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Hilla254 Jul 2018
At first,
Everything is bliss,
Smitten by love,
Happiness in each moment,
Addicted to all of The perfection's,
It's all dream come true,
Sweet words,
Beautiful promises,
Goal's, dream of his dreams,
His and her's,
Us.

Soon,
Imperfections arise,
Words become more benign,
Empty kept promises,
Missed call's early in The morning,
Unread text's late in The night,
Nasty argument's,
Crazy fight's,
Suspicion's,
Where you been?,
Just a friend?.

The bliss goes up in flames,
Anger, resentment roams The hearts,
It doesn't feel The same anymore,
Distance grows you apart,
Less frequent thought's,
Very Little love,
To right what's,
Left.
A platinum album for The broken hearts....
Elizabethanne Jul 2018
You will say thank you,
for loving me like a prayer.
Because you think the only way-
someone could love you was through divine intervention.
You, a girl who is not quite yet a women.
You still think you can make men out of monsters-
That you only must show love to get it in return.
You have not yet learned
That some monsters
Have given their souls a long time ago.
That the blood that they taste on their tongue
no longer tastes like rust,
It’s what keeps them alive.
And he keeps you because
You liken him to godly-
And he hasn’t felt that kind of reverence in a long time.


- he will will take the innocent you wear like a shield and break it down until there is nothing left, not even him.
fiachra breac Jun 2019
Exisiting in yet another space between
Two worlds, two lives.
Searching for some new meaning -
Or running from old demons?

Trapped in the divide, between
This and that,
anseo agus ansin.

Torn, tattered, stuck in an lár:
Teanga, life, baile, love.

Falling to pieces

Clawing at - clawing at what’s left,
What is left?

Left is the eight months since you did -
Not that that affects me anymore
(He lies to himself),
It’s just a marker, a buoy -
keeps me on course.

Struggling to see what's right,
What is right?

"If it feels good..."
I am uncertain - but I don't feel peace.  
Conflicted, definitely, and yet I don’t cease

Meddling in things I have no right to meddle in:
lives and loves and people -
Human beings.

Can you not see the damage this will cause?
Not you, but those who you misuse -
You are an evil, twisted little boy

Trapped in this space between
Right and wrong;
My twisted actions and my convicted mind;
Him and me.
wor(l)ds blur into each other

i detest what i am yet i do nothing to suppress it

_________________________________________

dated may 2018 // ó bealtaine 2018

strangely prophetic.
Q Jun 2018
Maybe it's where my head's at
But I've been interpreting things weird.
Things are not as they seem.
The thoughts reappear and disappear
Not at will
Not at will
What does that mean?

My head's not where it's at
It's drowning in strange thoughts
Drowning drowning
Draining
then down the rabbit hole
We fall
nihiliti Jun 2018
god's plucking petals from the sun again
and his sister's spinning something new;
beads and burs into silver strings
as only gods may do

the Great Aunt sings sordid smells
like scents spilled from the jewels
of little men of the stone tools
no magic for mortal fools, no

the Wizened Father flirts with Death
just to scorn his mother, the Lover
and she in turn ***** his skin off
just to feel it burn going down

the Kettle Kids quip about adult ****
that ought be kept out of the room
such nonsense makes goodly gods grim
and sentences us all to doom

rebellion!--cast down idols in scorn
lashes! many and long as millennia
spent idle in heaven's tomb
break the womb of spirit stew
that cesspool what begot these fools
burning stakes into hearts awake
with the fire of bothersome issues
destroyers and usurpers, curse them!
cut them down two sizes smeared
cream their corpses into copses
of deep and dark and buried fears
forget, forget, good children
about whatever you may hear
coming from the brimstone basement
we locked up just for you, dear

we teach our children unknowable fear
A dark star over a dark sea.
You were my dream,
But now you're my nightmare.
I had dream last night about him, I hope he doesn't turn into a nightmare.
Eric Angels Jan 2018
Most times I find myself thinking,  
About you, about me
About you, about us
I find myself thinking about whether
You ever think of me
I can't help but wonder sometimes
If you'd spend a moment
Thinking
  For that slight second,
Whether I ever think you, thinking of me, just like I've spent days and nights wondering.
I can blame it on the distance
Or your closeness to someone else, someone who's not me
I can blame it on the cold nights of winter
Or the warm embrace of the guy
who read your insecurities, through the palms of your hands
On your first handshake

I can blame it on your thoughts,
For you to ever think, that I'd think of you the same way you thought of me.
  I think you are the most beautiful woman...
   I think I hate the woman I love..
I think given another chance things would have been...
I think...
  I think...

Why can't I get you out of my head, out of my heart, for I think only then can my soul find peace.

   I think, as I fall asleep tonight,  
I'll think of you.
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