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Odd Odyssey Poet Mar 2022
Now your eyes,
are pretty as the ocean, and crying whenever
it makes you feel blue. A sad tragedy, something I
myself can be too.

Uttering no words,
but all to trying to speak our very hearts.
And what does it say; what all does it bare?
The hurts of passion; so bitter sweet of pain,
all with your heart in hand. All the emotions you
hold onto, dare I say: 'you hold onto a tragic past love?'

It was painted with faith;
but not of the colours it wants be,
It was painted with love;
but as for now, how much of it can I see?
All of the eyes stories I've seen, but of their mouths
that won't tell. Casting charms of luck; but the words
to their love they even can't spell.

The enchantment all of one's former delights,
no otherwise from others in your life. I've warned you
not to trick my heart. I don't do well with any kind of magic.
But oh how I'm in love with being so tragic.

Tragically in love with you.
The tragedy of us both being so tragic in our past loves.
We're the tragedy to love.
Stephanie Davis Oct 2020
I didn’t know how much I would need you
I didn’t know how much I would miss you
I didn’t know how much anything would ever make sense again
But here I sit, alone, at a table with tears rolling down my face
Remembering…. Remembering everything
Remembering the days we spent together
Remembering the nights I’d sit up alone
To wake up every single day, and these memories go to the unknown
I can feel you all around me, no matter the weather
I remember you, I remember us, I remember everything
I didn’t know that I would grow up and still need you
I didn’t know that I would grow up and still miss you
I didn’t know that I would grow up and still nothing would make sense
You gave me life, you gave me memories, you gave me your warm embrace
I hope when you left you found peace and you found grace
As I sit here and write this poem, if you’d call it that
The tears flow silently down my face.. The face that you once held in your hands
The face that you once gave strict demands
The face that longs for you every day since you’ve been gone
I’m still sitting here, remembering, remembering everything
Remembering the days we spent together
Remembering the nights we’d talk together
Remembering the childhood you helped make pure
Remembering the woman who you wanted me to be
I think it’s time, that I tell myself it’s okay, to set you free
This is NOT goodbye, but until we see each other again.
I love you, forever and always, gone, but never forgotten.


Stephanie Davis
10/23/20
For everyone I've ever lost and never got to say goodbye too. or truly could let them go.
Lianna Walters May 2016
Rattling of a pill bottle fill the silence
And I don't realize how desperately
I long for anything but the silence
Until it's gone.

What is wrong with me?
I'm holding on to how things used to be
Because letting go has never been my thing
But I think it's time,
And I'm scared
Letting go means finding more to fill that,
Silence
And I'm not sure I can.
I'm not sure I can...
What is wrong with me?

Barely a week clean
And I'm already craving
When can I stop this **** self hatred,
And learn to love myself?
As opposed to harming myself.
What is wrong with me?

Why do I always jump to feelings of anger, sadness, and irritability?
Why do I long for physical pain so intensely?
Why do my thoughts of self loathing present so vividly?
What is wrong with me?

I'm a tragedy, really.
A piece of artwork, pulled apart at the seams
A kind heart that's torn up, scratched and bleeding
But you could never tell, for looks are deceiving
What is wrong with me?

I have help.
I know people care.
But the last person also told me they'd always be there,
And where the **** are they now, definitely not here
And I know not everyone's the same,
But it's one of my biggest fears
What is wrong with me?

I long for the day
Tears spill from my eyes
My heart's ripped into pieces, and I'm feeling betrayed
But the last thing I wanna do is reach for the blade
Because I'll be stronger than that.

But letting go has never been my thing.
So I'm stuck holding on to how I used to think


*What the hell is wrong with me?
It's been a while since I've written anything. I'm glad I got all that off my chest.
Neex Apr 2015
He said to me with swollen eyes,
"Heaven is better than this,
  So if there is no purpose for my living,
  Why delay my rapture. I love you,
  But I'm only going to Hurt you if I stay."

A peck on my lips,
"Go, run home!"
And he ran,
I yelled and cried,
He ran and ran,
I stood, so scared,
With tears in my eyes,
Gun shots in the air.

No one could help him.
"It wouldn't be suicide,"
The words he said echoed in my head,
"I'm just going to be in the wrong place,
At the right time."

I ran and ran,
Cried and cried,
I couldn't watch,
It was a blood bath,
A riot.

I ran home,
Ran and ran;
But home was where he was,
And I didn't know where that was.

I cried and cried,
And in that moment I was certain,
*My soul had died.
I don't even know where this came from, but I feel it, the pain, the reality.
Jack Thompson Mar 2015
Time between us long and finite.
As if I were keeping track.
A gold coin I'm due.
As I've been sober from you.
Your image pixelated and blurry.
Only a ripple you now are stirring.
What it is to feel your embrace.
And how it was to kiss your face.
Slowly I will forget.
The next one I will protect.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015

— The End —