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#disappointing
One time I was on London's busy Oxford Street crossing the road when I ended up doing the awkward dancing encounter the side to side shuffle you know what I'm talking about if you don't then go away now with a camel coat wearing executive type lady and yes heels yes I went left, she went left from my pov (which stands for point of view) I went right, she went right, see above I wasn't trying to be a nuisance but it was quite confusing then I went left, she went left I went right, she went right you get the picture, yes we see This went on for one verse too long (from her pov) then she let out an exasperated HAH! shoved me hard in the chest shocked >I buckled< OOOF! I have to say she had every right and it takes an alpha-beta male to admit this, thank you for your attention to this matter
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Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 5:31 PM UTC
Unexpected, and Unasked for, Minor Erotica 1
to be the kind of person who will glimpse the cherry blossom tree beautifully delicate in its early bloom fluttering the palest pink against a fragile white desperate against even the gentlest of breeze but only observe the black and the white of what the premature might mean for later commenting how soon these branches will lose their graceful lustre no longer to inspire those hopeful wanderers only to appear barren and lifeless once again
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Feb 22, 2024
Feb 22, 2024 at 1:08 PM UTC
it can be disappointing to realise
sometimes hearing that someone else is broken heals us and that's just sad
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Dec 20, 2020
Dec 20, 2020 at 2:15 AM UTC
the broken and the ******
Ask it. And mirror marked Of grime, and dirt Lines, white Razor perfect Eyes that haunt My own Approaches A simple device Of a vice Choices I find myself This familiarity Strings to hands Leading feet Want, need To not And no longer Be that one This used to numb Thoughts are Are not The intentions Put to sound Shaky tired voice Help me Breathe it in While facing His gaze is I Am Sorry Again
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Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 4:08 AM UTC
WeAk
Exiting a vehicle of fading black Looking about But not looking back Eagerly setting out With a pack in back Only but a few miles to the real start This day, starting at the very bottom River of black rock and a strip of yellow paint Below eager feet Trekking up, not stopping for the heat To the left, tall hill of dry brush and crumbling rock To the right, a great rocky edge Overlooking a grand sight Of distant hills and the city People ahead, talking of the journey Laughing and prancing about Soon I'm passing them, Getting ahead Eventually stopping to see the view Only to hear a distant shout; A name, called in the wind Time to turn around? Leave before it has truly begun? Sad, indeed it is, For it was with great disappointment And great sadness That lay deep in my chest As we dragged down the hill Maybe another day to complete the rest But oh, this day is not that day. - Jay M June 28th, 2020
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Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 10:46 PM UTC
The "Great" Hike
im not sad nor mad just disappointed since im the one youre avoiding I understand youre hurt just dont make me feel like im the ****
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Apr 22, 2020
Apr 22, 2020 at 9:57 PM UTC
I’m not the ****
It's like a silent road Everything has been stopped. Without having a hope or a dream and being free But it's like walking blindly. Things are never going to happen As I thought How it supposed to be. Finally realised that It is like a mirage Because disappointing it seems to keep our dreams and our thinking in our mind.
