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haley Feb 2018
I can hear him knocking at the door
I feel the rhythm of the beating in my chest and head.

It overwhelms me, bleeding down into my core,
my heartstrings hanging by a single thread.

I cannot handle your lingering presence anymore.

I am exhausted from a constant state of dread;
an endless game of tug of war
contemplating all of the things I’ve left unsaid.

Compiling a collection of unfinished memoirs
abandoned and stranded in my mind instead.

He is here, choosing which wounds to reopen into deeper sores
I lay awaiting the temporary passage of this bloodshed.
Kartikeya Jain Feb 2018
"Even in your most
vulnerable moments,
do what your heart wants,
go where the heart goes."
Kartikeya Jain Feb 2018
"And yet in our
most vulnerable moments
we take a dive
in the same ocean
that once drowned us."
amber Feb 2018
My stomach is filled with poison.
Eating away at the lining,
I want nothing more,
Than to throw it all up:
The discomfort,
Resentment,
Agony.

Instead,
It steadily brews,
Driving me insane,
Without reprieve,
Putting me,
In tormenting pain.
Hide Feb 2018
Have you ever not realised something about yourself,
until someone else pointed it out,
and then it's all you can see?
It used to happen all the time-
but back then he pointed out the bad,
so often and so forcefully
that the good started to slip away-
I could not see it anymore,
I could not feel it.
And then you came along,
and even though I thought there was nothing left-
you saw me.
And you not only saw me- you pointed it out.
You saw me before I saw myself.
You cleared my blur,
and now it's all I can see.
You raised me up only to where I was meant to be,
you never put me on a pedestal, you simply put me back,
to where my bar was set to be,
and taught me to stand there with pride.
And you might not think you're a hero,
but I think you have superpowers.
Brittney T Feb 2018
You stay honest and quiet in these soft moments with me,
But walls go up when it rains too hard.

Soft moments are hidden,
they must be lived in fear. By cowards.

No. They are the bravest moments we have.
Vulnerability is forged here. But here it could be broken.

One of the first looked soft, but was prickly to touch.
He must have been an illusionist,
My dandelion was a small cactus.
What I know now, I don't regret learning the hard way.

Be vulnerable anyway. And learn softness when it rains.
Intimacy through truth will free us
from a hard world.
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