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created a photo and now
go ahead and now go on your way

created a photo and now
there is no turning back never and all

moments fly and therefore they are not
they were never like me
like all the photos that were

18.11.18
documents around them
documents they are a poet to me
documents they are lira
documents they are guitar
they are a guitar they are a guitar
they are the violin they are the pianos

documents around them
the documents are sung to me again
documents on how to get away from them
documents never to leave
because always always always
existed were were were they

13.11.18
aj kamaria Nov 11
THEY make you feel special-
and then leave as if you were nothing more than a bag of trash.
THEY tear you down without even knowing it-
slowly chipping away the pieces most prized to you.
THEY sink you to the bottom-
and only then do they leave so you’re left drowning;
watching them float back up;
wondering how they manage to be completely fine after wrecking your life.
THEY lie and steal-
parts of your heart and carry it with them as trophies of all the people they’ve hurt.
THEY make empty promises-
they seem solid, but in reality are nothing more than hot air.
THEY are the **** of the earth-
and they reel you, offering you the world knowing that’s exactly what they’re going to ***** from you...
Dani Nov 8
I don't turn my back, I stare them in the face.
They.
Like a shadow follows its host in the spotlight of the moon in the most quiet time of night.
Shadows.
Following, lurking, staring. They, the infamous they.
There is no name, there are no words known to me to tell you what they are. What they do. How they taunt me.
They stand near me, whispering, screaming, begging me to come.
I cannot run or hide for they are with me wherever I go.
In my happiness they laugh, knowing they'll tear me down, knowing it won't last.
They scream for help as if I am their savior. It makes me want to go to them, hold them like a child covered in darkness, but their blood covers me, it blinds me. Are they real?
Why do they need me? I ask why? Why did they choose me?
How can I possible join them? Can I? should I try? If I do does that make my heart dark too?
I am afraid to go to them, but they call me. They stay with me.
All my joys tainted by their shadows.
Are they a part of me? How do I cut them out of my head, out of my heart? I can't breathe, at least I don't think I can, yet I am here with air in my lungs. How do I make it stop?
How do I cut them out of myself, stop the whispers, the screams, the begging, the darkness? How do I tell someone? How do I explain this without getting put away?
Written during an anxiety attack.
D Letwixt Oct 29
Dewdrops on the grass
Shudder in the new sun
as they disappear
Fay Kim Oct 16
One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

I see my flaws at the door
You're shaking their hands and letting them in.
I sit so close - skin to skin while you discuss my chopped hair and tarnished skin
Blandly discussing how you want me thin.

Five.

Six.

I blame the mirror for making me like this.
Counting the marks that don't look so beautiful - don't shine or sparkle.
Fighting the tears and biting my lip
I look at you with reassuring eyes.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.


I don't think you ever wanted to be mine.


Ten.
Sarah Sep 28
They
They all deserve to die
To suffer as much as a brother who died
As much as a mother who was burned alive
As much as the nations they turned to ash
They
But they who?
The children of ancestors who's long been gone
Innocents beheaded for the crimes of the old
Lives sacrificed to vengece a crime occured decades ago
They
They who?
A question that people hardly try to look up an answer to
For it's answer too has been lost
In the graves of those who commited the wrongs
Yet
"they" remain
Yet the pain remains
So does anger, so does vengence
As bright as a burning flame
People aren't defined by the crimes of their governments, or else, we'll all be criminals now.
fearfulpoet Sep 26
objects in the distance may be closer than they appear  

how many thousands of times
these words mirrored blankly upon my eyes

only today did I-read them accurate

from the nowhere    from a great void
someone stepped and lifted me from a
rubbled prone
where there were no options
asking for nothing
over and over I beseeching

now I see
in the mirror
those words

I see only them
in the heart human
the object so close
it writ upon my face
proudly
They never really cared.
She never really thought about you.
We never really say what we mean.
He never really loved her.
He never really wanted your pitty that year.
She never really tried.
He never really fit in.
They never really wanted to be your friends.
She never really got over him.
We never really think about others first.
He never really forgave her.
She never really wanted forgiveness.
They were never really good people.
He never really "didnt mind".
We never really open up.
She never really said that one thing you wanted to know that one time.
He never really found himself.
They never really got to say goodbye
We never really want to say what's wrong.
We never really want to fix what's wrong.
We never really want to let go.
We never really let go.
We never really cared enough to see the other stories.
You
Never really thought, about all the little white lied "never reallys".
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