishing them would just expose
An uglier struggling side of me
One i would never want the world to see
So every time I'm scared
And fail to conquer my fears
I join them in tears
My pretty little fears

Akwana Wa Odera
© 2019
The first piece I've written this year
The remnants of your influence
Echo down the halls of my concience
Long after I slipped away into the night
Here you are still
Whispering that I am not good enough
I cannot make on on my own
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