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stillhuman Apr 2022
It's poisonous claws
scratching up from the inside
of my chest, they open
a path of lurid squalor
festering the internal wounds
with rotting meat
that spreads from within
to the skin that crawls
and dies, cell by cell
into the empty stale air
surrounding our conversation

The words float
from one breath to another
without ever really landing
to a precise spot
of connection
They just mimic meanings
and thoughtfulness
when they are void of any feelings

There is no spark of life
no life itself
denied to us
by the putrid scent
we ignore the existence of
No knowledge of pain
or reality
just a dull sense
of immortality
as we still
like the dust suspended
motion our lips without sense
nor sense of self
Corroding second by second
by second 'til we
become dust ourselves
"Natura Morta" is the artistic genre of painting still life
It resembles us so much at times
Àŧùl Mar 2021
My head feels heavy when
I get a lot of hair,
Or when I've an unsuitable pair.

My sight grows dim when
I get a broken heart,
Or when I see an unusual art.

My breath feels stale when
I get mouth sores,
Or in the morning I've just opened my eyes.
My HP Poem #1917
©Atul Kaushal
Man Feb 2021
do you fear fear

a nail biter? a bedwetter?
or are there other compulsions
you cling to

step out, from the stale shade of the dark
that consumed you
no longer does it
feel the warmth that the sun casts down
sometimes, it's all one can do to beat the blues

this road of life is rocky
and it sees us all stumble
you chart your course

stick to it

as a blade meeting grindstone
water's introduction to limestone
Em MacKenzie Nov 2018
Tell me I’m not stupid for allowing myself to feel,
searching out for the next wound before letting the former heal,
I’ve been convincing myself that the invisible path is real,
but it’s not wide enough for two; one can stand and one can kneel.

If there’s anything in this world that tightens my chest,
it’s the moment I am strangled by vulnerability.
I keep it chained away to the very best,
to the very best of all my abilities.
Take all those thrown away phrases
and piece them back together to hit my ears
it’s funny how the long silence still amazes,
amazes me after all these quiet years.

Are you Sonic the hedgehog,
‘cause this is a chaos emerald.
Wipe away the tears to see the fog,
my world shakes when once it trembled.
I’ve got an easy road ahead of me
where the path could be so easy,
but I’m drawn to walk into the sea,
I wish that instinctive pull would leave me.

We humans are such destructive creatures
we turn soil to scorched earth with just one touch.
It’s the curse of emotions and all it features,
makes us decline a cast and accept a crutch.
We fall prey to our monsters like a disease,
do I pick life support or a clean cut cure?
A solid steel spine or weak and shaking knees?
Toxic lungs or a gasp of air too pure?

Should I swallow this gulp of mundane routine
conform and erase all individuality?
The white picket fence in photographs is so pristine
but it’s covered in dust and mold the naked eye can’t see.

My storybook ending is incomplete
as I didn’t much care for the ending.
I traded in tragedy instead of something sweet,
‘cause I’ve never been so good at pretending.
All along there are holes both in the souls and plot,
and I wish to roll but can’t afford the toll as empty hands are all I got
Marilyn Heavens Oct 2018
I am asked so many times
Do I love this man of mine
My answer is there for all to see
For in my heart I hold a key
But now the years are rolling by,
My oh my how time do fly
I think about it long and hard,
Our life together, so unmarred
I ask myself do I love him still
And answer yes I love him still
But another question hangs in tow
Am I in love?
I answer no....
To be in love is to be obsessed
With *** and lust and a cosy nest
To be in love is for new affairs,
For holding hands and hidden lairs.
No No! I am not in love not now
but once I was and this is how.
My man and me we fell in love
Walking hand in hand together.
Swore our vows and led each other
Let no man put our love asunder
Natalie Bowers Sep 2018
I am the wilted roses in your vases,
I am the stale water in your glasses,
I will always be bittersweet;
A reminder of past kindnesses.
Abandoned by your neglect.
I linger.
Amanda Kay Burke Jul 2018
I am sorry if I've turned into a mess
You're so strong, you cannot break
I have my fair share of sins to admit
My well-being is at stake.

Your girl was all I wanted to be
Do I ever let you down?
I am not sure if I have it in me
To turn that beautiful smile into a frown.

You say all the special things I wanna hear
Words I've never been told
But it is time to admit I fear
This romance is starting to grow..

old
Do you like what I did at the end there? I thought I was being pretty clever haha.
YieShawn Scutt Nov 2017
like spoiling bread
my control is beginning to crumble
I use to be so strong I could walk for days
But I blindly ran due to being afraid
and now all my legs do is stumble
I'm dying to cry out
release the toxins in my head
but my words never pass a mumble
Sometimes I'm awake,
thinking about all the thinking
that holds me from sleep,
and I lie there and ponder
why i'm lying there asunder
just a little too tired to weep.

Sunlight probes my eyes
come the morning,
a Monday calls my limbs to move
but i'm dead weight not shifting
though the sand of time is sifting
but i'm playing dead, lying aloof.
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