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Tint Jan 4
I am sad and angry
So drained and noisy

Exhausted with the tears
Your name chiming in my head

And the void is screaming
"Tell me your vain",

But no, I won't answer
I just stared into it's flame

I want it to touch me
And I want it to burn

With the holy of my water
From deep within my scorn

It was red but lighter
It was blue but thick

And I let it drown me
Till you call back my name
William de klerk Dec 2020
Another age-old tale
of love too frail
to save two lives torn
by love's self-destructive scorn.

If love were
a worn leather chest plate
doubt would be a
piercing sword
to seal a lover's fate.

Trust, a slippery step
on a steep climb
that if her feet would falter
she would never again be mine.

Has this calloused heart
become too cruel?
but what of
once deceived
and twice a fool.

So I have learned
that Love is not blind.
For the faint flame
of love in one's eye
slowly starts to die

Never again can i stare lovingly
For all I have is uncertainty
She starts to tear when I am near

For my stare forever holds
The weight of
"what if?"
Not knowing is a heavy burden indeed
Ken Pepiton Dec 2020
Teasers, itches wishin' scratches,

gentle dharma level reasons to be
attended to
now,
lest we forget
unget
ungiven sigils signifyin'finite
insignif-ican't sirs, if I can
sort the signal from the noise
-- pause, remember
watch something on the idiot box, oh yeah,
that reminds me,
here's the itch, that fully funcyanin' lie,
yellow and black warning with
magenta scars burn printed
RK Nexivm cult branded
pain proven acceptable
true children of pride,
humbling themselves,
to be the knowers
of the secret
meaning
brand name, rampaging stallion
roger out .-. -.- the code is RK okeh.
K being gone black, fade to black snappy,
tic click 256 shades from white to K
saturated all light absorbed,
out, black, night ink
itching to link
one thought to another,

peace of mind, itchless wonder
being the aim of artists intuition
given poetic licentiousness's final amen.

... now, I lay me down to sleep.
Not sleepy, and there is no place I'm going to, as I consider
mortality fizzing into ever.
annh Nov 2020
π™Έπš—πš” πš‹πš•πšŽπšŽπšπšœ 𝚊𝚜 πšπšžπš›πš’ πšŒπš˜πšžπš›πšœπšŽπšœ,
π™·πšŠπš•πš-𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 πš πš˜πš›πšπšœ πš‘πšžπš›πš•πšŽπš
π™Ώπš˜πš˜πš›πš•πš’ 𝚊𝚝 πš‘πš˜πš—πšŽπšœπš πš™πšŠπšπšŽπšœ;
π™°πš— πšŽπš‘πšœπšŠπš—πšπšžπš’πš—πšŠπšπš’πš˜πš— 𝚘𝚏 πšπš‘πšŽ πšœπš™πš’πš›πš’πš.

⌨

πš‚πšŒπš˜πš›πš— πš›πš’πšπšŽπšœ 𝚝𝚘 πš‘πšŽπšŠπš›πšπšŠπšŒπš‘πšŽβ€™πšœ πš›πšŽπšœπšŒπšžπšŽ, πšπšŽπš—πš’πšŠπš• πš’πš— πššπšžπš’πšŒπš” πš™πšžπš›πšœπšžπš’πš.
β€˜She was fury, she was wrath, she was vengeance.’
- Sarah J. Maas, Queen of Shadows
Dark circles
And white lies,
Everything that I've learned
To despise,
I can't take this thinking
I can't take this feeling
The oxygen I'm breathing
Is Nitrogen that's preening.

I'm suffocating.

Being subjugated.

Blank slate with no opinion,

That's what they're asking of me.
That's what they're expecting of me.
That's what they want me to be.

But I am unfiltered,
I am a storm,
A flurry of emotions,
And an object of scorn.
I'll make you love,
And I'll make you regret,
I'll make you remember,
But never forget.

You can't leave me behind,
I am a memory,
I'm worth more than a day,
I'm worth more than a century.
Break me,
Shatter me,
Try to burn me down.
I'll be your darkness,
But I won't make you frown.

And you can't be rid of me,
Though I've already left,
For I am unfiltered,
With no regrets.
I initially wrote this after a bad break up, but the words didn't entirely resonate with what I wished to convey at the time. After a few years, I definitely resonate with these words now, but for a more serious reason. These words are now bittersweet to me, as I feel the amount of scorn these words convey, but yearn for the confidence that I once had that I couldn't be shattered. This was originally written in 2017, I believe.

