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Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2020
I hate when I lose my cool
Let my crazy show
Bits and pieces slip through my cracks
Otherwise carefully kept below

A world of chaos hides behind eyes
Beyond my skin
Nobody suspects the battlefield
That sets stage within

My neck hurts from holding up weight
Of thousands of mental disputes
Neurons connecting in my brain
And nervous system in cahoots

Around so much ruin each day
Anxiety running my soul
Fracturing under pressure
I snap
I lose control
The worst insult you can say to me is "you're crazy"
July Gray Aug 2020
Something inside is
It's almost going to
There aren't words for the pull
about to Snap

Unknown explosion
Without explanation
Not sure how to loosen the threads
it's Breaking

What to do
Who's taking the bullet
My fault my bomb it doesn't turn off

sorry
It's going to hurt me
more then it already hurts you
Music usually helps. Writing nonsense helps more.
Norman Crane Aug 2020
never met a soft-button girl,
one I could keep in my pocket,
could fasten my shirt,
keep my jeans up,
on my hips.

never met a soft-button girl before,
only nylon string and elastic,
no good for stitching up wounds,
only good for lacerations—
she snapped,
again.
Marri Dec 2019
Shackled, and chained.
Yet,
I’ve never felt so free.
You’ve awakened this primal instinct in me.

Burned, and bruised.
Tormented, and used.
I'm yours to abuse.

I kneel,
At your feet,
Waiting for command.
Waiting for the slightest gesture granted from your hand.

I look down.
My hands in lap.
l am at your will,
Waiting for your finger’s snap.

With hair pulled back--
Gathered in your hands.

And cheeks warm--
Caressed by your voice.

Lips are wet--
Touched by yours.

Cleaning, and cooking.
Almost every day.
Folding, and preparing.
Doing whatever you say.

I'm yours;
I'm branded with your name.
I'm bonded to you,
No matter what,
And I stand unashamed.
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
My voice is not a font
My face is not pixelated
My life isn’t a snap
My emotions aren’t emoticons
My love isn’t a tap
My compliments aren’t comments
I am not down there,
but up here .
c Apr 2019
Tell me
What’s your endgame plan?
You snap your fingers
And I melt in your hand
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
I wish I
Could rescue us
Avengers Endgame was so good!
nja Mar 2019
It’s hard to be your own person,
to move your singular body in its own direction,
when every corner is already crowded by other thoughts.
Your limbs brimming with self-loathing again, brilliant.
Bubbles of spit boasting as they frame your thirsty lips.
You’re picking blood-stained fingernails with yellowing teeth that never knew the curling cradle of a smile.
At a loss for embrace,
Fake hair plastered by stained sweat to your forehead.
There, in the hollows of your forehead, permanent lines appear prematurely, paving the way for the end of your rabbit hole, spiraling.
Head so full of heavy thoughts that your necks snaps.
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