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Sewing seeds of doubt
No need to shout
Just whisper little words
Into my ear
Dispell all that I hold dear
Mental brainwash
Emotional downpour
You sear me like a steak,
Eat me raw,
Leave me sore.
Kirsten Hunt Jan 6
Tell me your pain.
I'll show my scars.

I am my own problems.
Every break and sore.

I won't deny my thoughts of death.
They have become me.
Elizabeth Brown Nov 2018
Insomnia leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
How is it that I am tired to the core
and sleep evades me another night?

The sun rises, as do I.
I'm so tired all the time now
Everyone asks whats wrong,
and I don't even think before I use the automated reply,
"I'm fine"
But am i really fine?
I truly don't know anymore....
I'm to tired to even care about my own well being.
Am I the only one?
I sure feel like it......
lmnsinner Oct 2018
she asks at last,
is this one for me

“of course it is,
was waiting for visualizing
the Oh,
when I heard
you stumbled into it”

she then confesses,
she has
a “tendency to stumble”
without an explanation

her answer is in her manner subtle,
that instantly invigorates,
so decidedly her style,
her answer,
raising more questions,
defeating the illusion of
anybody masculine overconfidence of the challenger

she puts the ”oy” in coy,
deflating my upper-handed attitude,
with an answer tantalizing and hinting,
so simple, it explains everything
and nothing

it seems that when she stumbles,
it’s me that actually,
“all fall down”

ah woman,
when you best me,
it brings forth the best
and adds an
“a”
in this poetic beast,
two play fighting cubs nipping
each other. the in us gaming

in this wordplay game,
so exciting,
her subtle reasoning teasing
results in a man as
a happy sore loser
Outside Words Oct 2018
My back is sore
My bones they ache;
I'm far too young
To feel this way.
© Outside Words
ómra Oct 2018
i am… tired.
almost impossibly so.
my bones ache and every time i pass
a grassy hill, going somewhere-
always going somewhere, doing something-
they beg and plead to lay down and rest.

to let the grass grow over them like a blanket,
let the sun bleach them of the responsibility
of holding my body up.

i press raw fingertips to their groans
and keep walking, eyes up,
not looking
as the hills beckon.
to go to sleep would be
the sweetest way to give up
Daisy Marrow Jan 2014
I'm numb to my bones.
Every inch of me is sore.
I'm rotting away
until I'm left with nothing more.

I want to feel.
I want to feel something
yet I don't want to give in,
but instead greet death as an old friend.
When he comes knocking at my door
you won't hear me crying from pain no more.

I'm standing in the ocean
letting the waves wash over me.
Singing the song of the hopeless
as I follow the waves back in the sea.
Just to feel something
for the last time
I swallowed and greeted the salt water sting
into my lungs.

It finally felt so good
to feel something.
I felt free
as I became one with the sea.
georgia sophie Jul 2018
being without love
makes me sore
not holding onto life
not moving forward
not thinking clearly
i am a mess
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