Queen of all the gods.
No one dare defy her word.
If by chance with her you are at odds
Prepare to feel the wrath you had incurred.

Ever faithful to one who is not
A polygamous husband to a monogamous wife
He might even leave her there to rot
Fortunately she is a goddess with eternal life.
FreeMind Jun 25
By the lonely river

I sat waiting for you.
Hoping that you would come back for me.
We would hold hands and talk about the future we never received.
Laugh about the endless memories that were never made.
But you were just like the long, cold river.
And I knew you would not stop for me.
So I sat aimlessly, alone

By the lonely river.
June 25, 2018
E li za Jun 7
Something more fearful than death I perceived
To be alone or abandoned I feel less unhinged
Castle built underground, vain to be seized
So all Kings will never find this Queen's lone field

Counting small staircase steps with her head down
Once glitter-blinded now a wrecked grace gown
Threw her name low, echoes of falling crown
Just a chess piece forgotten by the town

Something more dreadful than dying I suppose
To be found by love while lost in your course
Can't hold on your dreams when everything falls
To never be truly loved, curtains close

Forever in the dark her eyes are blind
To see the face of love and understand
That when the Heart argues, follow the Mind
Only love is right when both intertwined

Something more tragic than murder I ponder
Killed by silence while love screams however
Only eyes talk, waiting in the corner
Counting all these wasted time in number

Plunge your pride with the Sword of bravery
Run Great Knight, chase Queen's heart while it's timely
Conquer her castle of deep misery
Take her in your kingdom, captive yet free
Elliot Munro Jun 21
He wants you to know that he feels wasted.
The feeling of ash in his mouth, tasteless, 

but the numbness he feels isn’t painless, just nameless.
He thinks you think yourself blameless but his hatred, though baseless; shapeless and aimless, reckless,

is tenacious; holding him in stasis. Sleepless. Wakeless.

“You took all that I had and spread it out like a selection on a cheese board for all to see, but you… You kept my heart for yourself. And every now and again you return to it and watch, pressing down slowly upon the needles that hang there like some strange, disturbed voodoo doll. Well, when the needles have been pressed through, they’ll have nowhere left to go, and the holes that you leave, will heal over tenfold.”

  Waste not, want not.

  Want not, waste not.
                  Wasted not, wanted.
                  Wanted not, wasted.
                   Wasted no. Not wasted. He just feels it.
Robin Stacks Jun 19
I promised myself I'd call today
so that I could somehow convey
that I think of you an awful lot,
but I'm sorry. that's as far as I got.

It's happened before. Probably will again.
And each time I think I will call you when
my emotions are less raw and calm down a bit,
so you only hear Happy in the words I transmit.

But doubt flickers behind it all,
killing the idea and I don't call.
And always, I re-vow my intent
but I'm sure you thought me negligent.

How could you know though? Surprised, I cry.
All those indecisive moments have passed me by.
Those moments I chose silence were easier on my fears,
but my God, all those moments have turned into years!

So today, please don't be quite so inclined
To believe you were never on my mind.
You were-so much-but all the what-ifs
effectively induced my paralysis.
nihiliti Jun 17
I can call upon myself
but it's just a shell

bones break surface
offering quilltips
for forging poems
graduated cylinder-strained
diluted-air grade
not from concentrate


the mechanism's safe
as sealed secret tombs
are safe
an echo of disdain
for which I apologize

aquiver with paste-
like listenings
replicating histories
foreign and estranged
to taciturn gaze;
functional, but

shells function as people
but not as well
words wish but don't tell
what awaits ingrained
in bones broken
for blessing

pop! but distressing
echoing, echoing
pain empathetically parsed
but cannot relate
it's too late

I'm walking
but not talking
I'm listening
but not communicating
I'm dead
but not yet down

entombed in my head;
all that might have been
still can, but
a refusal to bend
is found
in my own pen

I've built a prison for myself
The writing's on the skin.
nihiliti Jun 17
gently beckon
the sweet words with
slivertongue fingers
slowly, steady
'til all is ready

placate them with lemonade
and roses for the sweetly grave
snipped especial so to save
their souls' decay
as it were
in olden day

gaily affair we
singing high and merr'ly
and twirl as tiny fairies
do in mid-summer eves

sprinkled loves
and lists
of hopes and kisses
and corpse-like tenderness
it sickens

so do the sweet words sour
and I alone this hour
do turn the tables paleweak
and weep them
so they sink
into my nothing
I keep
oh so dearly

how sincerely
I do try
to kill them softly
and dry the eyes
of mourners
far and wide
but alas
they always die

the end is my domain
Never was one for parties.
skyler Jun 16
nothing hurts more
than the sweet lies
of fake romances
and the wasted time
of too many undeserved chances

fuck you for lying about everything and wasting our time, I'm so glad I really meant that little to you
Sheherazad Jun 2
Time with you is never wasted
— like the hours buried in a good book,
or any story worth reading.
Love is lessons learned
and ours stream like a flowing brooke
That carries the minutes, unheeding

— @sheherazad.poetry
Time with you
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