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Bestie:I loved you more than she ever could.I cared for you more than she ever did.I priortised you more than anyone in my life.Yet You chose her over me everytime.Why? why?Do you Ignore me the same way she ignored you?
Me:Dear bestie,its not like i am ignoring you the same way she did, I can never let her place be filled by someone else.I loved her and i always will Love her the way she deserves to be whether or not she loves me back.
A heartful converations of a withered soul
Marianna Aug 2018
catastrophe
                      and misery
a pure soul shrouded in secrecy mystery
more unexplored than vast cosmic voids
half a lover
                     half a paranoid
maxine May 2017
i liked the way you made me feel
until you didn't make me feel that way anymore
so i let you go
but was that the right thing to do?
i have a void, that i've been trying to fill
ever so carelessly
drugs, ***, rock'n'roll
i've lost control
hell, i don't want to be in control
i want others to control me
i want someone to constantly be there and reassure me
but everyone leaves or i push them away
and i'm left with the biggest hole of agony inside
that can never be filled...
love is conditional.
love is stupid and blind and erratic and irrational.
love cares for no one.
so maybe it's not love i'm looking for?
maybe it's to erase the past
but time is a cruel thief.
time is selfish and careless.
and we waste him so he wastes us.
i am wasted.
no, not drunk.
but rather a ship, wasted at sea.
stuck in the sand of the past.
with this hole of agony... filling up with unwanted things.
it has been much too long my friend. i've strayed too far from my roots and now i'm back to hopefully use my love for poetry to guide me into the light i want to be under. not one of church, or state. but my light... i want to create my light.
anyhow, voids pt. 1 was written back in October of 2015, from a younger version of me... writing about others having voids, and now i can talk from self-experience. even though i find that extremely tragic... i hope to flourish from the pain i'm currently enduring. and i'm hoping poetry is the first step into constructively filling my void.
Hannah Payne Dec 2016
Echo, cricket,
Thump, stump.
The very loud things
Galloping through the silence.
The creaking of stairs like the breaking of bones
That snapped tin cap,
Clinging onto the prophesied labor of your last breath,
Oscillating through your liquefied ontology.
Ethanol overflown and embodied.

Cricket cricket,
The underlying intrinsic.
The empty tone of a distant voice.
The spaces of letters and words so magnified
So wide,
Expanding like an unstoppable void.
Oh my,
Here it comes,
Shadowed by your hissing tongue.
You are glittered,
Pinnacle bitter.
Cloaked in pure white.
Not a thread of disguise.
Twinkle, twinkle,
Buggy, rugged eye.
Those razor touched lines,
Translucent and caressed,
Reminiscent and enmeshed,
Like faded pale stripes,
Hugging the armor of canvas flesh.
Walking among these thin lines,
Head down, musky powdered stench,
Awaiting the inevitable rise and fall.
Of the intangible crux of a hollow memory,
Woven inside the synthetic fabric of the undelivered.
Oceanic cold shiver,
Piercing through our empty, untethered souls.
SJ Sullivan Jan 2016
We all sat and pondered over the strange
phenomena of the world we live in,
like the fact that the moon sleeps upon
the surface of the earth each night,
but never returns to the same dwelling twice.

We asked the stars why they continue
to shine, even years after they've died,
and we wait in silence for their coveted
response, only to be let down once again.

What is a conversation without listening,
but waiting in line for your time to talk,
only to an audience involved in their next
comment. Leaving messages.

You only call me when it's raining out.
And I only answer when it's 2am.
And it's all good and fine in day dreams,
because we know the right things to say
and the right ways to respond, when
it's all in our heads.

But that's not how the world works,
so we stub on tongues on thoughtless
comments, as we fill the voids around us
with butchered "I love yous" and cold nights
back to back.
Inspired by U by Gnash
A hand springs forth
from the dredges of the pit.
A hand failing to knowledge its worth
with a will to deny it.
The blinding light of things to come
bright in its possibility
Chemical baths render sludge undone
clearing the way for eyes to see.
The weight of the land has tipped the scales
orbiting in its gravity
Quickening the mind that hails
and objects the dark's depravity.
Realize the void is important
yet small in its relevance
A calmness to lay dormant
for freedom is the recompense.  
The stranglehold on the soul
will be released only when
you forgive yourself
for not being able to fill the hole.
Rachel Jordan Mar 2014
The sun will beat down on your down casted eyes,
Your shadow will stretch in front of you, begging for separation from what you are becoming.

You will fall in love and he will walk with you on cigarette-covered streets. Tripping on uneven sidewalks and petting stray cats.

He will grow apart from you, like your shadow does when the sun sets.

Later, he will leave and you will be A walking hole with arms and legs, like a hollow tree,
In the park the children play around you but never questions how the hole got there, it is now filled with old, bird’s nests and people’s forgotten garbage, where the others have etched their lover’s name with a promise that is too hard too keep.
You will collect it all much like how his words collected in your mouth, and his shoes smelt up the room.

you will no longer wander with a beating heart.

— The End —