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Jeremy Betts Jan 26
I'm not a good lover, no good at hand in hand
Never not been exposed, still I pretend
The real me casually breaks free,
What do I do then?
No suggestion comes in
It's what goes around then comes around again and again,
When will it end?

Nobody knows...
...I let no one in so no one knows the situation

I'm not a good adult, I'm not a good friend
Never not been exposed, why do I still pretend
The real me awkwardly breaks free,
What do I do then?
I suggest hide the specimen within
It goes around then comes around again and again,
Is it going to end?

Nobody knows... and rescue called off for no reason

I'm not a good man, I'm not a righteous person
Never not been exposed, I've given up pretendin'
The real me aggressively breaks free,
What do I do then?
Didn't we call each other friend?
What goes 'round, right 'round comes right 'round 'round again and again,
It's just not gonna end

Nobody knows...

Unpolished Ink Oct 2023
Curtains blow
through tight closed panes
not a breath of wind
but the shape remains
no breeze has settled on my windowsill
outside the sleeping world is still
and yet those curtains wander where they will
I turn my back on flowered fingers
and try to sleep
but the feeling lingers
Trying to suggest billowy curtains in the rhythm of the poem
Elsie Greek Dec 2022
When the time comes
to suffuse with cerulean,
It'd better be us
To come up with utopian
Never warned but
It's always a hot mess:
Lights, a decorous manner
             Of telling the truth,
So bombastic each trimming
                  Of your spruce!
Yes, guests..If only
    With obsequious manners,
           And de minimis SADs.
We will toast with
Most tarnished of their plights
To such a pandemonium!
We will wager in candlelights
To never cease
This ferociousness over the feast.
How can this be measured
                        By what it seems
In a moral world desperate
                                    To digest
Everyone, given it a chance
Until there's a fetid nuisance.
So, it'd better be us.
utopian ferocious cerulean suggestion
Ara Jan 2022
[do you have a suggestion?]

my brother pauses, turning to me;
"because you're full of great suggestions,
but you always say them too late."

he means no harm by it,
yet how do i put a name to this silence?
shutting up in compliance?

       —i shoved cotton down my throat,
       now i can't breathe—

when did the echo become louder than the scream?
maybe it was vegas, twenty-nineteen.
maybe I was never allowed to dream.

how do i speak my voice back into existence then,
when i can no longer remember its sound?
whispers, snuffed out so many times i've lost count.

[i forget.]
Copyright © 2022 Aranza V. Soto Torres. All rights reserved.
jǫrð Mar 2019
ℌ𝔢𝔯𝔢 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔠𝔲𝔟𝔦𝔠𝔩𝔢
𝔊𝔯𝔢𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢
ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔢𝔶𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔬𝔞𝔯𝔡
𝔎𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢
𝔐𝔢𝔫 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔬𝔫 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔯𝔶
𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔬
ℑ 𝔫𝔬𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔬
𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰
𝔗𝔦𝔩' 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔰 𝔪𝔢 𝔟𝔶
𝔖𝔬 𝔞𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱
𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔡𝔩𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡
The History: My working environment for the past 2 years has changd my perception of the world exponentially. Perception is as powerful as Suggestion.
Kenneth Gray Nov 2020
Hello suicide!
Its been awhile
Remember me?
Yer ol' buddy Kyle?
I need your assistance
To escape from this trial
Forgive me friend
If I'm unable to smile

Ah, yes! Kyle, of course!
Forgive me bud
If my voice does sound hoarse

I've been hanging around
Don't you see?
I'm glad you've swung by
To console in me
For my first recommendation
Is hanging
Yes, in fact
This is my plea
Might I suggest a rafter
Or perhaps a nice tree?
This ones on the house
Yeah, this one is free

Ah, yes! A hanging
But if I were to do that
A rope I would need
Not only that
But I could be rescued
And freed
Do you have another?
Please forgive me suicide
Forgive me for my greed
What else can I do?
Please consider my plead!

Ah, yes! I can do one more
But I'm growing tired and weak
And my neck is still sore

Take a handful of pills
And overdose
This I know you've tried
And you came really close
But you can't be easily rescued
And you don't need a rope
Do it! Destroy your dreams!
And trample your hopes!

Excellent! This one sounds great
For sure!
I do have a decease
And pills might be the cure
But what if I live
What if my body endures?
But this option has potential
And it has great allure
I'll consider this option
To you, I ensure

Well, well, well!
Look what we have here!
Looks like I'm successful
As if a death is near
Theree no need to panic
Theres no need to fear
However, I do need payment
So start paying in tears!
Now RIP my good friend
Its been fun mate, cheers!
I've dealt with suicidal thoughts alot in my life. So this is kind of like the dialogue I have with it. As if we know each other and were friends.
annh Oct 2020

I write to right the write-less, the unvoiced compendium of my experience. A

panoply of shadows between each line and behind the fumbled words miswritten

out of loyalty to the fiction I maintain. The letters which move beneath the page,

scintillating with suggestion, leaving their impression - a glimmer here, an echo

there; they are more honest than the fraught narrative that I deem fit to 'save'. I

write to right the write-less, to balance the unwieldy, to illuminate the intangible.

‘Every act of reading is an act of forgetting: the experience of reading is a palimpsest, in which each text partially covers those that came before.’
- James A. Secord, Victorian Sensation: The Extraordinary Publication, Reception, and Secret Authorship of Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation
Those concerns are gnawing
my world like a rat

A tiny tittering can heal
many broken hearts

Done much hiding
from the stress

Blood, sweat and tears
it makes you breathe fast

Dear Anxiety,
You might break my own
but you can't bury a soul
it is free

Muhammed E. K.  ☾  🅴  ✩
Thank you for reading. Hope you had a nice reading session.

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Muhammed E. K.'s debut poetry book "Light in the Darkness" is available on
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