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aa Dec 2017
I was at a place where sadness became comfort. Sadness became the cozy home I never had. A place where I belong - a home that welcomed and accepted me. It was where I came back to at the end of the day. It was the only thing that waited for me and the only thing that wanted me. These days whenever I'm near the edge - I can hear them calling me. Malevolent croonings telling me to come back home.
"I wanna let go but there's comfort in the panic."
Barker Sep 2017
When you read these words that I write
You are literally entering my mind
The thoughts that I go through
The things that I experience
The feelings that I felt
Welcome to my life
(c)ibarker
-df Sep 2017
you used to call me every morning,
but you've stopped.
...
now, every morning, i roll over
with your arms wrapped around me
welcoming me home.

{d.f.|08/01/17}
Esther Jul 2017
To all my demons:
Hello and welcome – back.
My chest is open for your return,
Pining for the familiar pressure
Of your phantom limbs pressed against my ribs
And slowing the blood flow to my heart.
I wonder, has your presence really lessened me?
Has your presence really ruined me?
Because the lower the blood pressure,
The harder it is to gather up
The courage, the steadiness, the willingness
To act on your orders.

To all my demons:
Hello and how are you – today?
I can’t say I don’t think about your well-being
The moment I wake from the loneliness,
Thinking maybe I’ll never get an answer
If you ever stay away.
They say you’re never really fulfilled,
Until you wish upon your enemies
The same happiness you want for yourself;
And here I am in this pit you’ve dug for me,
Floating on my tears,
Hoping in silence for your own freedom - from me.
My own pruning hands will hold the door shut
As I say this,
Hoping you continue to suffocate us both,
Gracing me with your reliable company – daily.
Richard Jul 2017
Just like a morning star,
like a beam of light waking you up,
I came in here, haven't said you sup,
I'm in awe how glorious you are.

Boredom is hidden in a routine
When there is nothing new,
Getting killed by time's queue
Slave of this hell for a long time you have been.

There's nothing special on a little rose,
Even though it may shine the dark face bright
So wee me trying to grow up,
Struggle to lift corners of your mouth.

So as the sun on the sky,
as the moon in the night
as they share the sky,
to share some of mine would be right.

All the people have to sleep,
And the need is soo deep,
They must follow the surrounding,
and darker it is getting,
the stronger is the feeling.
There is nothing funny about me,
So follow me, you will fall asleep.

It's well-known feeling,
Lying in a lonely bed,
without love, a mind is soo distracted
Imagine me,
with the head under the pillow,
with the tear on my cheek, ruined.
Give me some like or love,
No more sadness, blessed I will be.

Fun and peace.
It's not desperate request (maybe), I just want to introduce myself a little bit and make a fun. Yeah and its just a quick poem, sooo.
CautiousRain Jul 2017
Go ahead and kiss me,
Pull me close,
Interlock our fingers,
Become my prose.
Funny how I write this even though I feel otherwise.
Xavier Arnold Jun 2017
You saw me
What the hell was up with that
That feeling in my stomach
I told my dad I'd hit the sack
But I got locked on my bed
Painted my arm black
Because it covers red
See being bored is just my knack

Stereotypical, I know
See I had nowhere else to go
So I sat there and wrote
Row after row
A compilation of mental blows
See I never told her
But finally she knows

They tell me to begin again
To win again
But I'm here to show these kids
That breaking rules is ******* cool again
We're hooligans
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