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Diana Y Mar 2018
A hope, so bittersweet.
The passage of time, so palpable.
A bed sheet drapes over man's shoulders;
People die but time goes on.
Somber house
Lingering soul
"Who we are; where we go?"

Ethereal.
nicoarty Mar 2018
It rains when it’s over
Not just outside, but in
Making a puddle
In the hole
That was once me
Anthony McKean Mar 2018
Lest I forget
                   The worlds from which I came

Throw me in thy brig
              Whilst the waves cast me shame

                             Am not I the keeper of my mind?
                   The mind inside my head

     Lest I forget
             The worlds from which I came
julianna Feb 2018
Depression is a blanket,
A place to rest my head.
It hurts when I am somber,
But won't hurt when I am dead.
Anthony Grant Feb 2018
There's something about rainy days that bring me such joy;

My dear, it reminds me of you.

And coffee makes it that much more comfortable.

The warmth of each taste reminds me of your lips.

Oh, the way the soft mist from the rain reaches my somber face.

Every evanescent touch you'd caress me with.

I'll pull my cup close, if only to keep it safe.

How your hands, like a cage, kept me.

There's something about a cup of coffee and the rain.

My dear, it's the most bittersweet memories I cherish.
Sam Feb 2018
I could taste... loneliness in her kiss
A million stars caressing the night sky
We lost track of time, but there was no place we had to be
And in her kiss, I could taste everything
All the guys who said they'd never walkaway, but did anyway
The evenings from her childhood when her parents wouldn't stop fighting
That night back in December when she got a little too drunk and cried herself to sleep
All these memories painted on a canvas
And in that moment, I knew I'd be the one to stay
Paul Donnell Jan 2018
at a table i sit
in an empty room

the ambient hum of myself in silence settles around as the smoke from my marlboro swirls around my fingers

fingers that ache for the impossible

the weight of my posture says more than all of tchaikovsky's musings...

as i consummate myself and dread with whiskey saved for a time just like this
shadows spin and dance and i become entranced with the spell i cast

soon the silence breaks and heaves as whiskey magic brushes a soft hand upon my cheek and fills the room with vibrant perfume

my fingers ache for the impossible

i break myself upon regret

i blink away the spell till i can see...

the ambient hum of myself in silence settles around as the cherry on my marlboro dies in the ashtray

just a moment
in an empty room
If all i can write about is you
than i'll write about you
until you are nothing but words
scratched into paper
Axion Prelude Jan 2018
The somber whispers of defeat haunt the wind; my skin reels at its chilling touch

Harmony concedes to an epithet of solemn solitude; it creeps within my very bones
JR Jan 2018
Anguish is me. Suffering is my blood. Pain is my heart. Despair is my brain. Numb is my touch. Gone is my soul. All I see is meaningless. All I know is nothing. My thoughts are like clouds showering acid, filling the growing rivers of depression. Sprouting more and more trees of anxiety. Sending bile snowballs cascading down mountains of doubt. Confusion festering, enough to black out the sun of belief. Traumatic obsession blinding my reason. Uncertainty fueling my unrealistically present pulse. The Reaper is hiding just out sight. A carrior-eater perched upon my brow. Grief and misery controlling my destiny. No distraction will conquor this day. Nor the days to come. I will function - but only enough to exist. My purpose is naught. My intentions selfish. Empathy was not made for me. I am in a world with no one else, yet they can see me. This world is quiet. This world is somber and yet more inviting. I've shattered the looking glass.

So don't come looking.
From some bad times
girl diffused Jan 2018
Oh,

you ghost so well--
& when the ball drops
so does parts of anguish

Gone is her salt/water
Gone is your sting of cuts

Yet,
not the memory of you

Your digital ghost
somehow lingers
I can't just write happy stuff, I dunno, man. Catch me on a better day when there's no champagne, whisky, or remnants of *** in my system.
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