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Skylar Feb 7
Infiltrating my solitary DNA,
An antihero of paranormal arousal;
The chaos in me reigns, revels astray,
My loyalty yet to be slain.

It's a staredown with life and death;
A witness of genocide, a liar of extremes,
You're the domineering shadow of our company;
Our connections are not mere wind or air:
We're blood before birth, water before our last breath.

I've cheated my own feelings:
I'm infatuated with you—your magnificence.
You're the glistening moon controlling my tides;
Your name is too sacred for anyone to speak aloud.

I'd be a coward trembling to peruse immunity;
My blade maybe timid, but I won't be afraid to stab;
My testimony maybe blunt, but I'm not afraid to liberate the truth.
Am I the traitor when your ends justify my means?
Yet another poem inspired by the Billionaire Boys Club (BBC). Joe Hunt intrigues me. This was written in Dean Karny's perspective. Sorry about the double entendre.
*"You" refers to Joe Hunt.
**The difference of the number of lines in the second stanza is intended.
July Gray Dec 2020
this is me
screaming into
the void
a whisper
i am deserving and worthy of love

this is me
constructing pieces
of boundaries
i can't put up yet

this is me
speaking words
that are not lies

this is me
preparing for the worst

this is self-preservation
im tired of biting my tongue
i can't wait to leave this town
Claire Jul 2020
The thorny rose that no one liked;
It lacked a petal and had a thousand spikes.
The thorns that grew from its roots to leaves
Kept the people from touching it.
But, this thorny rose once had no thorns at all;
It just lacked a single petal, tho,
This was enough for it be alone
And cursed by all, oh, so much woe.
So, she cried a million tears
Which soon grew as thorns and nasty leaves.
Now no one gives it a second glance,
But it doesn't really need anyone's touch.
Yanamari Jun 2020
I'm comfortable
In the dimness of
My room
I'm warm
Under layers smooth
I'm relaxed
In the silence
Of solitude.

My room small and yet
Large enough
Slightly cramped and yet
Spacious enough
Almost a world away
Nothing urgent
And yet

It all comes crashing down as
I open the door
Let it all in
I don't want to
I know I'll have to
I'll want to
And yet
I don't.
since December, the world has turned--
turned into a skeleton place
first far away,
now commonplace

society became a bare-skinned animal
whose bones rattle in the breeze,
the infectious air diffusing
entwining inside us with ease

this animal's labored breathing--
poison emanates from every exhale--
is creeping, swirling, choking, whirling
without a visible trail

this animal roams about freely
without a stay-at-home order,
wraps its tendrils inside each painful breath,
knows not of race, religion, or border

so tell me why we've not tried to tame it,
most wonderful governor dear, oh yes!
your disregard for us, proclaim it!
instead you'd rather have fear, and death!

any call to action now
will have us all still writhing
the lame beast will conquer us,
thanks, to the lack of timing

the bare ***** beast hunts night and day
its being can't be cast away;
arm yourself against its wrath
society must pave its own path
Yes, Pete Ricketts, governor of the great state of Nebraska. This one's for you.
Rana DiOrio Feb 2019
I held your hand as you disentangled from her
you did not move closer to me

I assuaged your worst fears
you fueled mine

I was fully present and attentive
you took calls that came in . . . and didn’t call back

I asked questions
you answered different ones

I made you a playlist
you never acknowledged

I made plans and reservations
you did not show

I gave you the benefit of every doubt
you did not reassure me

I made myself vulnerable
you remained ensconced

I created space in my life
you did not explore

I dared to dream about us
you dreamed about . . . I don’t know

I gave you my body
you reached for your phone

I gave you my heart
you did not reciprocate

I get it now
you are just not that into me

Only wish I knew sooner.
Goodbye.
Ffion Jones Feb 2019
My thorns grow
meaner by the day, to
protect my
withering heart from the
rose I cannot claim.
This is a snippet from a poem I wrote years ago!
Carolyn Cagnon Dec 2016
And the truth flows free,
And the numbness fades,
And you're left in a daze,
And the pain hits again,
And the feelings you felt...
Well they remain the same.
And you hate yourself,
For feeling anything at all,
For a person who let you fall.
And the hearbeat falters,
And the tears glide freely,
And the fear comes back again.
And the brain goes crazy,
With the self doubting ways,
And ya feel like ya might implode.
Well those are the days...
Those are the moments,
To remember who you are.
Those feelings don't define you,
Nor should they confine you.

And the feelings subside,
And ya pick yourself up...
One broken piece at a time.
And you are now smiling,
And you truly laugh again...
And you find yourself once more,
Well those are the days...
Those are the moments...
That I truly adore.
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