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Artem Mars Feb 2020
If I had said something to you
would you have even heard my voice
we share blood
not exactly
but soon we will be miles apart
I wished we would've changed it
I wish we could go back
I wish you'd try to get better
Cause you made mom's heart go black
She cries all night
I could care less
She misses you
I wish I saw you as a mess
You are broken
She's torn
She's your second choice
You make her laugh when you're around
but little do you know
you're dragging her down
to be brutally honest, I wish
you would go
but that would mean
talking to shows
If I were to tell her all that I know
I'll reassure you,
you'd have no place to call home
And wouldn't that be fair
You never liked to share
You were lazy and never
showed that you care
I won't tell you, the things that I know
but what would that do?
No one would hope
The scotch tape I hold
And the glue that I carry
Will keep mom together, until I get married
Then I will know the struggles
you feel
Because we are one and the same
We stem from the same wheel
This is about my Step-dad and I would like to note, I'm sure he's a great person, but this is something I feel I had to write eventually, and he's not doing his part to heal. It's not his fault for how he is, it's because of his mental disorders. And I guess this poem takes it's roots in the fear that I and he are one and the same in the head. and I don't want to  go through life, tearing families apart like he does, because I've never seen a healthy relationship, I guess this is from the panic of 'what if I'm just as bad and I won't know how a healthy relationship looks'
ok rant over sorry
Carlos Iglesias Feb 2020
Why should I tell you?
Would you care?
Would you help?
What would you do?
Afraid of the cold shoulder or a negative impact
For which it would break me in two
I cannot take it from you
I have experience in taking in the damage not known
A soul conflicted of what to do
Why I don’t tell you,
Is to save us all together
Attempts to talk only over shadowed by my own self-doubt and fear.
Carlos Iglesias Feb 2020
Examining the swamp:
Dense fog and uneven mud
Whispers fill the wind of thoughts, I should say.

Examining the dawn:
Ray of light paves the way
Of what I am truly meant to say.

Although both speak true, I cannot seem to speak
As the mud passes over my feet, drowning any sense of escape

How I truly mean to say I love you
But remain so far away.
When to talk about your problems you are stuck in daily.
Poetic T Jan 2020
Have you ever read
              Something so stupid

It felt that your brain just
      Commited intellectual
                        Suicide.

Some people need to lesson
      There vowels
        Keep there syllable dribble

On the inside.

     Because when I listen to
           Some people my brain

Wants to commit suicide.
gracie Dec 2019
im crazy and youre an *******
and then we’re both sorry.
i. b.
Amanda Kay Burke Dec 2019
Mastering the art
Speaking without thinking through
Skilled in hurrying
I always stick my foot in my mouth
Max Neumann Dec 2019
ermh:

hello, mr. bucket.
i need you.

i need you to listen to me.
i need you to feel me.
i need you to give me advices.
i need to speak to you at anytime that suits me best.
i need your private number.
i need you to help me and i need you to
heal me.

i need
i nee
i ne
i n
i
Hello, Mr. Bucket
Dream Fisher Nov 2019
Are you reading this?
Is it loud enough to reach you there?
What time is it? It's getting pretty dark here.
The stars are bright but there's clouds tonight,
Small talk all about the weather,
Only lacking something better to say.
There's so much more to say.

Keep it simple, good morning.
Take a picture of all the surroundings
Show me your day, show me your world,
The things that make you tick,
The ones nobody sees but secretly,
They really mean everything.
The stuff that makes you smile without trying,
The dreams you're on while I'm writing,
Show me that world.

Tell me all the things you think,
The thoughts you hold back
because someone might laugh.
Someone might cut you off
While you're sinking your soul into a thought.
I won't interrupt, tell me all of it, I insist.
I wonder, if you're reading this.
Kosta Chiamb Nov 2019
Fresh Guatemalan coffee roasting,
the aroma sedating everyone in the café,
calmness ensues

Jovial conversations filled with sincere appreciation for the company they have
each corner of this café vibrating with positive energy
I’m watching and hearing all of this from the back of the room
my corner has a small table,
two seats and I occupy one
the empty spot mocking me

All the noise and life in this room has no effect on me
I wear my smile and drink my liquid sedative
in the middle of all this beautiful chaos I find myself detached

my reality skewed and fixated on a negative perception of my young life
the stress has convoluted my heart strings

even with happiness in the air smothering me it fails to make me feel alive
regardless of all the people in this room I feel isolated
it’s as if I bought a first class ticket into the oblivion
the cold, deserted, barren wasteland that is my mind
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