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Pauper of Prose Jul 2018
We attach ourselves to oblivious ones
Their carefree, we’re careful of acting dumb
They drum up excitement, we listen to their fun
And slowly or quickly we attach to their beings
Refine our perception to make them our dreams
Then reality hits and we never duck
Ruthlessly rattled we’re forced to wake up
Shredding our attachment, our well-being in flux
Then our ears disintegrate making deafness abrupt
Now careening and careless, our feelings corrupt
Learning a lesson that's too hard to instruct
The oblivious ones were us
For we attached to delusions that were destined to erupt
Snow-like, soot settles over fragments of a fallen heart
tatianah Jul 2018
Some people are used to feeling everything
Others feel nothing
I don't feel anything anymore
I feel like everyday I force myself just to smile
Sometime i find myself happy but it always fades
Everything fades
I wake up and find everything pointless
Music would be my escape
Now nothing works anymore
My life is pointless
Amanda Jun 2018
A lot of my favorite memories were made with you
In this old cozy cabin, most of them took place
Before I saw your other side, before I knew
Darkness hiding behind that handsome face.

The first day I walked through the door
Back when you were barely more than my friend
Tense attraction between us we couldn't ignore
We caved in though we were scared of how it might end.

The night we slept together for the first time in your bed
Felt like the thousandth time
We didn't have ***, just basked in the glow from words unsaid
That was the start of a steep and dangerous climb.

All the parties hosted together
We would laugh with our friends and drink
We didn't care if it was Monday or if there was bad weather
Would push it to the very brink.

Owning a puppy, losing him to death
I don't remember ever being held so near
In that car I cried so hard greif captured my breath
You didn't let go until the fall of every last tear.

I met your parents, I was nervous
Knew I would never be the girl of their dreams
Certain their opinions could not stir us
Still relieved to see approving gleams.

Out back, I'd let the dogs run around
Cannot imagine a place I'd call home more than here
I resist the urge to collapse to the ground
Give up, succumb to my deepest pressing fear.

To me this house will always be baunted, yet perfect
Do you come here and think about me?
It is worn furniture and bloodstained ceilings that make me recollect
The bittersweet shadows of your ghostly memory.
Home is where the heart is
Donna Jun 2018
Once upon time
there was a shampoo bottle
called Miss Strawberry

All day long she sat
on edge of bath just staring
at washed out tiles

Then one day when she
woke up she notice a white
bottle of shampoo

Hi there strawberry
I'm a conditioner , my
name is Coconut

Together they laughed
and made bubbles and even
had fun foam parties

They both loved water
Sometimes there slide down plug hole
Into a tunnel

Then they went splish splash
into the drain , but really
it's a water park

full of slides and fun
tunnels , lots of drain people
lived down there too , there

was a shaver called
Razors , he was like a dog
And barked all day long!!

And lots of hair dudes
and hair women , they carried
a net to catch hair

to make more hairy
people , they all supervised
the fun water park

Strawberry blew fun
bubbles whilst coconut made chilled out smoothie drinks

When the day came to
an end , strawberry went to sleep
feeling neatly sweet

And as for Mr
Coconut he hula danced
and sang lovely songs

to cheer up Edith
the tap , who cried every night
But by morning light

her tears had dried up :-))
I was inspired with little story I cleaned bathroom today and my imagination had fun and I just let it all go and it was fun x ;, hope u all well and thank u to those who sent me lovely messages I so appreciate very much <3
It's hard to stay away from hp as I love to write but this one got the better of me as it was fun fun fun  , have  lovely weekend all <3 x
elizabeth May 2018
rocks get worn
clothes become tired
people do as well
the skies go dark
the oceans toss and turn
in the night
just as i do
in my nightmare-filled slumber
******* is thrown away
fires die out
just as the burning passion
of love that others promise
flowers wilt with time
decomposed and shriveled
just as i have become
may 5, 2018
Once more a storm had quelled my sight,
As the ocean waves stirred violently,
Shouting into the fray, "Is tonight the night...
Or will they again drift back to me?"
And as darkness dimmed desirous light,
I cast my wishes out to sea.

