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Cecil Miller Jul 30
All the seconds that we've wasted
Looking at each other's faces,
Then one day we said, "Hello."
Never close the curtain on this show.

We made friends, then we made love.
We made war, you were above.
You said you were letting go.
You closed the curtain on this show.

The glistening in your corner eye
Becomes a tear that you cry.
I ask you why you have to go.
You close the curtain on this show.

Wall-to-wall the city beats
With hearts and footfalls on the streets.
I'm alone now, they all know.
You've closed the curtain on this show.

Like veins in arms, the avenues
Are winding anywhere, but you.
I wander with no place to go.
You've closed the curtain on this show.

Maybe someday I'll be seen,
Floating stillness in the stream.
Tangled in a bed of stone,
Having closed the curtain on this show.
This isn't about me
Jay M Oct 2021
Rise and fall
Wills your voice
Rise and fall
Fall upon my desperate ears
Coursing are my deepest fears
Pouring out through your veins
Making me tremble
And cry
Until my tears are beyond dry
Canyons bore into skin
Of unfathomable pain

- Jay M
October 7th, 2021
Had horrible scenarios playing through my head yesterday morning...
I'm okay now, but it was rather intense.
Take my heart
Cardium carpal
Impossible to hold in both hands
In every glorious piece
Valve, ventricle, artery
Pulsing, pulsing — but no blood
Not pink, not red but grey,
Grey matter, but no matter

Take care not to lack a hole by
Ebon ivory of your skeletal hands,
Pulsing, pulsing — but no blood
Only bone grasping endocrine glands
Blood eagled atrium across your palms
Venae cavae hollowed hands.
There are so many lilies in my brain,
spreading the petals of the pain,
full of the fragrance of regret,
they are too hard to forget,
thrive and flow fast through the veins.
Indonesia, 22nd September 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho
LC Jul 2021
my thought fibers
push past the clutter,
swirling around until
my brain twists into knots
and my heart follows suit,
its veins tangling like spider webs
until my feet get swept off the ground
and my body gets ****** into the black hole.
lua May 2021
Crashing waves against the crunch of sand
Touches my feet
Sinking into the softness beneath me
As the water stains my toes blue
And paints goosebumps
Paints chills
Across my legs
Up to my stomach
Full of the same crashing waves
Those which curl
And spin in whirlpools
Up to my chest
Into my lungs full of seasalt
And the bitterness of the morning sun
Down every branching vein
That reminds me of mangrove roots
Yet pale and blue
So small and delicate
It reaches my own shaking fingers
And to the rosiness of my cheeks
All I hear is the soft ringing of windchimes in my ears
And the splash that dissipates into nothing but tiny droplets
Maybe that’s what keeps me awake at night.
Raven Feels Apr 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, not for them for you:]


in your own skin they say

in your own way they say

in your presence they say

but to me in my feels not the exact same

in the self satisfaction I see it

a smile your heart only can beat it

magic for the veins to bleed it

not for others to tolerate it

not for the others to be it nor name it


                                                            ­                  ------ravenfeels
LC Apr 2021
it climbs up their thin veins,
worming its way under their skin,
until it digs into their vulnerable minds,
controlling them from the inside out,
until they twist the life out of others.
the prey become the predators.
#escapril day 17!
Payton Feb 2021
There is a reason water is clear, and blood is crimson,                                                                                                             for it would be far too painful to try and see the truth in your veins.
This isn't really a poem but rather a lovely thought. It was written in 2016.
Payton Feb 2021
You were a drug to me, babe.
      You weren't the medicinal kind either.
                                          You weren't just a painkiller.
You weren't an antidepressant.
                                                     You weren't a Xanax.
                                                        You weren't ******.
You weren't even the good kind of drug.

                    You weren't ****** or **** or ecstasy.
You were the kind of drug that
                                           messed around with my heart and left my brain feeling clouded.
You were the kind of drug that left me confused and
                                                                               feeling worse than before I took you.
But I did.
Again and
again.
I told myself I would
break this vicious cycle of unscrewing your cap and
                                                                   hating myself for it afterwards.
That I wouldn't draw back the plunger and
                                                          force you into my veins anymore.
But I didn't.
Again and
again.

I told myself you
                                                would be the death of me.

Every high you gave me left me feeling
                                                                          lost in the clouds.

I might as well have been
                                    six feet deep.
This poem was written in 2016.
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