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Slime-God Sep 2020
To sit upon my duty,
or finally act?
you ever get stuck doing nothing because it *feels* like something?
Chris Jun 2020
Can you hear me?

Do you feel the same?
You do?

Can you repeat me?

Can you give me my opinion?

Should we silence all disagreement?
I find that we all like being in an echo chamber, at least from time to time.
Madison Greene Apr 2020
Mid-day light shoulders it's way through my bedroom window
And I find spring like a letter from an old friend
She's changed, she's traveled, you should hear the things she's seen
I try my best to talk about her, the flowers she's grown and the skin she's kissed
I worry if she asks about me I won't have anything to say
I didn't mean to stay stagnant for so long, it's just I worry about falling too in love with life
I've always lost everything I've loved too much
apurupa Apr 2020
So you sate your inadequacies
With excuses and those poems
And you pretend that tomorrow you will be better
But you are unstirring from your heart
And the stagnant puddle you call your life
It is your air, what once was bitter

Complacence takes hold and you watch
That view from the window forever the same
Sunsets and seasons blurring in the horizon
One more hour, another sleepless night
An unfinished day and muted uneasiness
Is this apathy the only thing you rely on?

“Life drains my enthusiasm away bit by bit”
You complain, and to refuse reality
You firmly repeat it like a charm
But you know, one heartbeat away
One step further from where you fell last
Will crash into your illusion of calm

Numb your conscience with art
Devour everyone else’s talent
And take nothing but tears from their story
Leave truths to dent your steel façade
Yet bury yourself in denial
Safe, shielded, in your delusional glory

Bleeding heart, battering in its cage
Its screams drowned under ****** veins
It’s scary silent, your shell
You’ve locked down hard
Your defences caked with dreamland dirt
Too sturdy for reality to fell

Search like a madman for something
To ease the voice of discomfort
Try to bind it to a letter
And so you sate your inadequacies
With excuses and this poem
And swear that tomorrow you will be better.
GreenWitch Jan 2020
I just want to be noticed
For the talents that I hide
I want to be remembered for my light
But it'll most likely be my lies
Negativity becomes sticky in the mind
A tar that won't wash away
Like the bitter taste of a rind
Hatred grows inside and poisons
Each thought that should arise
Gratitude is lacking this day
Only resentment is seen in their eyes
Forget the rules and the happiness
That's been the goal of my life
There is no fairness in this struggle
I carry alone, my brittle bones and strife
Because I'm getting quite tired of it all...
Poetria Dec 2019
cold air is burning my face but the feeling is muffled, far away.
i look at you, stoic menace.
you are a block of ice and i am a flurry of snowflakes, raging, cold, soft.
you ask me what the heart speaks.
i do not know how to tell you what emotion is, just like i do not know how to explain to you what i am.

(things far too familiar are seldom easy to translate into a language someone might understand, a language that is not your own, a language you've forgotten the taste of)

mountains on my shoulders feel lighter than they should, and you take lightness to mean of less matter.
perhaps you think these mountains have a hollow center, are made of feathers.
you and i are two different forms of water.
i have known ice, and you have known snow, years before today.
i have known stagnance, you have known change, you took the word like an icicle to your chest, falling too far into your cave.
pull me out, you say, and i am frost lining your windowsill.
leave me be, you say, and you are a dull fog, whispering to glass.
through the glass, we interact.
you are trapped.
i want to see you cry for hours and never stop until you run out of what's made you so cold.
Clay Face Nov 2019
Stagnant and thinking

Confused and blinking

Age draws on

Yet still a pawn

Standard and simple

Dull and wimple

Wrapped in indifference

Trapped warm desire

In need of deliverance

If I come un-strewn

May I be blessed in womb

Re-birthed and open

More accepting and woken

New insight could dislodge this anchor

Only I can treat my own lamer

Once in motion

Loneliness is in emaciation

Finding friends in exploration

Finding one for intimacy

Not based on elegancy

Venerate character

Each must love the other entire

Both exchanging devotion and tenderness

Only full of equality, truth, and openness

Nurture platonic love, beautiful and scarce

Defend it like a dove, only vicious and fierce
Nik Bland Oct 2019
You are as you were
No more needing to be said
With eyes that bore tears in joy and sadness
And heart that consistently bled
And mine and your hands locked together
To brave life’s twisted sense of humor
And I knew that, in that, we’d overcome the world

