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Jeremy Betts Feb 21
My worst fear realized
Beyond scared & paralyzed
the moment I recognized
the signs in the fading eyes
of a lover as she re-lives the lies
& cries herself to sleep with sorrowful lullabies
Ones only heard by the clouds and the stars they pass by in the night skies
The ones just as lonely and as distant as a sunrise
on the moons romanticized dark sides
mingling with the anticipated replies to the backlog of "why's"
that don't even bother with fly-bys
Somewhere out past where hope dies
Where both love and hate are lobotomized
then cannibalized
even weaponized
for passion triggered crimes
leaving no one surprised
Where the only allies one finds
arise in disguise
as the best of times
as the worst of times
building up to a multitude of inevitable good-byes
How was I to vocalize
a mess of this size
when I don't have the skill to visualize
loosing such a prize...

There is sorrow deep inside of me
So deep inside
I can feel it but can not draw it out

I ache to shed a tear
But the ache is not enough
My eyes refuse to shed my hidden sorrow

There is no relief
My very soul is lost in the depth of it
My sorrow is corrupting me

How much longer must I suffer
Wishing for help in my darkness
I'm not sure how much time I have left
leeaaun Feb 2
In shadows deep, where sorrows bloom,
A heartache lingers, a soul's dark tomb.
He asked me why I don't love myself,
Said, "I am tired of life, everyday."

A melancholy melody in the night,
Echoing woes, wrapped in pale moonlight.
His eyes, windows to a desolate sea,
Lost in the abyss of his own decree.

The world, a weight upon his soul,
Every step, an agonizing toll.
He questioned why self-love would stay,
In life's relentless, bleak ballet.

I spoke of dreams, like shattered glass,
Of moments gone, too fleet to grasp.
In the tapestry of time, threads fray,
A tired soul, in shadows, does sway.

Yet, in the weariness of his plea,
A symphony of sorrow, hauntingly free.
For love, a mirage in the distant mist,
A fragile hope, by pain kissed.

I painted verses in never ending rhymes,
Of beauty lost in the passage of time.
In nature's embrace, a mournful song,
Where the echoes of joy had grown strong.

"Embrace the self," I whispered, so frail,
In the silence, where heartbeats pale.
Life's weariness, an unending maze,
A tragic ballet, through sorrow's haze.

The soul whispers, the night descends,
A requiem for love, as darkness transcends.
He asked why I don't love myself,
I answered, "Dear friend, in sadness, delve."
Ander Stone Jan 26
witnessing the cracks
in your feeble armor
tears a whole
through a heavy heart.

I can feel the scars
upon your broken coil
and the salt flats
below your eyes.

he spilled the blood
of his bitter fists
upon that cardboard frame
the world calls your body.

he cleaved at the brittle coal
that is your aching bones,
yet you still carry yourself
upon the winter winds.

he spat in the ocean of your soul.

yet you hold on tight
to his arm,
as if he is the anchor
that keeps you safely in the bay.

and all you need do is obey.

fearful of the storm beyond,
of the deep blue of endless
you stay within the confines
of a jagged little shoreline.

he is the rope aroung your nape
and you can't help but hang yourself.
this is about so many women that I have known, and will continue to know as long as I live by a sea so black as the hearts of these so called men.
Jeremy Betts Jan 22
I'm not trying to be all "poor me"
I just write what I know
I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me
But what I feel and what I see is what I show
I know how sappy and pathetic my writing can be
But again
I just write what I know and I know a life full of sorrow
I'm glad that maybe you don't get why all my pieces are a bit gloom and doomy
Just please know
I am SO glad you don't know

Oh sweet pleasure,
Where have you gone?
Now that days are dark
And the tasks of the world are above me.
I can't see you through the mist.
My heart, covered as it is, feels you not.
Like being adrift in a vast ocean
Or alone in a confined space
I wait
For a truth which i know is out there...
The truth of knowing
Beyond doubt
That things will change,
That life will change,
And all I need do is wait
And my salvation will come
Like a ship on the horizon
Or a light of rising dawn
Which will
burn away the vapor.
I will see you once again my heart,
For now though
I rest in my unawareness
In my turmoil
In union with my grief
and the pain of life
I wrote this after reading 'sweet darkness' by David Whyte
Ander Stone Jan 16
I don't want to be here, all alone in the darkness of what it means to be human.

I don't want to be here, all alone in the darkness of what it means to be.

I don't want to be here, all alone in the darkness of what is.

I don't want to be here, all alone in the darkness.

I don't want to be here, all alone.

I don't want to be here.

I don't want to be.

I don't want.

I don't.

here I subsist trudging thru the cold dark,
numb to the world, numb to myself

flickering light finds me glowing
warming my frozen bones

with every sudden darkness the chill rushes back
each time the light goes out it takes a piece of my mind with it

as i reach toward the light to see why it flickers it moves away
just out of reach refusing my touch

my tired dry eyes blink and when they open the light is gone its warmth replaced by an even colder chill, the darkness even darker

I scream but there is no one to hear, did I scream if no one heard?
A sound reaches my ears like the wailing of a banshee,
my voice reflected upon the frozen landscape is the only thing to keep me company in this dark frozen waste.

My footholds broken.
sorrows of the heart
Ander Stone Jan 14
I must have been born some day,
some time ago,
against my will.

I must have been born because I have this body coiled around me.

I must have been given shape some day,
some time ago;
molded into something
my soul doesn't recognize.

I must have been given shape because I have this body coiled around me.

I must have been held in motherly arms some day,
some long while ago,
because I remember her saying
that she can take away this life as easily as she's given it.

I must have been held because I remember how many times I cried and asked to be held.

I must have been crawling some day,
many scraped knees ago,
through the broken glass of
always feeling so small.

I must have been crawling because my knees hurt so very much.

I must have been walking around some day,
some time ago,
against the frigid wind.

I must have been walking because I remember that unforgiving blizzard.

I must have been swimming some day,
some time long past,
holding on to dear life.

I must have been swimming because I have saltwater deep in my lungs.

I must have been running some of those days,
awhile ago,
from something
I keep trying to forget.

I must have been running because I feel so very out of breath.

I must have been given a body some day,
some time ago,
against my will.

I must have been given a body because it is suffocating me.

Because I don't feel welcome in it.

Because I don't feel safe in it.

Because my very soul wants to destroy it.

Because I don't want the memories it shelters in its bones.

I must have been given a body because it is forever coiled around me.

I must have been given life one day because I want to give it all back.
maybe these ideations can be seen as something beautiful?
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