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#clouded
My dearest confidante, now just a ghost, A shattered mirror of the memories we host. A silent phone, a number I can't call, A final curtain is closing on it all. The echo of your laughter haunts the air, A bitter pill of what we used to share. The promises we whispered to the stars, Now stand as monuments to hidden scars. I trace the lines of what we used to be, A fading mural of your face and me. Each shared secret, now a heavy stone, Weighed down by a silence I have known. A tapestry of trust, now torn and frayed, The colors of our bond began to fade. I watch as strangers fill the space you left, A hollow vessel, utterly bereft. For in this void, a bitter truth takes root, A love without a single, tender shoot. The comfort of your voice, a distant chime, A memory suspended out of time. A fractured compass, spinning in the night, I stumble onward, grasping for the light. The path we walked, a road I now avoid, A future we had promised, now destroyed. So here I stand, upon this barren ground, Where all our hopeful, tender words once sound. A silent prayer for what we couldn't save, A lonely vigil at a friendship's grave. In this pain, a final lesson lies, That even stars can fall from clouded skies. © Michael Powers (STYXX ON FIRE)
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Jan 19
Jan 19, 2026 at 10:13 AM UTC
Final Curtain Call....
Persons who, not agreeing with you, Will tell you, your perspective is wrong. That lived experience, Has clouded your lense of reality. But they offer no real difference Nothing so substantive As to say, Mine is fixed And based in a place Of true, unbiased rationality.
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Jul 10, 2023
Jul 10, 2023 at 11:31 AM UTC
Onyx and Alabaster
You were a drug to me, babe. You weren't the medicinal kind either. You weren't just a painkiller. You weren't an antidepressant. You weren't a Xanax. You weren't ****** You weren't even the good kind of drug. You weren't ****** or **** or ecstasy. You were the kind of drug that messed around with my heart and left my brain feeling clouded. You were the kind of drug that left me confused and feeling worse than before I took you. But I did. Again and again. I told myself I would break this vicious cycle of unscrewing your cap and hating myself for it afterwards. That I wouldn't draw back the plunger and force you into my veins anymore. But I didn't. Again and again. I told myself you would be the death of me. Every high you gave me left me feeling lost in the clouds. I might as well have been six feet deep.
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Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 11:14 PM UTC
Clouded
Today my mind is clouded and my heart is heavy Although even with all this weight I carry from my thoughts to my feelings My body feels as though I am floating between the earth an the sky with nowhere to go
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Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 7:12 PM UTC
Lost Again
These clouded heart strings Cannot hum through air most faint When in breathing out
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Jul 16, 2020
Jul 16, 2020 at 1:21 PM UTC
Strumming Clouded Heart (A Haiku)
So I been thinking about my next Move and how to make it right, it’s becoming a bit of a sore eye but I’ll never lose sight. at the end of the day all I got is myself, I will continue to grow without ur help. I am reaching for a way out but I’ve been moving in circles, wondering if it was that blue dream or ***** purple, that day was when my vision got so clouded rumor has it at least that’s how it started. I been thinking about my next Move and how to make it right, it’s becoming a bit of a sore eye but I’ll never lose sight.
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Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 11:36 AM UTC
Next move
Woven in the wind was the tissue thin veils               of wings that tore upon the heavens,                                                 in subtle breathes. Subtle mirages were spread around there                                   worldly travels.               Never seeing what was there. Just a shimmer of  rainbow shades.                 A kaleidoscope of reflection,      seeing shades shimmer delicately. But when a raindrop never descended,                     and in the collective desert                     of visual obscurity were they vulnerable. Play things for the feral masters of pink flesh                 did they jump feverishly.    But on human eyes did the mirage fulfil.                    a fallen wing had fell. And with a plastic tomb were they dispatched.                  an offering of great pleasure. But t human cognitive visuals a fluorescent bird                                                               feathers clawed without a hue of intention only the fever of the hunt. Man only saw a incandescent mirage,                        when rain fell.                        but beneath this camouflage                 were wings that flustered the seasons                                          pleasures on mans world.