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Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 6:53 AM UTC
Silent road
If you cut me open what do you think you would find? Two gasping lungs? A beating heart? What do you expect to find inside me? Hope? Faith? Love? I'm so very sorry to disappoint I've beaten you at your own game Truth is I opened myself up a long time ago Just to see what flesh looked like below skin And as it would seem I'm empty inside
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Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 10:18 PM UTC
Empty Inside
Down I trusted you, but - D You promised me, but - O W I fall from the sky, and - N You let me fall, and - down DON'T I didn't jump, and - L You pushed me over, but- E T I'm disappointed, but - ME You're disappointing, and - d o w n You let me down
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Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 11:07 AM UTC
Down
It’s really disheartening The way people are being They only love you at the beginning And they chew you up the next thing They spit you out after they use you They forget everything right that you do They take your air until you turn blue Turns out, people are worse than you knew It’s really disappointing The way spiders keep you spinning They bind you up till you’re hurting Keep you in a shelf until they start eating They make you wait for your death Mercilessly, they take your last breath What’s worse is you don’t even have a death bed Your awake but all of you is spent Like a lake without water Like a pen without a paper They left me like this, more alone than ever I just wish I could be happier But I promise myself, this is the last time I’ll never again let them take what’s mine My sanity is all that is left in my mind And I’ll bury it somewhere even I can’t find
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Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 8:03 AM UTC
Spent
I went to the canyon To see the sights To read the writes To meet the heights The heights were high The lows were right But something didn’t click The tears didn’t run The breath wasn’t taken Yeah it was cool but I’m not mistaken I wanted to be blown off that cliff But the wind fell short, the air was stiff Never have I met my sense of awe I hope we’ll meet someday I’m holding out hope that I find my strike That I’ll be blown away
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Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 1:48 PM UTC
Grand Canyon
I do so well without you Then you come back again I say that I am fine I sit and play pretend. I go off to parties I try to flirt with men I do so well without you That it’s hard not to pretend. And, silly me, I loved you And, silly me, I care For you and all around you But love is never fair. I do so well without you Then back you come around I see you in the distance You look for common ground. I say I want to see you I say I want to call I sit alone and wonder If I was anything at all? And, silly me, I loved you I thought I meant the world To me, you were my everything But I was not your girl. I do so well without you So very, very well. Until you say hello again And I’m under your spell. And, silly me, I talk to you I often bare my soul And, silly me, I love you But you don’t deserve to know.
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Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 10:32 PM UTC
I Do So Well Without You
You laugh at my jokes and blush as I tease You drive me insane and I swear you’re flirting with me Please reply I’ve thought this for a while So I decided to say I like you a lot, but I know you don’t feel the same way Please reply  You’re straight and I know I can’t change that. Am I just telling myself what I want to hear, Is it true that those intertwined hand holds were anything but queer Please reply They fit like puzzle pieces and I swear when we pull away.. Its like they don’t want to let go, they just want to stay And oh how I wish they could.  Please reply  They depart slowly and I can still feel the heat Sadly not the warmth from your rosy red cheeks Please reply  Is it true that when we locked eyes, blushed and chuckled, It was nothing, simply a friend, your bright eyes rebuttal Please reply   Is it true that my heart beat shouldn’t have increased and my face shouldn’t have turned red Is it true I shouldn’t be lying here writing about you alone in my bed Or at all Please reply please reply Please Just  Reply
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Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
untouchable heart
It’s the disappointing feeling you get When a phenomenal movie is over Or hearing a song you relate to And realize it’s about to end You know you can always play them again But nothing will ever compare to the first time.
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Feb 6, 2018
Feb 6, 2018 at 5:32 PM UTC
Heartbreak
Disappointment I see it in my mother’s eyes I hear it in her voice I feel it in the air The tension is painful It’s sharp like needles against my skin Her words hit me like broken glass “Can’t” “Don’t” “Wouldn’t” “Why”      It stings “Why”      It seeps into my skin “Why”      It creeps through my veins How does a mother’s disappointment explain why? Why?      My brain was asleep Why?      I was on autopilot Why?      My head was full of fog Why?      I wasn’t in control Disappointment. I am everyone’s greatest.
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Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 4:53 PM UTC
Disappointment
I don't like new notebooks. I mean, I like new, beautiful, clean, pristine notebooks, but I don't like using them. I don't want to ruin it. I open up to the first page and it's so blank, so white, so pure, there's not an imperfection in sight. I don't want to use it because I don't want to mess it up. I want it to stay perfect, and beautiful. I don't want that inevitable ****** drawing or poem to **** it up. I don't want my uncleanliness, my messiness to spread to something so perfect. I do end up using it. If I didn't, I'd just have a bunch of empty notebooks lying around which honestly I'd prefer. But I take forever to do it, to break the seal. I have to have the perfect thing to ruin perfection because if it's not perfect, it's not worth it to ruin it. It goes two ways though: The first entry is perfect, beautiful, inspiring, deep, and then I never use that book again. Because now it's perfection is magnified. I couldn't possibly follow it up with something better or just as good, and it's quite possible that the more I try to come up with something good to match, the initial piece deteriorates and it becomes disappointing, thus resulting in the notebook not being used. The second way this goes is the first entry is trash. It's disgraceful and I want to tear it out but suddenly the book becomes less daunting, less intimidating because now, it's imperfect. Every entry to follow doesn't have to live up to some grand standard. But I'm reminded everytime I use that book that I failed, that I created garbage. It makes everything that comes after, not as good as what I want to do, it lacks passion. If I tear out the initial entry, the cycle starts over. No matter which way you spin it, we just don't get along. I end up with a bunch of half used, disappointing books sitting around haunting me as I walk by. A notebook is reflective of who you are, it displays the deepest parts of you. What if your unhappy with what you see on the page? What if what you see isn't you? What if, this blank, empty page of nothingness is better than what you are? Why would you want to ruin something so pure and perfect with your mess? Because nothing you ever write, draw, sketch, compose or create on it will ever be as good as it's once held purity. -t.s.
