Natasha Apr 9
Sometimes I wake up
And it feels like you never left
In the morning, I’m going to roll over in bed
And doze on your chest

Like I’ll come home to
The smell of old carpet & cigarettes
And watch reruns
Of the same cartoons
Over and over again

But, awake- I blink my eyes
And realize
That part of me & you have died
Now any emotion, I choose to hide
For it reminds me of you and I.
it's okay, I'm alright, I sew the stitches on my heart the best I can this time.
emnabee Apr 9
Metal petals
Quiet crickets

Misty mirror
Thinning thickets
Just have to throw this stuff away
ahmo Mar 26

beacon me home
like the smell of goodnight.

i'm always half-blind
& always in denial
that i'm half alive.

it wouldn't hurt
to trade the coffins in my mind
for memories of your blonde streaks
& white fists for black lives
in coffee shops
around the corner.

why am i buying all of this free art,

your nose is in the books,
your heart
in the
right place.
he has a penchant
for tinkering with stuff
if given half the chance
he'd tinker with his navel fluff

I've seen him tinkering
with working order stuff
that doesn't need any tinkering
put upon its cuff

some while back he
decided to have a tinker
with a room partition at the hall
and as a result of his
non essential tinkering
down came the east facing wall

tinkering is an occupation
of the tampering diddle
unnecessarily touching stuff
with an interfering fiddle
Danial John Mar 4
Why do I feel so uninspired?
High flyer
Tight rope walker

Why do I feel so insipid?
Fix it
Otherwise listless
Just a sniff

Why do I feel so bored?
Fast forward
Here we go
Oh lord

Why do I feel so insane?
In my brain
What's that feeling
It's not pain

Why do I feel so numb?
Going dumb
Asking if
Love is a drug
Zach Hanlon Feb 11
the parasite
and the host
eat, eat
feast on decay
eat, eat, eat
i'll feed you, parasite
eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat
consume me
Natasha Feb 8
my soul laughs with yours
the light in me sees the light in you
my fire burns your forests down
your breezes guide me to feelings
with which
I know not what to do.

I have no possession or jealousy
I have no sense of worry
Simply joy and curiosity
when I think of you.

So peculiar,
like sand slipping through my fingers
or wading through calm, open oceans
underneath a full moon.

I can sink or float if I chose to but yet,
I still cannot grasp you.

So I'll sit back,
and enjoy the view
for what we have is beautiful.
very at peace with my sense of self right now and where I am situationally.
Garry Jan 31
What's the point?
a nice house,
a conservatory,
a 4K television,
a loft conversion,
a beautiful bathroom,
a pretty garden,
a garden-grill ten feet from
a fully-fitted kitchen,
organic box deliveries every week,
holidays abroad every year,
a shiny car with heated seats

It's all just fucking shit
that you'll spend the best hours
of the best days
of your ONLY life,
Bent double over
a desk or
a machine or
a counter
to earn the money
to pay for it all
before you die
What's the point?
Yeah I was in a bit of bad mood, I guess, but fuck it - this is what came out for better or worse...
Gabriel burnS Jan 24
My real gender is
Lavender in november
Real love ender
Never the pretender
Role playing ember
Too hot, too cold
Never too average
Even the dreams
Of my ashes are savage
going crazy... almost there...
Natasha Jan 20
history repeats itself, my friend,
a lesson I've learned time and time again
that mistakes we make will always come back to haunt us

and things we've left unsaid will always scream out
to taunt us.

by and by the wind she tries to sway my fragile
addled mind. and the trees will follow suit for she
(the wind) is one to be reckoned with.

seasons may change,
winter to spring
as the snow melts, 'twill prompt the birds to sing.

and right on time, the warm southern breeze,
carrying a scent of chamomile and

petrichor through the city
so serene.

and how things have changed,
how different
this next year will be.

I'll run through the forest through fields and sunshine
to the lake so cold, and rush in
to escape time.

the inevitable following, silent ghost
the one true thing that scares me the most

is that this is all in the past,
all a dream
all memories
just waiting to be made.

*history repeats itself,
if not now
one day.
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