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Nishant Rawat Apr 30
Maybe I dwell on things too much
Keep on overthinking
These thoughts are such predators
Keep on consuming
Me and my words, I never uttered
Fear of ruining
The things that might actually matter
To me assuming
Everything is ok, it can't be better
Life not dooming
That's why I'm such a procrastinator
Keep on procrastinating
Procrastinating
David Bojay Apr 19
Skewed vision when I followed the cynosure//
Beam balancing
Can’t hold my own sometimes//
Made up characters to separate my thoughts from “myself”//
Split my cares in eights//
Off with the indecision//
Fall asleep as soon as the tears hit the pillow//
Head up, delusional//
Unparagoned//
So I think
Perception shields the egomaniac residing in me//
I make it seem as if so, but really with my intentions, I’ll never know how things will play out//
Misterpretating will be my end//
With no one to truly seek, I play with the inconsistencies.... so what about guilt?//
My character doesn’t mind the idiosyncrasies I portray... I do it for the show
Merging with the relentless and the glorious
It ***** to be Sweet, bittersweet//
Micah K Apr 6
There he stands alone,
Forever in thought yet no end result,
With endless possibilities every one explored,
Closure not found,
Mind forever bound,
So is the trap of thought.
I wrote this in a time when I had hundreds of poems in my head never being able to pin point one.
Dominique Mar 29
all of this
the world like a piece of meat
humor hatred saturday jogs
leaking balanced unbalancing

all of this
fleshy tender company
herbs conflict flooded staircases
dribbling sun on bus journeys  

kisses on benches
playful slaps pushes shoves
hugs

and us just sat here
tapping out words
listening to muffled guitars
the hum of the pipes
the flicking of pages

and us just sat here
opening curtains
remembering red hair
snippets of conversation

and us just sat here
the world on a plate
steaming bleeding sizzling
a slab of death of love of something

and us just sat here
nauseated and longing
the flies will come soon
they aren’t vegetarian.
aphroditez Mar 26
They told me,
to pour everything i have
and now they are asking me
why am i so empty.
Dominique Mar 25
the sky is so blue,
the ******
a tipsy lagoon dribbling sun-spit
crashing around
with its mucus rays
stumbling, heaving on doorsteps
punching drunkenly through windows
giddy and chaotic as it *****
air greedily upwards
windmilling glory
away from us as we exhale-
"what a perfect day
the perfect day to stay
inside
the perfect day to **** away"
the swaying, nauseous people say,
and the sky, the tipsy ******,
giggles as it throws itself
blue, unsubtle, with ripped tights,
glistening thighs, beautiful vibes,
unsteady, with love,
at the trees.
just a perfect day
Devin Ortiz Feb 7
Far worse than just living on borrowed time,
he was living on borrowed space.

The bullet would be bit, a future price so high, neglect was the only agency to survive the now.

Pulling forward, thinking forward,
such tasks had always been simple.

The lateral moves, the pulling inward,
that was all that mattered now.

He had reflected on what might be, what would be paid in time.

Now came the time for the real gestalt wizardry.

An individual across time is a power spanning infinitely between two points.

An individual across space is a power infinite an a singular moment.

At the axis of all where’s and when’s stood the final gamble.

He knew that now, that every threshold of influence across all space and time, mattered.

Within this amalgam of chaos stood purpose, and purpose would do fine.
Seanathon Nov 2019
Where the sea meets the horizons shine
Inquisitive your eyes
Where your hairline meets your eyebrows raised
There also are mine and my praise  

(4LINE)
The Vision - A Pretty Girls Brow Is A Horizon Of Sorts (Tess)
Confusion's forsaken my thoughts to the long-lost brothers of insecurity.
Forcibly taken and tossed aside to hide within the lies of insincerity.

Kindred servant's lullabies:
Forgotten songs of yesterday,
Soothe me into waking nightmare.

Lead-shoed memories float upon seas made of stone,
Buried shallower than a grass-fed grave.

Anxious tensor userp my synapse's happiness...
Clutching my eversweet peace like a spoil'd child.
Hidden from view,
but most certainly there.

Dare me to escape the frozen steel I call home.
Wrought Irony,
Dragging my prison beneath my feat...

Misspelling's intentional because my feat?
Dragging my feet.

Asleep at the wheel,
my heart is steel.

Awoken stone cries gravel tears,
bruising my feet as I walk,
Talking as if the sensation is anything less than profoundly real.

Tangency is my thought process,
Clever distractions from the harbor'd fears:
just look the other way.

Case in point:
Confusion's forsaken my tears,
as my fears fade away,
if only to return another page.
Ray Dunn Sep 2019
head,
stained on my sleeve.
voice,
lost to the breeze.
idk
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