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Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 9:18 PM UTC
New Notebooks
I don't like new notebooks. I mean, I like new, beautiful, clean, pristine notebooks, but I don't like using them. I don't want to ruin it. I open up to the first page and it's so blank, so white, so pure, there's not an imperfection in sight. I don't want to use it because I don't want to mess it up. I want it to stay perfect, and beautiful. I don't want that inevitable ****** drawing or poem to **** it up. I don't want my uncleanliness, my messiness to spread to something so perfect. I do end up using it. If I didn't, I'd just have a bunch of empty notebooks lying around which honestly I'd prefer. But I take forever to do it, to break the seal. I have to have the perfect thing to ruin perfection because if it's not perfect, it's not worth it to ruin it. It goes two ways though: The first entry is perfect, beautiful, inspiring, deep, and then I never use that book again. Because now it's perfection is magnified. I couldn't possibly follow it up with something better or just as good, and it's quite possible that the more I try to come up with something good to match, the initial piece deteriorates and it becomes disappointing, thus resulting in the notebook not being used. The second way this goes is the first entry is trash. It's disgraceful and I want to tear it out but suddenly the book becomes less daunting, less intimidating because now, it's imperfect. Every entry to follow doesn't have to live up to some grand standard. But I'm reminded everytime I use that book that I failed, that I created garbage. It makes everything that comes after, not as good as what I want to do, it lacks passion. If I tear out the initial entry, the cycle starts over. No matter which way you spin it, we just don't get along. I end up with a bunch of half used, disappointing books sitting around haunting me as I walk by. A notebook is reflective of who you are, it displays the deepest parts of you. What if your unhappy with what you see on the page? What if what you see isn't you? What if, this blank, empty page of nothingness is better than what you are? Why would you want to ruin something so pure and perfect with your mess? Because nothing you ever write, draw, sketch, compose or create on it will ever be as good as it's once held purity. -t.s.
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Connection beyond all belief. Connection between two. If only. Deep connection, where tether strings are tied, no matter how far - there is a floating connection. And I yearn for it. The connection, one where I fall, one where I fall aimlessly into reciprocation. And I am always closing every door. No one sees the mirrors like I do. And if they stand behind me - I crack the mirror, or, I will fog the mirror, I will stand far away.... With my entire heart, my entire being - one day - I held out a single, violently shaking finger (the only part of my body reaching out.) The only part asking for help, love, acceptance. The only piece of flesh that I will reveal. But, I tend to clench my fists. And the connection between anyone is never as strong as I hoped, as I wanted, as I.... I stand in the darkest of corners. Hearing my own breathe every once in a while. My heart beat, loud, my stinging chest, quivers at their intertwining connections. They...... And I wish I could connect, but fear keeps my mouth empty My mind's sparks are dim - I keep the light low. But their roaring flames, brilliant, luminescent - it's growing. Shining through a prism. Shining daylight - glorious to all with wide eyes and I.... wish, they knew I had a finger to spare in their conversation. But the corner, is comfort. The corner is the protection against loss. The corner never gains or loses. And that is where I will remain. Do they know?
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Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 4:25 AM UTC
Away
I thought I was still special I guess it isn't what it is now I've become your form of distraction I ponder on who else have been treated the same way, and so my thoughts crow You'd tell me that you are okay when really, you have just been trying to find an escape from the affection your heart has been longing for since the time you lost the warmth from someone else Hence, I've been so foolish thinking I was different from the rest.