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Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 7:33 PM UTC
When Shimmers Were More
Woven in the wind was the tissue thin veils               of wings that tore upon the heavens,                                                 in subtle breathes. Subtle mirages were spread around there                                   worldly travels.               Never seeing what was there. Just a shimmer of  rainbow shades.                 A kaleidoscope of reflection,      seeing shades shimmer delicately. But when a raindrop never descended,                     and in the collective desert                     of visual obscurity were they vulnerable. Play things for the feral masters of pink flesh                 did they jump feverishly.    But on human eyes did the mirage fulfil.                    a fallen wing had fell. And with a plastic tomb were they dispatched.                  an offering of great pleasure. But t human cognitive visuals a fluorescent bird                                                               feathers clawed without a hue of intention only the fever of the hunt. Man only saw a incandescent mirage,                        when rain fell.                        but beneath this camouflage                 were wings that flustered the seasons                                          pleasures on mans world.
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26
Who decides what’s right and what’s wrong? How do we distinguish what to do in a tough situation? Morality? Logic? Heart? Brain? Overwhelmed as our brain floods with water, Mixing the black and white Into a gray, We can’t find the answer Because there simply is no answer. Everything is just gray. We blindly choose, Hoping for the best, But little to our knowledge, Based of this choice A ripple begins, And slowly spreads through the pond of our life, Simply growing larger And larger Spreading further And further, An unstoppable force, Continually altering, more and more Until the whole pond becomes Gray.
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Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 2:32 PM UTC
Gray
I have to remember. I have to remember this. for as long as I can. for forever. I have to.   I cant let this go.   I cant let this feeling                     go.
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 5:21 PM UTC
The Walk (2)
To death in love! The eye of ones heart closes for their beloved, their most precious treasure of them all clouded by emotions stored for them deep within Unanswered love leads to a stinging mind of the subscocious, caught and rose by a burning ember of feelings, turning into an inferno, Blinded by it, they will not acknowledge the falsities of their partner, nor their mistakes or even their treaciousness, as for them he is perfect, conciously imaged as the ideal and the best they ever had, But no! God forbids, they learn about the art of blinding love while they sink to the bottom of a sea of passion and affection, in a last remote of a courtain call to simple yet manifest carelessness, Small lies lead to grand falsities overlooked by a noncaring closed eye Rekindled in a dream they rather follow their instincs than the truth, Illusions cast by embers of love deep within the unconcious, like a courtain to be blocked from all light, holding on to dear of what is loved and cherished, praised and adored, an emotion leading stray, The philosophy of a hated person, would be to never close the open eye of ones heart, so you fall not too hard when you begin to love, But when all falls apart, realisation is like the thorns of countless roses It is the heart sign of selfless love. ~ Umi
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Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 8:52 AM UTC
Untitled
my memories of you are cumulonimbus i want to break the sky open and make it sink into the ground because all i ever see is your face in the clouds
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Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
chasing clouds
I wrote an ocean onto that paper Ink stirred with salt It was spilling out of me I was overflowing with thoughts I wrote an ocean onto that paper Of anything and everything That clouded my eyes Till nothing harmful was present I wrote an ocean onto that paper
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
I Wrote an Ocean onto that Paper
Channels Situated where they are Give way from each side In the shell of a deep well Telling that this is nobody's land But I don't care I'm dancing towards her The most riveting wells Lie between burnt auburn shells I'm far away from the outside But I'm feeling safe and sound With each step ensuring The final point of no return Lost, but surely found
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Jan 29, 2018
Jan 29, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
Isle
Get out of my headspace ... It's too clouded. I'm no longer able to decipher the view outside , my eyes are no longer a window, the brain just a sham of the thoughts once creatively flowed. A raging storm within. How long will this go on? days ? weeks? months? years? or perhaps maybe even an eternity? It's a blizzard unfit for humanity , my deepest innermost thoughts are frozen solid , no longer spirits they once were, you need to leave. This headspace of mine cannot bare it any longer. It may spread to my body. The cold is numbing, dehabiliting to the mind. Imagine what it could do to my body, halt all movement, solidify the blood in every vain, creating a state of frozen paralysis. The only outcome is death. Please leave my headspace. You are no longer welcome. These chills down my spine are a foreshadowing of the destruction to come to my temple.
