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Yip Wayne Jul 2018
Tap tap tap
Send
Delivered
Received

If there could be one punishment
It would surely be this
The effect so sinister yet so innocent
A simple reply would bring the world peace

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Why should I blame you for my heart's unease?
It not as horrendous as compared to blue ticks
Unless, of course, you deactivated your read receipts
Like a professional crook who covers their prints

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The wait is driving me insane
But I've to mask my maniacal pettiness
Put on a straight face to feign
Is it that hard to hide my emptiness?

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Arcassin B Jul 2018
By Arcassin Burnham

Pretending I am kissing the lips that
I am missing,
Love is at its peril if you think that I'll
be skipping,
Out on you.

Pressure builds up like receipt listings,
Thinking your Gonna leave me one day
And have me crying,
Not over you.

Love will be dying slow right now
because of the betrayal,
Peace in a hot dinner plate , I will not
Let it go stale,
Words I'll send to you.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/07/send-to-you.html
Thomas EG Jun 2018
It feels different with her
Different with how she sees me
Because she... sees me,
She loves every part of me
That I want to love about myself
That I can acknowledge
As admirable traits to have
And she... admires me
And I admire her admiration
And I desire her love
She is so good
And I love every part of her
And she can't love herself
But maybe if she loves us
She can get there faster
And we try to move slowly
But my love for her,
It loves running races
And my heart races
When she moves with me
And we move with each other
And I love how we have moved since
And I loved how we moved before
But everything has led to this
Everything has led to us
And I love us
And I love every part of her
And she makes me
Feel like I am worth loving
Clearing out my drafts
~June 16th
nihiliti Jun 2018
upheld

facing heaven
facing the music

angel choirs are nothing like the devil
down in Georgia
far above the level of
love
into a stratospheric stratification of
hope
and seven levels of adrenaline beyond
dope

dopamine dreams drip
slow
soothing control
like a lighted window in the
snow
glimmering like gold
but so far gone
the meaning is
lost

and I wander
through my own house
wondering why this isn't home
wishing to the stars to go
away into the unknown

but I'm snatched back

and I switch back to passing
myself in the mirror
and screaming ****** Mary
because I'm home
but gentle hands
know

how to love while being played like a fiddle
how to sweetly play it off as
close enough to god to
know

yet I am home
and the stars align so I do find
refuge in the music
and make a home in
dreams made doped
coaxed by my own
two hands

too late to come down
Shoot up for the stars, land in oblivion.
N E Waters Sep 2014
I keep the TV on, because when I do it feels like I'm living.
I keep my browser running, because when I do, it feels like I'm feeling.
I keep my movement low, because I'm slow, because I'm softer
and I burrow deep beneath my sheets to forget that I'm a daughter.
World's potential rages, shapes and faces overwhelm me,
and I'm screaming silent for the quiet that I feel like I am missing.
I want to touch you, see you, hold you, speak without restriction.
But I numb my mind in sounds and lights, so that I can slip away.

Over-stimulation cradles what craves to be kinetic,
pacifies the glowing inside craving open air.
I cannot move, I cannot go, I'm too afraid to ride the ride
and so I'll sit behind the lines
and participate by watching.

And here we'll watch the world together- and also so alone
would that I could
rip free the bandage
and leave my ***** home.

and the internet praises the introvert and tells us we're secretly deep.
And we dress our wounds with wasted time until we fall asleep.

And in my dreams I'm running, fighting, TRYING SO HARD
to break free.
And in the morning, I shudder, shake them off
and dim the light in me.

And day after day
back, here we go,
back to the flickering screen.
trinity Jun 2018
,
silently puppeteering,
ceaselessly poised under our noses and over our heads,
most visible when crawling by,
and too often moving much too fast.
time is an imposing figure,
intimidating and all too present.

yet it is also just the ticking of a clock,
seconds between minutes,
minutes between hours.
clouds slowly drifting across the sky,
the rising of the sun and moon,
generous and unhampered.

and is it fair to give it our burdens?
to use it as a pocket in which we neatly tuck away our problems?
time is not our enemy,
but neither is it our friend.
we ask it to heal all wounds
but time has no cures and no sympathy.
time has no intentions.

and so we ponder and debate and ask it for favors,
and time watches and says nothing.
very rambly, oops
Stop when I have to
Give me a time to breathe
Notice time in and out the door
Stop at the line my heritage
Had drawn on the floor before
Open my eyes to see
Who enters and who exits

Red is the color to alert
That stationary worlds  exist

Caution when I consider
A peeling away of the discarded
Notice this breathing time
A stirring of movement
Hidden below my dwelling floor
An energy, slow and beginning to vibrate
A humming sound building to negotiate.

Amber is the color to wait
serenely before the door opens

Go when you show me the way
Then my soul no longer argues
The right and the wrong
This I have noticed no to prolong
The Wind-Soul opens my eyes
Shows me how long is too long

Green is the color to go
Move in the constant glory of flow

Take heart to these teachings
And all that is needed, is supplied.
Lisa May 2018
It’s like everything is still in slow motion, but also a silent film.
It’s like I’m not even sneaking out for a cigarette anymore,
I light one in the room with the door open.
It’s like I’m not trying.
My grades are dropping as well as my bags are growing,
They ask me if I’m sick and I say, yea
It’s the cold
I have a cold
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