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Matthew Sabella Jun 2021
It slowly continues to argue with me day in and day out.
Like a creep following in the shadows,
it decides to elude me no matter how I feel.

As the mandolin plays its sad tune,
and the guitar only remembers the sound of minor chords,
the melancholy erodes the wall that has protected the people since birth.

Taking its time to analyze and devise,
making plans and biding its time.
The edge defines the lie that it says is inside.

Maybe the next ship will take me along.
Maybe it will sail farther away than the last one.
Maybe its anchor will drop on more pleasant shores.

As I scream at the city that has been my home for so long,
As I stare into its ugly face,
I no longer know which way to go.

Do I go to the harbor and board the boat?
Do I search for my creeper in the alleys and roads?
Or do I stay where I am and take heart to the fact that I am still taking breath?

Why are you staying by my side?
You should go.
Why are you still waiting with me in line?
Don't you have better places to be?

When the night is angry and the clouds block out the moon,
I wonder if it will find me?
When the weather is sour and the day looks like the night,
I wonder if it will find me?

Anyway, I choose you, stay by my side.
Any path I take you have loved me despite the tide.
Any time I wept you were there with me and you cried.

Why do you stay when I am in the fray,
When my anxiety shoots you like a gun,
or when my anger manifests and stabs you like a knife?

I look over my shoulder and the creeper is there.
Always ten paces behind no matter which way I twist and I turn.

I look over my shoulder and I see you coming up beside.
You're reaching for my hand and telling me to trust.

I close my eyes and let you guide me to where I should go.
I release any semblance of control.

The sun finally breaks the clouds and the creeper steps aside.
Still, ten paces behind but comfort are by my side.
The sun brightens my face and I begin to cry.
For the night was long and the day has finally come.

The day is finally the day,
and I can see the bay.
The boat is right where I left it.
I look to you and you say it's okay.
So we take our steps and board the boat looking for better shores where we can play.
honeyed Jun 2021
i really want you to trust me, but i don't think you ever will.
i really want you to love me, but i don' think you can.
you go through the motions
i see it
it's hollow
you know what to do, but you don't feel it
i don't feel it
mark soltero Jun 2021
trust is something sharp to hold
for someone important
in a perfect world we'd never bleed over one another
chrome blades dig into each person
who lost grip with their loved one
in a perfect world trust would be dull
significance is in the blade
filled inside of the atoms
are the affections, promises and lust we carry
a perfect world is plastic
empty atoms
hollow and dead on the inside contain nothing
I rather take the blade than poison myself
SiouxF Jun 2021
The unknown
Is worse
Than reality.

So embrace the fear,
Throw caution to the winds,
Have courage,
Faith and
Trust,
Then set sail in the direction of your fear,
For that...
Is where your destiny awaits!
Having realised an earlier poem of mine, Fear II, had the complete opposite meaning of what I intended, I was inspired to pen the above.
Maria Hernandez Jun 2021
A conjunction of two words,
each separately has its own meaning.

The soul is the immaterial part
of what makes us human.
The  intellectual energy that makes
one immortal.

A mate is one of a kind.
A companion.

So how does one know if you have
truly found your soulmate?
Brumous Jun 2021
I'm not selfish!
You haven't experienced the weight and woe
that accompany me with each tick of the clock;

I was--no;
I always disapproved of the things I've done,
I've regretted trusting with such nativity,
I always offered too much

I wanted to be accepted,
so I did what I thought I should do.
I tried changing myself,
I attempted to be like them, and
to somehow be similar.

It was of pure envy,
I wanted to be like them
Attractive, and having
countless friends

I wanted and needed;
And, instead of being envious,
I was greedy or maybe both;

I kept on suppressing my own emotions,
I push back the tears before they even form.
I would look unpleasant if I allow them to fall.

With an effort to perfect myself,
I desperately tried to improve with
the talent that I possess.
I was frustrated
each time it looked--so horrible.

Yet, blinded by my own perfectionism,
I overlooked the progress made.

"What a fool,"
"I can't seem to cry even if I want to,"
-pt. 1
Melody Mann Jun 2021
Fickle to the ears and solemn to the soul is the truth she unfolds,
A tedious maze of reckoning lies with every answer she shares,
A woman of wonder.
Melody Mann Jun 2021
Confide in me she whispers,
Peeling away each layer that traps his essence,
Share your devious truths that ache to surface,
Confide in me,
Trusting her gestures he dismantles his barriers,
Flooding her refuge with stories untold,
He confides in her solitude.
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