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Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 11:21 AM UTC
Human Distraction
It didn't matter who, Or When, Or Where, Or What, He used to get his way. A manipulative little boy, Born and bred to be, No less than destructive. A brother by blood, But by God not by love, And perhaps that's why.
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Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 2:16 PM UTC
Lost Boy
"I know What I want, When I want, And How I want it! " When you scream at me My whining and scream Is louder than anything To make me stop You need to give me everything Because … "I know What I want, When I want, and How I want it ! " Talking to me makes no sense And explaining to me Just makes me build more fence Whatever you do, you can’t break me For … " I KNOW WHAT I WANT, WHEN I WANT, AND HOW I WANT IT!!!! "
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Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 8:44 AM UTC
Spoiled Brat
Loving someone just like me was terrible. We were a twister; a ball of flames-- so destructive, that we burnt everyone in our wake. I'm so sorry. We broke every bed, and smashed every ******* hope and dream our parents had for us. We screamed and yelled and decimated each other to the brink of permanent dislocation, and then you shoved me over the cliff. My, what a cliff that was.. **** me? No. **** you. We shattered every bone in our bodies violently explaining how "right" one of us was, but we only proved how fatally stubborn we really are. We rode the waves of life ******** That was a mistake. We shot up the night, and drank up the tragedies like drunks fresh out of a failed rehab stint, as they rolled over us like rock crushers-- hair of the dog that bit you; "it's good for poetry", they said. Never a dull moment for us Abuser Never a craving I want what I had back Never a quiet moment We used to scream so loud.. Never left wanting more I want more than a manipulator. Never a deeper sadness than what we create together **** straight** I don't love you anymore.
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Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
Resurrection of days long dead.
"Gladly lost in the depths of you" What depths? How am I lost? I'm lost in a puddle. I'm standing ankle deep in fluff; in disappointment. Some days, I wish things were different Some days, I wish we were two of a kind Some days.. But I fear loving someone just like me would be terrible. We would be a twister; a ball of flames-- so destructive, that we would burn everyone in our wake. We would break every bed, and smash every hope and dream our parents' had for us. We would scream and yell and decimate each other to the brink of permanent dislocation, but never over the cliff. My, what a cliff that would be.. We would break every bone in our bodies violently explaining how "right" one of us was, but only proving how fatally stubborn we really are. We would ride the waves of life ******** We would shoot up the night, and drink up the tragedies like a drunk fresh out of a failed rehab stint, as they roll over us like rock crushers-- hair of the dog that bit you; it's good for poetry, they say. Never a dull moment for us Never a craving Never a quiet moment Never left wanting more Never a deeper sadness than what we create together But perhaps it's a mistake wanting more than you Perhaps you're keeping me from destruction Perhaps your holding me back is a blessing Perhaps I need you more than my heart realizes Perhaps it's better this way Perhaps I don't need to ever fall in love with someone like me Lord knows I can't seem to love myself What makes me think I would love my true other half?
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
Someone like me
"Gladly lost in the depths of you" What depths? How am I lost? I'm lost in a puddle. I'm standing ankle deep in fluff; in disappointment. Some days, I wish things were different Some days, I wish we were two of a kind Some days.. But I fear loving someone just like me would be terrible. We would be a twister; a ball of flames-- so destructive, that we would burn everyone in our wake. We would break every bed, and smash every hope and dream our parents' had for us. We would scream and yell and decimate each other to the brink of permanent dislocation, but never over the cliff. My, what a cliff that would be.. We would break every bone in our bodies violently explaining how "right" one of us was, but only proving how fatally stubborn we really are. We would ride the waves of life ******** We would shoot up the night, and drink up the tragedies like a drunk fresh out of a failed rehab stint, as they roll over us like rock crushers-- hair of the dog that bit you; it's good for poetry, they say. Never a dull moment for us Never a craving Never a quiet moment Never left wanting more Never a deeper sadness than what we create together But perhaps it's a mistake wanting more than you Perhaps you're keeping me from destruction Perhaps your holding me back is a blessing Perhaps I need you more than my heart realizes Perhaps it's better this way Perhaps I don't need to ever fall in love with someone like me Lord knows I can't seem to love myself What makes me think I would love my true other half?
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