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Damian Murphy Feb 2018
A broken heart
I would welcome
If truth be told

Over a heart
That would become
Unfeeling... Cold.
Emily Miller Feb 2018
Under the cover of night,
A savagery blossoms in everyone,
Thriving in the privacy of darkened corners
And behind locked doors.
Inhibitions are lost,
And veils removed,
And the arching,
Wild things emerge.
There is one exception,
A predator that sinks into the shadows
And observes.
One who calculates every movement,
And plans,
How to create the perfect night.
As the moon inches closer to the horizon,
And the purple of the dawn
Begins to rise,
The predator manipulates her prey into the necessary positions,
Guiding them into the right movements,
To say the right things,
And rewarding,
For following her rules.
“Sometimes I wish that I were like the other
Animaux de noir
So that I could release myself,
Instead of cinch
And draw in
But meticulousness is all I know
And to design
Does not keep one warm.
I must plot every second,
Every reaction,
And list the rules for my prey.
Take away their sight
Their speech
Their movement,
And once they know the isolation of the sensation of touch
Without control,
Without authority,
They may earn them back,
One by one,
Until they can give me a definitive answer.
What is it that you want?
What do you need the most?
What do you want to do first?
And what will you do last?
They plead to give me what I already knew they would give,
To do the things that all before them have done,
Because they are puppets,
They’re easy,
They’re all ****** to be the same,
And I,
Night after night,
Will remain
Just as meticulous.”
YH Jan 2018
I am empty,
That was what I felt when I met you.

You cried for those who were miserable,
and I only thought it vain.
You fought so vigilantly for everything,
and I did the same,
with my own perspective.

You were a child with big dreams.
I was the adult with true realism.

But I was trying.
I only dreamt of a world with you.
I did not realize of the destruction I was capable of,
and I was not aware of the calamity that lived within me.

I had lost you,
and only did I know then
that I was never empty.

I was filled with the existence of you.

And now you are gone.

So tell me,
what am I now?

— Y.H.

lost love,
gentle fervor.
Is this what you have felt, all this while?
This sorrow.

before I knew,
I had turned things to the inevitable.

(c) Y.H.
Tomo Feb 2016
What are these things you feel?
These deep things
secret things
their worth unbeknownst to you.

I cannot grasp them;
The breadth and worth of them
the way you do.

I cannot feel true pain
nor relish in overflowing joy.
I am but a suit of armor,
polished and made to reflect
a light that does not belong to me.

Awake, awake, o sleeper!
Awake to the worth of the blessed curse
to laugh and cry
to dream and die
with the strum of a lyre and the stroke of the pen
and the thousand words from family and friends.

It is not merely a blessing, nor merely a curse
and believe me, it is far, far worse
to be disconnected from the majesty
of your bleeding heart.
Emotions are not something to despise.
Raquel Butler Feb 2016
My eyes watch the camera reel,
hollow and hawkish,
unfocused, unreal,
I try to grasp the meaning here,
sullen and sarcastic,
illusive, instilled,
Forgotten fragments that don't seem to meld,
jutting and jagged,
reclusive, revealed,
The lens of life,
false and fibbed,
lost, lurid,
paltry and pitiable.
Basically, how I feel on a normal day (disassociation!!).
Pauline Morris Feb 2016
The walking dead in the land of the living
Soulless eyes and hearts unforgiving
They seek to destroy
******* out your joy
Shatter your skull
Make your mind dull
Rip out your heart
That's just the start
Dead set eyes
You'll never relize
Till it's to late
Your heart they ate
Breathing remains
Nothing else the same
Now hollow of feeling
Soul was sent reeling
Some don't know
Out of them life flowed
We're all missing parts
Mostly the heart
Also gray matter
Out of mouths spatter
Growing in number
Pillage and plunder
All must be feed
Living in the land of the dead..
Frostbite you must face.
The icy cold you'll just have to embrace.

The truth hurts honey, It's cold and hard.
But you made your decision, you played your last card.
You can't just start crying now that your heart is scarred.

You're not the only one, **** it up and grow yourself a backbone.
You must now start paying for your past, for your sins you must atone.
(C) 2015
Touched or felt, could/would/should it be more real?
Another day, back drinking after work (again) in the same pub, alone this time, phone absorbing my attention alot but look up and look around at the shared space with other 'human animals' that i am experiencing in the pub, i dont feel anything 'to' them, while accepting illusions would it really make a difference if i could (willingly) touch or feel them? not sure where i am going with this tangent, enjoy.
Hannah Lorrelle Feb 2015
You lash out
you hurt those around you
You lash out
you shut out those around you
You lash out
you break the hearts of those around you
You lash out
you burden those around you
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