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Go, my weary soul, go and rest
Go, my saddened thoughts, go to bed
Close your eyes for a minute or two
Calm your heart that drowns in blue
Go, my lost friend, and look upon the crying skies
Go, my lost god, and find the missing stars by night
Walk one more step along the journey with the weight you have carried
Set your eyes for the treasure, all the memories you have buried
So go, my lovely dear, go and rest
Go, one last time, before goodbye and make do of the best
There is a
buzzing to my
busyness.
My mind refuses
to be at ease.
It happens when I
try to
read or sleep.

Doing Always.

Where did the
playground go?
I think it split for
Brazil with the
squirrels.
We are all nuts.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VsFfqF7Cuhc
Here is a link to my YouTube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published books: Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, It's Just a Hop, Skip, and a Jump to the Madhouse, and Sleep Always Calls.  They are available on Amazon.
I bin billions...
I bin the idea I’d sink and burn
I bin men with no discernment...
Or taste but no measurement
I bin freedom if it’s flawless...
And men too tired to learn this
I bin all this.
I bin birth.
I bin the thing that makes it hurt -
So I try to bring thirst...
Drive this doubt into the dirt
And stir this thing into reverse...
—burning sweet these silver birches,
Stepping glassy eyed in churches,
Growing curved through the highest steeples,
Opening the eyes of the highest evil...
Seems we finally prove us equal, to elevate one perch
Teesha Aug 20
It’s one of those days again, accompanied by a dull ache,
Where even walking, even rising from bed, feels like a task.
My eyes stare blankly at the walls — life is wuthering,
But I make it a point to wear a mask.

This mask tries to obscure the pain within,
But we all know it’s a sham — the ones who matter can see it all.
They try to cheer me, say, “Get busy,”
But how to explain? Busyness cannot solve it at all.
I have carried battles in my chest,
Armor made of weary breath,
Every dawn a call to stand,
Every night a clenched-up hand.

Scars have been my only crown,
Victory weighed my spirit down,
Even triumph tastes of ash,
A fleeting spark, a fading flash.

Now I dream of gentler skies,
Of quiet streams where silence lies,
No more wars to prove my name
Only peace to quench the flame.
Even a warrior becomes weary of battle. Peace is sought and nothing more.
mysterie Aug 16
dreams,
let them float
to you.

don't try
to make them
into something
you wish
to dream about.

just let
the universe
decide.
date wrote: 17/8
little thing i wrote
Limes Carma Aug 16
I’ve seen how fast
A life can pass
Yet I’m too tired for life’s dance
Too worried about the egos
of the worlds cast
And too stressed to pick up the trash of my own little worlds past
Ariannah Aug 14
Do you have any idea
How illegal it feels not to be able to cry in your own room?
because being heard is too high of a risk
and instead,
you have to tip toe to the bathroom
careful not to make any of the crying sounds,
Just to get in there
and unconsciously fall on the hard cold ground,
searching for the bit of light
you once saw at the end of the tunnel.


But then you realize
that maybe down there is where you belong,
maybe that's where you were supposed to get to once you felt like all you do is wrong,
and it just feels like the right moment to give up
when there's no more air entering your lungs,
Or no more hope hidden deep into your heart,
when your head can no longer rest on your shoulders,
and it has to fall on the hard wood door,
when the tears streaming down your face are too many than your messy hands and clothes could handle,
and the eyes just hurt too much to be opened by now..


But you have to get up,
You have to calm down,
You have to find a way to make yourself able to breathe normally again,
So you crawl,
And you crawl,
till you reach something that could help you get up,
Only to feel physically hurt by one's actions.


You stare in the mirror,
And question how did we even get here;
You no longer recall or remember any of the things happening outside the room,
When all you have to do is fake smile and move on.
No.
You're just staring at yourself.
And it's just you.
But you right now look more like a monster, a messy unloved piece of art that just reflects how you feel because it's true..
But it's still you.


And it only took you that moment to realize that you had lost...
But not just any game,
you lost the version of yourself you never thought would live again..
And you're empty.
You just feel defeated.
There in the bathroom looking in the mirror.
And it hurts.
It hurts not to be able to look in your eyes,
It hurts even more just when you see you cry.


But you hold on,
And with your trembling hand,
You turn on the water and try to wash your face,
as if the sadness would just come off;
like some messy make up you forgot to whipe off.
So the tears go,
But new ones just reappear,
And the sadness you thought was gone just keeps on hanging near.
And it's close.
And it hits again
with a type of hurt someone only feels when they are too scared to try again.
And it hurts.
It hurts because it's rare.
To still love and not feel like they really care.
Or maybe they do
but you're just too hurt to think
of another 50 ways of how this is not a real thing...


But you're still looking in the mirror,
and you realize you kinda have to go,
because you spent too much time hanging low..
So you whipe all your tears,
and put on a big fake smile,
then crawl back to the door,
But you stop.
you take a big deep breath,
and lift your chin up like you didn't loose yourself in there.


And you open the door.
And try to normally walk into your room
Like your heart isn't shattered into tiny pieces scattered because it just went "boom".
And you get in there,
but you're too afraid to speak
cause even the silence feels too loud when you're just trying to keep,
keep yourself sane
and tell yourself how it's just gonna be ok.


But it's impossible to make yourself think that way
When the only thing you were able to think was just how everything got destroyed in the time of a blink.
Arpitha Aug 12
I’m tired to the bone
Exhausted
Fatigued
Weary
Even the small tasks
feel like a burden
No!!
I don’t want to get up
Don’t want to pretend
that I am okay
All I want is
a dreamless sleep;
to wake up
as a new person
who no longer feels like this.
I keep screaming
That I want to be great
I'd even settle for "okay" again.
But pieces of me
Shift and chip away
And I can't remember
How to glue myself back together
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