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It's been years since I actually missed her
And its a surprise because I thought I was done dreaming of her forever
Not only did she break my heart
But I grew to hate the things we both shared, like a broken handle on a cart.
At one point during these 7 years I became delusional
Creating a fake relationship for her and I, utterly insane, no?
I wanted her and I to be a thing once upon a time
I considered myself to be a nickel and her a dime
Embarrassingly enough to say, but even before we became friends I had set my sights on becoming her man
Unfortunately, I was too hasty in my confession resulting in my unused plan.
I tried to not let it bother me and I was able to move on eventually
Until of course I found out she was interested in my best friend, not surprisingly.
He was pretty popular unlike me
I, however, wanted to be useful to her so I listened to her "gush" over him because that's what a friendzoned 'nice guy' does ,right?
His feelings don't matter so there's no point putting up a fight.
If she's actually interested in you she'll make those feelings known.
I couldn't understand that back then, but I can now since I've grown.
It's been 7 years since she released me from her life.
I became so jaded and bitter from all that strife.
The nickel that wanted to be with a dime
Can't believe I dreamt about her after all this time.
I had a dream about Giovanna last night. I decided to include more in this poem about the friendship I had with her at the time so maybe someone would understand why I get so triggered thinking about her.
Saudia R Jun 2022
I'm enjoying every moment of my magic

Such is the magic of my moment
There is so much to you that when you finally lose your way to being found, there is nothing left but to be grateful for the magic that is you in a world born of weaponized sadness. Be magic. Be magic for you.
Ryan Seth Cole Apr 2022
I hurried up to the window. It was all the way down stairs. The exhaust was at crescendo. By the time I arrived, you were not there. The exhaust fumes that plumed had left a trail in the air. It was cold that morning, I had walked out to the driveway in my underwear.

I came back inside and put some clothes on and tried to move on with my day. But it wasn’t that easy once the argument was there. Any task I would do would compose in the background like the noise of the county fair. Any stranger could become a target should my fuse were to despair.

I try to have more control than that but this morning I did not care. I made everyone around me; suffer with me at the cost of what you bared. It was your fault in the grief we shared  but I won’t admit it. Plus, you don’t care. You hurt me and now I hold the world hostage. Give me my heart back or I will.

I already lost it. And at what point is the damage I received Justified by the pain I inflict upon others? At what point do I look in the mirror and find the fault upon me?
Well if you have read this far you can already see.

Self infliction and escalation we pay to hurry our death.
gray rain Mar 2022
Sadness became a part of me
taking everything I know
making it all gray
That's what I am

Trying to think of a new way to live
falling into old traps
spitting fire on my old life
trying to forget how to go back

Looking for a way to love
find a way to pick myself back up
gray isn't all I was meant to be
Trying to move on from my past in a new environment, with new people. I am happier than I have ever been but plagued with insecurity and depression. Struggling to show how I really feel.
M Salinger Feb 2022
I think there's something about youth that a lot of 'adults' forget:
those years between 20-25, might as well be 15,
they are long and arduous
and will test your will more times than  you think possible.

But it is here where your character is forged.
Where your soul picks a path,
an identity in relation to this world.

Because what is the self if not in relation to another?

And from there, the current of this identity takes you along to 30, 35, 40, 50, 60 and onwards.

Some people buckle under this pressure,
it is intense and cutting.
And takes both rigidity in one's persistence
softness in one's heart.

Because a hardened heart cannot be imprinted on.

And that might just be the point of existence.
To be imprinted by love and to spread the same.

Kindness is a choice.

We choose in the pressure chambers of our 20s if we are nice,
or kind,
or neither.

I hope when you look in the mirror, you are as proud of your choice as I am.

It is this kindness within you
that you have nourished and grown,
with intent, and through a labour of love,
that will always carry you forward.

Kindness is a choice, but we were also lucky to be gifted this by Mom and Dad,
and from them ever since.

Their commitment to kindness
to keeping this softness in their hearts,
reminds me to do the same.

They have this inherently within them because of the communities they grew up in.
We are removed from these parts of our roots,
and that particular cultural piece
is not the same for us.

As such,
it will be our life's work to keep this knowing at the forefront of our minds.
And hearts.

However, this is still not a weight we must bear alone.
We do this in communities just the same.

It will not be easy
and will take both hard work and dedication,
but it does get easier.

The current picks up with time.

I feel fortunate to have you
on my team for this task ahead.

We have our work cut out for us,
and at this particular moment, we must go at it alone.

But that does not mean we are ever alone.

That community.
That safety net.
Those hearts imprinted with  yours,
of past, present and future,
always remain.

This is my hope for you
as you go into this next chapter: that even when you are alone, you are never lonely
with this knowing.

My heart always remains soft and open to yours,
To my babysister,
on the other side of 25: it only gets better from here.
Charles Leonard Jan 2022
I cast a shadow most clearly
In the light.
Better though this shadow
Then hiding in the night.

(C) - 2003
A debt of gratitude to Sheldon Kopp who wrote from many angles about the importance of owning our disowned selves, the wolf within, the victim, the shame.
stillhuman Aug 2021
I lose my smell
when I try to fit my words
in a conversation
and I try to fit myself
in someone's life
and my body
in someone's space
I find that I lose my reflection
It looks back at me
blurry eyes are dull
and unresponsive
A vanishing phantom of those I tried to be
Wilkes Arnold Aug 2021
I wrote a poem long ago
As an assignment for class
It was the first I was proud of
That feeling didn't last
It captured something
That rarely I'd place
An ever-present
Mask on my face
It was written there
Now lost forever
A truth I knew
Would bring me no pleasure
Titled "Masquerade"
I thought that was clever
Even used three words
To put rhyme to those letters
It was whole and it was tragic
Though I wrote it stone-faced
Turned it in, to the teacher
With no smile or grace
That page was Rumplestiltskin
Its lines gave form
To thoughts never shared
Within my brain's storm
The poem was an answer
From the hand that wrote it
To a baffled 12-year-old
Who couldn't control it
She gave it back to me
Along with an A
That I stuffed in my pack
And lost the same day
keith daniels Jul 2021
all that you are;

is all that you?

this is all that,

and that is all.
Just words.
M Salinger Jul 2021
Something happens for you
something changes,
a part of your power
a part of your abilities
a part of you

when you’re faced with truth,
and choice,
when moving from known
into uncertainty

and in the face of this
you lose a part of

The smoke
it hangs low,
a weight in my lungs
like the feeling in my soul

the forests
burn themselves,
and out of destruction,
the new growth is born,
like us

be born again,
let my love
nourish & caress you
scars and all

rise to the
when fear beckons

lay your heavy head
and tired mind
in my lap
and let your tears
of sadness,
and longing
flow in the space between my legs

let go.

and like that,
I will hold you
& show you the
promises I won’t

let me reveal
my inner corners
as you show me yours,
and prove to you
how tender I will be
with your delicate

resist the temptation
& give into me

make love to me.

lay your lips
on mine
& slip yourself
into the space
between my hips

let me show you
true ecstasy,
let the arch of
my back
show you what
words can’t

let our bated breaths
& escaping moans
be our solemn vow
that fear
rule here

let your fingers
get tangled in my hair
as your heart beats
against mine,
as a reminder of what
is ours

have courage
& fervour
to hold on,
when fear
taunts you to let go,
when it smirks
because the intensity
almost burns,
& your soul bleeds
and your bones ache
& your
will is

in these dark moments,
find strength in me

because something happens for you
something changes,
a part of your power
a part of your abilities
a part of you

when you’re faced with truth,
and choice,
when moving from known
into uncertainty,
when you’re
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