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Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 7:42 AM UTC
Headspace
I often live by the rules of it's okay I'll get through this. if this way doesn't work, there's plenty more. i should be calm, shouldn't i? often i have to remind myself the what ifs of life; anchored to the ground as if I've been drowning for a while, or head's in the cloud, light- its a part of the process, right? the part where im soiled with combat? the part where my body will be devoured til i am one with my heart and my mind, and i am the seed that will break through the surface; gasping for air, longing for the rain to wash my sins and the light that will guide me to me;- my subconscious is always at war, and my body is a battlefield, and i can never seem to make peace with it.
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May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 5:44 AM UTC
A Constant Square One
The mind, Is a clouded thing, With to much happening. One stops to take a break, Then smoke rolls in and takes control. Tired souls; Now are full of energy and seem a knew, They are no longer recognized by their loved ones. Lost in a smoke filled mind. There is no longer a clear mind, Brilliant and once bright with health. But now there is only smoke, And the sound of a up coming beep.
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Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 10:09 PM UTC
Smoke
My life as of last has been and eye opening, head first dive of exploration interrupted by one, sometimes two day long binges of unpleasant sobriety. Three long years after writing the first stanza, The drugs still being explored This has led me to a more beautiful understanding of myself and my few remaining friends However it seems that I have taken a significant tumble down the socioeconomic ladder At least my writing has gotten neater No longer shaken by the withdrawal of a still desired drug Alcohol has a way of calming and inspiring me Bringing forth the thoughts I cannot make into sound My few remaining friends cut down into a seemingly impossible smaller number I now awake in the night with cold sweats that interrupt my slumber. Dreams of panic and anxiety, Now clouded with past faces. Personifications of things inside me Faces made of thoughts and feelings, Taking over occupied spaces Forcing out the beautiful and imaginative Subconscious taking charge, So the conscious may live.
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 8:09 PM UTC
My life as of last
A clouded mind fogged by wine, Thoughts slower than before, I know that I have had my fill, Yet reach for just one more
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Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
Clouded
Maybe I'm a bit upset, Sometimes I wish I could forget, But my memories are holding me up By thin threads, That are breaking, More and more, Everytime I walk out the door. I could be seeing red, But I'm feeling blue, Because most things I see just remind me of you.
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Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
Untitled
We all have addictions, you were mine. As much as I'll never admit it to you, you run through my veins and poison my blood. They say to not smoke past the number on the bottom of the cigarette but I do anyway in hopes of burning your breath out of my lungs, giving myself a new reason to struggle to breathe rather than the thoughts of you. Tainted like an iron brand your name is imprinted. I scratch at the deepest corners of my mind trying to get rid of it but somehow you're still there. My lips, memories of yours on them, biting off skin hoping it will take off your old touch. I have changed the bed sheets more times than I can count but still your presence lingers, sitting on the edge, smirking. All these thoughts of you and still I know I do not even cross your mind. I thought you were gone permanently but forever was mistaken for just a moment in time, and here you are again, clouding my mind.
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Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
Clouded
The sunlight reminds me That it's morning But my eyes were still clouded Like 2 am. I'm not sure Who keeps topping off My glass Because it seems to be empty Every 5 minutes. How did the sun get To that side Of the room? I see your face In every shadow. The thought of you Is murderous And the knife In my gut Keeps turning. Another glass? I suppose.
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Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 12:00 AM UTC
360
the stars remind me of your eyes;            so bright and brilliant far, too clouded to see.
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
nights in the city