Β©Oleander Micheal Osiris copyright 2020
Troy Jun 2020
What’s the point
What’s the point of confessing
What’s the point of being open
What’s the point of letting people in

I’ve started to question
Why I even bother trying
Letting people in my head
Just to be let down and forgotten

What’s the point of caring
When all you get in return
Is a cold shoulder
Or completely ignored

What’s the point of attraction
If all it leads to is suffering
What’s the point of it all
When you will just be tossed aside

What’s the point
Of wearing your heart on your sleeve
When all that will happen
Is it being tossed into the dirt

Crushed under the weight of abandonment
Lost in the waves of forgotten-ness
Possessed by the need to be seen
Yet forever be ignored by the one who holds it

It doesn’t matter anymore
But it still hurts badly
I have **** off my emotions
But the damage has already been done

Shattered remains of a once caring heart
Lay broken across this scarred flesh
A reminder that caring for another
Will only lead to pain and anguish

So from now on
I will no longer care
I will no longer fight
I will no longer love

I will keep to myself
I will seal off my heart
No one deserves it
Not anymore
George Krokos Mar 2020
Let all the warm sunlight in
and the new day to begin
for the night has now been cast
with our sorrows so to last
in those days lying ahead
that many will only dread
this modern epidemic
which is now a pandemic.

And that long finger of scorn
now points to where it was born
at a country that's growing
much too rapidly knowing
as it tries to beat the rest
in its own ambitious quest
to become a world leader
instead became a *******.

It has happened twice before
on this ancient country's shore
where a bad virus outbreak
by carelessness did so make
with a disastrous effect
for not being circumspect
doing the right thing but caught
and this virus to us brought.

The world is now on its knees
for a new vaccine that frees
man from the deadly disease
that's also spreading with ease
as all the casualties grow
and daily statistics show
called the corona virus
which is out to destroy us.

Unless a vaccine is found
to an early grave we're bound
the fate of most of mankind
a result of being blind;
too much pride and ambition
causing this sad condition
and man's own dire end to be
as foretold in prophesy.
_____
One of my latest poems on the current pandemic that's sweeping the world. I hope and pray that it wont be like this poem depicts at the end. God help us all.
D'Angelo Dec 2019
I feel like I hurt you.
I know I didn't
but it feels like I did.
You're making yourself feel like I did
so now I do too.
You think I feel nothing for you
so you think you're nothing to me
but yet and still,
I feel like I hurt you.

It's not my fault that you forgot
that I'm a risk.
But see you "forgot"
so at one point,
you knew.
Don't act like you're in the dark.
But most importantly,
don't act like I put you there.

You won't see this.
And it wouldn't matter if you did.
After all of myself I've shown you,
you still act like you don't see.
So reading this would be pointless...
for you.
For me,
this is the barrier between
the disdain that I feel
and the "*******" that you'll hear.

I want to love you...
woman.
With everything in me.
Enough til it kills me.
I want you to be my prize.
I want it to be you woman
that I meet at the end of this road.
I want,
for you to be the "good" part.
I really want that.

But I can't love you woman.
Not now, not here.
Not yet.
If I tried,
it won't be love.
It'll be scorn.
It'll be resentment.
It'll be the cold and harsh.
It'll be the "*******"s
and "I don't care"s.
And that's one thing I enjoy the most
....caring.

It'll be everything but ***.
I can dedicate my body to yours,
be your high at day's end
with good, strong and close ***.
Give you my mouth and manhood.
Taste you until you feel delicious...
and "this" still,
wouldn't be ***.

That's not my hunt.
We make it ***
when you make it ***....woman.
You're not a little girl.
You wanted me to know that.
So don't act like one.
I know,
It's easy to forget.
You do it all the time.
But you can't forget this...woman.
You didn't give in to me,
you gave in to yourself.
You just chose me as company.

You invited me in
and I filled you with goodness
and my forsaken seed.
So now,
you feel like this story writes itself...
or atleast you hope it does.
But there you go,
playing "little girl" again.
This story didn't write itself,
these are your words on these pages.

So here I am,
stuck in a story,
that you've written for me.
Stuck,
as the pain you feel.
And even though I didn't want a story,
even though we never needed one,
Im the chapter you just can't wait to close.
You did this,
all of it.
And still I Feel Like I Hurt You.
B D Caissie Sep 2019
If you are bitter you are like a dry leaf that crumbles with the slightest touch and gets blown away by a whirlwind of hate. Only forgiveness can calm the storm raging inside your heart...


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