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Sarah Flynn Nov 5
I don't know why
I keep writing sad poetry.

I'm happy now.
I truly am.

my life is getting better
and my scars are fading

and I'm so proud because
at thirteen, I thought that
by now I would be dead.

so I don't understand.

how could I be so happy
if my mind is still
conjuring up these thoughts?

I'm finally looking
forward to the future,
so why is my mind still
thinking about the past?
Kenneth Gray Oct 21
I've got the pedal to the metal on a highway to hell.
Gotta keep my eyes on the road. Only time will tell.
I struggle and suffer through each passing day.
Gotta change my route, Gotta change my ways.
I see the exits that are off to my right, as each lonely day
shrivels into night.
The hands of the clock aggressively tick. No time to decide, I've gotta be quick.
The exit sign reads "green pastures, still waters ahead". Gotta decide, or else I'll be dead. The sun rises in the east and sets in west, foolishly speeding forward at least I'm trying my best. Ignoring the signs warning "danger ahead!". I've gotta turn off, or else Ill be dead.
So focused, so determined, to barrel ahead.
Why can't I stop? Why don't I hit the brake? Its right there!
Turn off for Gods sake!
"Still waters, green pastures ahead". I rush along as if nothings been said.
"Excuse me, Lord? What did you say?" As I struggle and suffer through each passing day.
"I've told you once and I've told you twice. Is there really a need for you to be told thrice?"
I say "No Lord, the sign is there, I see. No need for a thrice, the problem is me.
The sun rises from the east and sets in the West, you know Lord, at least I'm trying my best."
"Still waters, green pastures ahead". With deaf ears I've heard it all said. Barreling forward. Soon Ill be dead.
"Still waters, green pastures ahead."
I was living a life that wasn't quite the best. I felt like I needed to change my ways, but felt stuck at the same time. I needed God. I was laying down thinking one night when the lines of this poem started coming to me. So I jumped on Facebook and started writing.
Bardo Oct 18
Sometimes you just gotta laugh the situations Life puts you in
Standing there stuck in the train, jammed in with all the others
'Cos the previous train had been cancelled
And now the crowd was too big to get a seat sitting down
I'm pushed up behind the back of this young girl's head
She has a pigtail or what was formerly a pigtail
It's been cut rather abruptly, truncated prematurely and then tied off
So that what's left of it now sticks out directly from the back of her head
And it's stuck right into my nose,
And of course, she's speaking to someone in front of her
And she's nodding her head up and down as if acknowledging
   her friend's words
And sometimes she shakes her head the other way
As if acknowledging her friend's negative feelings as well
So she's going Yes...yes....yes! up and down
And! the other way
And my poor nose is being mercilessly swished up and down, back and forth, all over the place
It feels like a shoe being shined or a car in a car wash
And it's tickling me something terrible
And I'm there desperately wiggling my nose
Trying to avert an itch or a sneeze coming on
And secretly hoping no one is watching this
Because I think I'd look real foolish if they are,
And I'm also thinking to myself "I know I could do with a bit more human contact/ intimacy in my life
But this... this is ridiculous,
And then I start thinking of this Site and all the lovely tender intimate poems I've read
Those lovely hugs and kisses, sweet cuddles and caresses
Those warm embraces and even warmer entanglements
And I'm thinking " Well that's just typical isn't it, others get all those lovely things
While I get something... something weird like this.
But then y'know after the first feelings of awkwardness and discomfort have worn off I start thinking
"But it is rather funny though" and then "actually it's probably the highlight of my day"
Gradually I find myself warming to this little pigtail
She's blonde (another blonde) like some lovely Swedish thing
With my nose buried in her, I get her scent, her sweet perfume
I breathe her in deeply
Then I find myself getting a little aroused
And I find myself almost talking to her, giving her a personality
"You mischevious little Pixie, you flirtatious little Trixie
You like to see me suffer don't you, the way you hit me back and forth
Baby you're so vile, but hey! I like your smile
Come on! Hit me again harder!
I'll never submit to you, you'll never rule me"
I could almost see her, some cold ice Lady wrapped in furs brandishing her whip
But then suddenly it's like I hear this...this little reply coming back at me
I think I'm starting to hallucinate
It says "Feel my scent, it's heaven sent. Here let me warm you up a little"
As again I feel the whoosh of her whip
"You *****! you *****!! I say defiant
"Hey there Serious Boy" she says, "afraid to be seen talking with me.
O! what'll they think, what'll they say Oooo Whooo!
Who cares, who gives a **** what they  think
It's just me and you here now, just the two of us
What about it Serious Boy, what do you say
Won't you come out and play, come out and dance with me
O! you're so buttoned up
Come out and laugh and be silly with me
O! drench me in lovely laughter and wonderful silliness
Big man in Poet land
Wanna hear some of my poetry
" The secret of the sun
   It's written on my ***
   Wanna see my secret ***'?"
"That's bad poetry" I say
Ignoring me she continues
"Through my eyes the door to adventure lies
Hey Boy! Let it swing, don't hold it in
Just let it dangle, dangle like an obtuse triangle"
I had to smile, "I like it Baby, your poetry, it really... really speaks to me"
And then she looks deep into my eyes
"I bet your magic wand, it's like James Bond"
She has me smiling and laughing to myself, she's too much
And I'm totally lost in this, our magical converse
But then suddenly...suddenly the world, it interrupts, our train it stops,
Some people get off, then she reaches down to get her bag
She starts to leave, to move toward the door
"But you can't go, we were just getting acquainted, we were just getting to know one another"
And it's like she gives me this one last wistful smile
And then she's gone, heading off down the platform
I was gonna go after her, follow her out onto the street
But I knew her owner, she'd probably soon start to twig
She'd turn and accost me "You're following me, aren't you, why are you following me ?"
And I'd say "I'm not following you, I...I'm following Her behind you. Back, back in the train we...we"
Then she'd start to scream "Stalker! ******!" and then I'd be grabbed, set upon
The police would be called and I'd be hauled off, dragged before some Court
Some Judge, he'd be looking down at me sternly, "What do you have to say for yourself ?  How do you plead ?"
And all I'd be able to say would be "Lack of fun, your Honour, lack of silliness, lack of... warmth in my life
My seriousness and indecision, their slowly killing me, like a tight gripping ivy
Their strangling all the joy out of my life
How do I plead ? Loneliness, I guess, loneliness in the first degree".

