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i never really know anymore
how to live without expectations
you're always playing dangerous
i never know how to say this

you're always with one foot out the door
and i'm feeling pretty reckless
you never put me on your guest list
i never know what the test is
if it doesn't feel right, it'll always feel wrong
H E L E N A Feb 25
I've been still,
Caught in a sweet stasis,
Buried under the same, baseless
Candied gags, slippery hags, body bags ー
But I can't go back.
Haven't moved forward either,
So I still sit silent here.
Maybe I'll someday wither ー

Like dandelions as they scatter in the wind,
I will feel no more the weight of societal sins.
Staying awake in anticipation;
That feeling you get when you see a road blocked
and a wrecked car hoping it was an accident
Eventful; excitement to see that tar black
Crimson on tarmac
and those trampled, broken-pretty shells ー

I want to be a doll.
A pretty hollow pale porcelain
you still can't hurt when I slip through your hands,
Or when you let go and drop me,
Or smash me into the ground ー
It's all the same, isn't it?
You buy, bore, break, blame, build, rebuild
Rebreak, reblame, replace...

I remake real-fake love into stanza-sized stories
Just to rebrand them as poetry;
A molded part to inspire some abstract art.
They're better off that way,
Locked in and stationary;
Sweet standstill sanctuary.
And I'll stay to watch their models fail and break,
As they too, disintegrate ー fellow ******* degenerates

This time I was at your disposal,
But we're all just glorified disposables ー
Ever-hungry, hedonistic at heart.
Excuse her language.

"THOUGHTS"
Keith Mitchell Dec 2018
consciousness
sitting on a fence
realm of stásis
heart floating in one direction
common sense in the other
eyes stay wide
deep and far reaching
universe just outside my reach
fingertips yearning
loyalty
compassion
someone there
no hoops to jump through
circumstances appreciated
never expected
rising in the moment
appreciation of gratitude
given
consistency
sparkle in your eyes
your touch
meandering kisses
oral rapture
touching my heart
vibration a ripple
far reaching effect
unknown
brilliance of you
Alexander Foe Dec 2018
When my hands
succumb into numbness,
When my feet
descend into paralysis,
Would it catch your sight?

Will my little whimper
fading into silence,
Would it touch gently down
on your ears?

When the last
Spirit and Breath
Dissipates

Will anyone bat an eye?
Would it mean anything

Around the cacophony, as I die?
thomas Nov 2018
we’re at a standstill.
my father had a word for it,
he called it: “out of stasis”.
he said that we’ll
never think the same
for as long as our thoughts
are different.

our minds are in a constant battle.
sometimes we’re allies,
and sometimes they fight;
a bitter contest without a clear winner.
constantly warring, always pushing
for that mystical light
at the end of the tunnel.

and what are we fighting for?
what, in this endless war
are we striving to get?
from a psychology standpoint,
we are looking for stasis.
equilibrium, where our minds meet
and we are at peace.

and how do we get that?
working together may do
the trick, or maybe it’s something
that must be won by one party.
peaceful times for one, means
chaos for the other.
the dreaded, so called “out of stasis”.

being in stasis, together,
conjoined in one goal
seems to be the ideal scenario.
and how do we reach this point?
where our minds meet, and
we agree on the terms?
how about this:

let’s try to connect
on an emotional level.
let’s resolve this battle.
stasis can only be achieved
through consensus. so,
let’s get down to to it,
and agree.
honestly more of a blog post than a poem, but i wrote it with a poet’s mindset.
believe it or not, this is somewhat of a unrequited love poem.
for you.
Diána Bósa May 2018
take a train
seek a station
sense the location
nevermind the destination

thus the landscape is just a mindscape;
a vastness of space, a great unknown
we built for each other,
a wall of falling - a distance of stasis.
Tony Oquendo Jan 2018
The shadows paint my soul inside
and leave this trail for you to see
the darkest story where heroes die
and mortal souls beg to be free
I dance in dreams of joy and mourning
black tears without a care
and live out this dream set before me
midnight whispers in the air
Gabriel burnS Nov 2017
come won't you stay awhile
come won't you brush denial
off of my lids

come won't you stay awhile
come so I brush denial
off of your lips

come won't you stay,
your hands in mine,
come won't you rest your palms
so we can peel
impossibility
and build the bridge within
and heartstrings hold the roads
and hands interlocked will close
the distance
in handfuls of deliverance
M
Diána Bósa Nov 2017
Only imagined the moving,
dreamed the breathing
for I was walled up alive
beneath the body of life,
its womb was my tomb,
its stasis was my shroud,
yet, my immurement
is come to an end now, though,
for I can witness the rising
of the dark harvest moons
under your eyes.
Diána Bósa Aug 2017
Imprison the blaze
for unlearning
the ghost of our light
to bow down before
an interim simulacrum
of the sham.

You said,
that the colours are so hurting;
that this soundless shapelessness
comforts you.

I cannot extricate you.
Cannot unleash
from the unbreachable
for I learned that
this stasis is your only home.
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