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Sometimes I wish they hurt me physically
So that it would hurt less as days pass
It will fade of with time
But all they did was
Hurt with words
Words which had power of knife
The knife which went straight to the heart
And stabbed
Which stirred up a deep scar in the brittle heart
Nothing could ease the pain
For the reason that no one saw it
The scar was heavy
So it when deeper and deeper
Just like that deeper into an abyss
It stabbed right in the brittle heart....
I want you holy in your ruin,
with the cracks still open,
so I can crawl inside and live there.

Come back crowned in all the pain you’ve earned.
I will not flinch.
I will anoint your scars with my tongue,
light candles in the hollow of your ribs,
and worship whatever’s left of you.

I am not waiting like the patient do.
I am waiting like prophecy,
like flood,
like plague.
I do not wait to love you.
I wait to devour you,
softly,
completely,
as if you were the last god left,
and I the last believer still on my knees.
BloodOfSaints May 28
I would rather die in the ruins
of this obsession
than live without it.
Ahlam May 23
Just as I expected
You crossed the Finish line
Just as I thought
I was left as disappointed as I first was
You saw the painting but never the canvas.
You told me you could walk but never tried it
Your tongue poured honey but its taste was rotten
You only wanted what I had, never who I was

Yet you still think you have the right to stand
Call yourself taller, bigger, better
Tell me that I'll never get to your level

But all I think is that you're a coward who's afraid
Afraid of seeing your face , hearing your voice and fighting your rage

You make life dull
And I make it full
Sure I failed to realize before
but now I'm sure

someone trapped in his own cage
will throw away the key
and imprison himself even when free
Casoyume May 20
And I would do it for you,
Fight on the battlefield,
An endless crusade,
I would worship you
My belief would never fade
It would sustain,
It would remain.
I would do it for you
I would do it for you.

And I’d do it for you.
Used as your blade
To be rusted and thrown away
Disowned, becoming alone.
Yes, you are a king,
But would you please
Come off your throne.
I’d do it for you
I’d do it for you.

And I did it for you.
As the memory of it all
Begins to falter and
Dissipate, escape,
Without chance to
Regenerate,
Still, I wouldn’t hate.
This tragic melody
Happens to be my destiny.
It was made for me,
Intrusively, an epiphany.
This entire time, you truly
Had little interest in me.
I did it for you
I did it for you.

I did it for you.
Cadmus May 21
🥃

I must’ve been drunk,
under a spell,
or half-asleep
with my soul on mute

because some of the people
I let into my life
were the kind
I wouldn’t let near
if I’d been even
half
conscious.

Not in daylight.
Not with clarity.
Not with my guard up
and my self-respect awake.

like a fool
hosting thieves
in the middle of a dream.

🥃
This piece captures the bewilderment and regret of past emotional decisions, highlighting how vulnerability, distraction, or denial can invite people into our lives who never deserved the invitation. It’s a bitter laugh at our own temporary blindness.
Em MacKenzie May 18
A beauty that’s rarely seen,
only reserved for the May queen.
Dancing under her midsommarstang
when the time speeds up but it still seems so long.

We can share some codependency
we can share some trauma and blood.
If you were to leave it would be the end of me,
is this the type of story we tell of love?

Sadly there’s some poetic irony
of the horror when you witnessed the elders jumping,
still human enough but too lost to see
you were in the line; one day to be waiting.

Confuse possession with protection
mistake bare empathy for tender caring.
When’s the last time you felt needed affection
except for the wrong type others are sharing?

And at the very end of it all
you’ll have a face full of tears,
‘cause even a May Queen has to fall
within the changing of season in the years.
And you won’t even care
if it’s freedom or a new type of prison,
‘cause atleast someone will be there
to cry with, to hold you and listen.
For Midsommar.
It’s just a spring clean
for the May Queen
Emilia May 14
Don’t speak to me about her
Don’t talk to me about love
Don’t ask me to help plan your advances
Don’t ignore her blatant rejection
Don’t keep pursuing her

The more you speak her name
The more I want to wash out your mouth
The more you draw her face
The more I want to curse your hands

She told you no
And yet you call out her name
She ignored your call
And you passed her notes

A true love recognizes rejection
And doesn't keep pushing it

A true love respects boundaries
And doesn't keep getting close

And yet you still come to me
Talking of how to ask her
When in reality
She hates you more than you could know

Wake up
She doesn't see you as even a friend
She sees you as someone who is obsessed
She sees you as someone who hugs her without permission
She sees you as someone who draws her without consent
She sees you as someone who won't stop asking
No matter how much she keeps rejecting

Wake up
She doesn't love you
This is about a specific person and not in regards to all love in general. The subject of this poem is truly toxic and it is not targeted at love in general.
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