We were never perfect
That’s needing to be heard
Ever present were these jars of truth
Bitter tasting, well preserved
With hands clasped we understood it could not be fathomed
As we locked eyes, yes, words, yes, but never hearts

Maybe that’s the good in it
A gift in cross’ed stars
The reality of a ever present door
That we both know is ajar
The knowing that the hand we hold can build the other up
With the power that so easily can rip us apart

You were the one I’d always wanted
I was the one you leaned upon
With me not knowing what you were
And your faith in your strength long gone
My love for you unending, understated, undeterred
And your love for me one undoubted, but for me undetermined

Each time you speak I hear you
This world’s distraction become blurred
You serve your homemade truths
And I swallow every single word
Can’t decipher lies because I know only what you convey
And in that, you’re the most honest person I know

Our views of each other work
On the level that was stand
Where we get to choose what we convey
As we offer each other a hand
The preachings of the lying tongue and giving of stolen things
An knowledge of the mystery forever kept

Maybe this is not worth the chance
Our self destructive ways
The pure carnage we could leave behind
In our search to escalate
Satan’s aspirations to rise are what led to the fall
So maybe to stay divine, we must stay content

And so we look, we taste, we hear
And we feel that that’s enough
Maybe in leaving the uncertain just that
The relationship is safe from us
Or maybe this is just the lie we earnestly believe
In fear that the rise will be more painful than the fall
Rowan Jun 2019
Let’s make this my way
a dash of something I won’t talk about
a flood of thoughts I repress and a dozen quacking ducks,
where did they come from?
No, that doesn’t matter,
nothing matters, not in this world we live in
China’s ‘ethnic cleansing’
Venezuela’s corrupt regime
ICE and US Border Patrol
Must I go on?
Oh, alright I could but I’m not sure everyone wants to hear about
how wrong they are
because obviously the solution to a venal government who only wants ‘what the people want’
is to shove a horse in a hospital, right?

Ha, but what’s the point in talking about everything wrong when we could
just not talk at all?
After all, that’ll cover everything else.

Depressed? I’m fine.
Anxious? Are you sure?
Every other spectrum, fix isn’t the word
here we show you how to get better,
we don’t fish out a black striped tie because
that’s too much of a blanket statement
about what, I don’t know.

A flow of red sludge, is that blood?
No, that’s the sea bleeding pollution,
hey, while we’re on the topic,
how about the rainbow painted oceans
castrated by the slick money maker?

Meh, what with a shoreline I can’t really control,
there’s a bunch of squiggly lines over in the upper left corner
and a random splash of water all over the canvas that’s not waterproof canvas
there goes California, Virgina, Manhattan, and Iceland.

Do you have a morsel of food?
Take that law abiding citizen and toss her into the category of ‘alien’
because she looks criminal, right?

Hey, they said you’re not human, are you?
Nobody asked.

Are you listening yet? Yes, you!
Red or Blue?
Green or Labor or Conservative?

That’s how it goes, or so I’m told,
I don’t really know how other countries work,
but the War of the Roses was pretty cool.

Oops, there goes your head,
wait that was the reign of terror.
Well, it seems quite terror-y again.

Finished? Maybe, I can’t tell,
the thoughts just kinda blurt out onto the screen
between the neural connections and my fingers,
Science rocks!

Of course, silly me,
You want to hear more, what an idiot I am.
Here, just look online, you’ll find another ten thousand reasons
why my generation wants to die.

You thought that was the end?
What a fruckle bumbler. I made that word up in my head
but guess what? Urban dictionary already has it, funny how it works.
Or not funny really, just… cruncklesnajin.

Hmm, I’m good at this. No, I’m just tired
of living where sharks and quicksand is more frightening than
the money disparity
of living where religion isn’t supposed to be a part of the state
that’s what they wrote, and I’m nineteen.

****, I’m only nineteen.

Let’s make this my way,
without my control,
without my considerations or desires or thoughts or power,
who’s to say? Perhaps I’ll find out tortoises speak sanskrit, because that how that works, or they’ll find another dead body in some back alley and we’ll shrug our shoulders with apathy, it’s just another day, have some tea.
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