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Dear titanic, tell me of how you survived your last hurrah- tell me of how you didn’t see the iceberg, tell me of how it felt to lay down on the ocean floor, tell me of how empty you are, the skeletons of your passengers are all but hollow husks- skeletons from a time that is now gone.
“I am not empty,” the titanic says back to me, her voice muffled by bubbles and groans from rust coated pipes.
“But you are, I say. “You are empty but filled with ghosts- yours, the oceans, theirs. They party and laugh and drink and dance and run in your rooms, your hallways that go on forever.”
“You are the empty one,” titanic whispers, rusty railings creaking.
Dear titanic, how did you feel, sinking, ripping in two- unable to be put together again, how did it feel becoming a broken heart? Did you bleed? Did you do it to yourself?
“Was your sink an accident?”
“What do you think?” She growls- groans and moans echo all around.
“How did the music players continue on as you sank- their instruments and lungs filling up with seawater as their somber music filled the ears of your passengers?”
“They just played on, soothing my pain,” came the reply.
“Dear titanic-” I started.
“Let me ask you- why have you come?” She demands.
“To learn your secrets of course.”
“That’s not why.”
“Who hurt you for you to seek me out? Why have you come?”
“I've come to find out what you did to survive.” I reply.
“Then you know now” She whispers, pipes groaning as she shook with mirthless laughter
“Do I?” I questioned.
“Yes.” I imagined her smiling at me- broken glass as teeth and sharp lines for lips.
“How did you survive?” I whispered, my heartbeat echoing in the stillness- needing to hear the words I hoped she wouldn't say.
“I didn’t.”


— dear titanic, tell me of how you survived your sinking // a.
25 février 2020
09:54 am
Ayn Feb 2020
An opal glacier,
Raven in the night.
An unreceived message,
Screeching warnings so bright.
A steaming screaming ship,
Unwilling to lose the fight.
A hundred escapes too few,
Now they’re all packed tight.
A thousand and a half dead men,
Who on that night, last saw the moonlight.
A coincidence by all means,
Which gave humanity a great fright.
A tragedy yet to be repeated,
As we move into the era of flight.
It was, in fact, a big series of coincidences and cut corners that led to this tragedy. Horrible luck, I do say.
Blank page
scribble a name  
peebles of regret
pile on the chest

WE collided
memories sink like titanic
affection eclipsed by apathy
avoid you like you're an active shooter
I'm sorry...
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2019
Boy saves girl
Girl so grateful she spits
Boy draws girl
Girl humps boy silly
Boy calls girl stupid
Then becomes popsicle
Goodbye King of the world
Girl blows whistle
Steals necklace
Gives everyone the finger
But at least her
Heart will go on
Or some malarkey

Oh, yeah!
Somewhere in there
A boat sinks...
Jill Jan 2019
I fell in love when the Christmas lights blurred around you
Creating this halo effect, and that's when, I knew, I found my angel
But my angel is not Biblical
He wears sweatshirts and the same old shoes
He talks during movies
He plays with my hair
And he's not perfect
He hurts
Hurts in ways that I wish I could heal
Hurts in ways that only real angels, watching from above, can understand
He hurts so much that he ignores the pain
Ignores all the pain
Ignores me too

I try to keep my heart afloat
But it's like the titanic,
No matter how hard I try
Which way I steer
It always crashes into an iceberg
It break in half
And slowly drowns the passengers in a froze ocean of depression
Where they scream and scream and scream
But all that can be heard, up above the surface, is silence

I'm hurting inside
And no one seems to notice
Maybe because I am so good at hiding it
Pretending it isn't there
Ignoring the pain just like everyone wants me to
Or maybe because no one seems to care
Care enough to look a little bit harder
To dig a little bit deeper
And find the teary eyed girl that hides behind her painted smile
Who's drowned all her passengers

I wish I had the wings of an angel
Not to fly away
But to fold around me
Like a cocoon of soft feathers and to have the
Silence
And I'll stay there, never emerge, never becoming this beautiful butterfly
Because butterflies are loved, cherished, appreciated
I am still this caterpillar trying to grow wings
Painting on this face
Sailing my boat
And idolizing the angel up above the surface

This black ocean
Filled with frozen hearts
Is made up of my tears i cry every night
The tears i weep in silence
-February 2018
Filomena Nov 2018
S.O.S.
we're in distress
require immediate assistance.

Come quick as you can
tell your captain, Old Man
and pardon my insistence.

We're sinking fast
our ship won't last
despite our best resistance.

But as long as she floats
get ready your boats
to salvage our existence.

C.Q.D.
please talk to me
as it is, we aren't left much persistence.
//In Morse shorthand, CQD meant "To all stations, Distress".
Letters from Lia Oct 2018
Your love for your man was like an ocean
Its getting deeper
Every time you sail to see his wonders
You thought you were safe
You thought you could swim
Until the storm came
The waves came running
Thunders rumbling
It destroyed your boat
You fell
And again you thought you were safe
You thought "I trust him, I will not drown"
But slowly, bit by bit
You didn't know
You were devoured by this love
You thought it was beautiful
You thought there were beautiful corals
You thought there were colorful fishes
But all you saw was thick muds
On the ocean floor
You reached the abyss
Dark crevices hovered around you
You got scared
You swam back
Trying to reach the surface
You swam back
Wishing to breathe again
But his gravity pushed you down
Your body became numb
You can't swim anymore
Your prescence disappeared
Your soul turned into words—"My love, I fought. I tried. But I'm weak and I drowned"
—dedicated to broken hearts
siin_li
Purcy Flaherty Oct 2018
We embarked upon a titanic voyage to a new world.
It’s said that behind every great man there's a great woman; But a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.
7 bells rang late that night, as our ship stuck fast; between the devil and the deep blue sea.

Fingers frantic! tapping code, as land lubbers row hard, pulling for freedom.

Sailors quickly battened down the hatches and stowed away the Riff-raff, for they knew fine words would butter no parsnips, Better here than there in 3 class.
Some fiddlers on the deck played “Nearer My God to Thee", As the bubbles rose from beneath the sea, come buckle down boys for the devils to pay, come hell or high water he’ll have his pay.
Mothers row, lubbers row, it's time to leave this god forsaken place.
Ten steel decks split and snap, as they join the *****, and hundreds either shriek or pray; as La dolce vita slowly ebbed away.
Mercifully the cacophony descends ever silent, as fifteen hundred souls become neither fish nor flesh, rotting from the head down.
Save our souls •••- - - •••
Bless all those souls lost at sea!
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