And y'know I still look for her in crowds and in trains, my little blonde Miss Pigtail, I'd know her anywhere.
And I still remember that day we had together and all the fun we had on the train.
More nose trouble. This actually happened one day in the train and inspired this. A Pre-Covid poem when you could have a crowded train, back in the good old days. This is reminiscent of the classic old British movie "Brief Encounter" LoL. A Love story with a difference.
Sarah Flynn Oct 18
if you tell me that you want to know
what it’s like to live the way that I do,
I will laugh to myself, because
the truth is you don’t want to know.

you don’t want to live the way
that I live, or feel how I feel.

and even if you did, you can’t.
you can hear about it
and learn about it,
but you can never feel
the way that I do.

don’t keep trying to understand
the way that my mind operates.
don’t keep trying to feel like me.

be thankful that you can’t.

but if you must know,
imagine this:

it’s early in the morning
and you’re at the end of a dream,
or maybe a nightmare.

you’re kind of awake,
but not quite. you’re groggy.
you haven’t gotten out of bed yet,
and you don’t feel like it.

and then you hear your
alarm clock going off,
and you realize, oh ****,
you’re late to work.

you need to get up now
and you know that.
but when you try to,
you suddenly can’t.

you’re stuck in your bed,
unable to even open your eyes.
you’re not paralyzed.
you seem physically fine,
but you’re stuck there.
you have an overwhelming
need to wake yourself up.
you don’t know why you can’t.

you’re stuck in your bed for so long,
you begin to think that maybe
the dream that you’re in is now real.
maybe the real world isn’t there anymore. you can’t think of a logical explanation.
it doesn’t make any sense.

yesterday, you woke up
and got out of bed, and you
made it to work on time.
you were even a few minutes early.
there was no problem at all.

but wait, how long ago
was yesterday?
you don’t know
if yesterday was yesterday,
or if yesterday was a year ago.

you’ve been stuck here,
frozen in your bed while
the earth keeps spinning.
you have no way of knowing
what’s going on
in the world around you.

you know that this feels wrong.
you should’ve been able
to start your day.
you shouldn’t be stuck.

you know that you can’t
be living in a dream.
that’s not possible.

you know you’re not asleep.
you’re wide awake, but you’re stuck.
you can’t scream. you can’t move at all.
you’ve lost control over your body.
you can’t wake yourself up.

imagine that no matter what you do,
you can’t wake yourself up.
sab ariana Oct 17
please make it stop
the pain of a beating broken heart
why wont it stop?
nothing is moving
except the hand on my clock
when will it stop?
it's unbearable
maybe i can rip it out
or drive a stake through it?
something please make movement
everything is so still
am i alive?
have i died?
all the days they seem to blend
will this pain not go away
not even at the end?
god make it stop
**** me if i'm not already dead
someone please
i'm begging you take my head
I was stuck in a rut,
Not in a place I knew.
I had my heart shut,
Through and through.
If you are someone who often gets stuck in places beyond their comprehension, you just might relate to this. Places where your heart stops working and you don't know what is real and fantasy. I've heard people facing a war against addiction often experience this and also in some cases it can be a medical condition, often beyond their control. But in the end, I think the human spirit is stronger than these places and it is what will survive. We just have to believe and have faith in ourselves, often the most difficult part but well worth it.

PS: The title is inspired by a song of the same name by 'The War On Drugs'. One of my personal favourites and highly recommended :)
ce-walalang Oct 3
being stuck, they say, is uncomfortable.
i believe it’s not necessarily true. for instance,

...i like getting stuck inside my room and read for a day or two or three or four, forever.
...i like getting that last song stuck in my head for a day or two or three or four, forever.
...i like getting stuck in traffic with my pen and paper.
...i like getting stuck in the moment...perhaps, with you.

getting stuck is an opportunity, staying stuck is unhealthy

staying stuck on a single story out of convenience regardless of its completeness is poison mistaken for remedy
the reclusive writer tells us a good writing day
Anna Sep 28
I see now, what I've done
And there's not a word I could say to use as excuse
I see why they've done me so bad
And I see why it never really mattered that much
All the events, and all the meetings
The feelings and the screamings,
They're all around one single reason,
I'm still here.

You'll see me as a violent drum,
Or a tempestuous sea,
Maybe a bitter licorice,
Or just a stone in your shoes,
But none of the ways you see me,
Will change_
How I'll still be here.
Rebecca Jan 26
It's 10:17 AM and my anxiety is eating me alive.
I feel as if I'm being swallowed whole.
No matter how far I run, He always finds me.
He sinks his teeth into my skin with no warning.
As much as I want to run and hide, I can't seem to move.
It's 10:17 AM and my heart is pounding louder than the car noises outside my window and I can't seem to find the oxygen to breathe.
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