Swelling waves ravage all in their wake,
As I hold on tight with spirits worn,
My withering sails, bound to break,
For merciless winds have left them torn.
Assured my faith would not forsake,
I treated the ails of any scorn,
And awaited shores these waters take,
To lift me from a life forlorn.

Through the fading storm light broke free,
And where it shone beyond the stern,
I saw it floating aimlessly
Amidst the settled waters churn.
I whispered to myself, "How could it be?"
With cause for real concern,
For drifting right on back to me,
Was all I'd hoped to not return.

I began to pray a prayer of plea,
"Be gone my wishes!" Unwilling to learn,
That this captive wish just could not flee,
Longer—must I sail to yearn.
I scooped it up out of the sea,
And sealed it tightly within an urn,
To let them fade to eternity,
As my weary soul was left to burn.
Alyssa Gaul Apr 2018
In the brash brassy light you stand,
shaky, on two feet
like a lethargic elephant

swaying---always swaying
and the light keeps blazing
and your head keeps spinning

You are beyond the point of exhaustion
there is nothing left
no trace of the self that was

If it is time to sleep
Sleep will not come
She is mad at you

you have refused her
for too long- an accident,
really- but normally

she welcomes you back
normally she is happy to
see you, and you float into her arms

not this time

so you keep swaying under that light
until crawling into bed
and the waiting begins

-------------------------------------

While the world sleeps
you turn and turn
worn from the hours
of thinking about anything
but sleep
the comforter brings no comfort
the pillow does not ease the strain
of your neck, the weight of
your head or
of that racing mind

the worst part about being awake
in the middle of the night
is that there is time
to think about all the thoughts
you pushed away before-
they creep up
and turn into waking nightmares
beastly what-ifs and why-didn’t-I’s

the insomniac is most insecure
with nothing to do

during the day you may
busy your tired body with tasks
ignoring the ache of the eyelids,
the pounding of the head

but at night you cannot
make yourself move
a house is sleeping
the world is sleeping
and you have to pretend
that you are as well

so you stare up at the ceiling
(you have memorized the cracks)
or you count and count sheep
(you have reached 100 and back)
and it’s all so pointless
don’t you see?

The Insomniac is fighting a battle
that never ends

a battle that makes you weaker everyday

how long till your body gives out
and will not fight
anymore?
KM Hanslik Apr 2018
So much can happen under the guise of
"fate".
I tie my heartstrings up like ribbons and
cut them lose one-by-one, hoping
they'll find a good home somewhere, hoping
I'll learn to not care where the pieces fall.

So much can happen under the guise of
"love".
I tell you tender things and you tell me I make the mornings lighter
but we all fall prey to our own demons sometimes,
and I'm not sure if mine ever really go away;
there used to be a fine line between
doing something because I want to
and doing something because I have to.
I used to walk that line every day, until
some of the ribbons began to break and I couldn't live with knowing
that I was breaking everyone else too.
Now when my feet start sliding from under me, I
call you and ask how you're doing, and you tell me that it's okay
now when I begin to question everything again, I try to stitch the pieces together in hopes
that it will be enough of something to hold me.
To hold us.
It's a bit tattered, but I think that it will be
enough.
Steve Page Mar 2018
It's just a sleeve.
It's only a glove with loose threads
and small but growing holes
that let in the cold and allow
a glimpse of a frayed soul,
revealing the human that lies within
after all.
Reading Altered Carbon by Richard Morgan.  Better than Netflix.
Eternal Dreams Mar 2018
Why do I always feel this way
I live this dreaded life everyday
Waking up to my soul crying
I just tired of feeling like dying

One...two...three...four
I didn't even get one score
I did everything I thought was right
Yet everything was destroyed cuz of the fright

You see me and I see you
You moved places so I flew
Showing my love that was free
And there you go trying to flee

I just want to know why I'm neglected
I asked you and You made me feel rejected
I hate the feeling  I give my all and don't receive any
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