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#lonley
the steps I take never seem to fail but the stairs get longer and longer my body grows tired and I shut down take a break and go up again its so many stairs when I fall I cant tell if I even moved or if I just stayed that's kind of how life is we work and work and stop -eat -sleep -repeat, this the the life of a parent who never had time for me.
0
2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 12:13 PM UTC
steps
I didn’t see the bags Your bags did you hide them in the attic Or maybe the basement were you halfway out the door One leg already off the platform before I'd even bought the ticket Has it been like this for quite some time? like you already written the will, before I'd taken my first breath Were you ever going to tell me? that you'd made a decision did you even consider to fight that I was worth keeping cause I saw you as family You withdrew yourself without a word in silence not even silence just gone I wish you had given me some empty words something to I treasured you heard you call me "a nice girl who helped me a lot, but we grew apart" nah. we didn't I grew from grief, after turning myself inside out trying to find the red thread to find all the failure in me Got tired of fleeing You knew that I learnt honesty is a path patience is kind boundaries are important even good road hurts when you fall over a rock Did you ever stop to question yourself? I've been kept blind no warning signs non I could see I'm done being sad over you I'm done questioning myself I'm done feeling not enough I didn't lose you cause You never had me
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Apr 15
Apr 15, 2026 at 7:31 PM UTC
Were you ever going to tell me?
A single cup of tea left cold on the kitchen table. The vines breaking in through the windows and door. The unkempt lawn, overgrown to the point of being unnavigable. The chilling air, the uninhabited silence. There was no one here anymore, or anywhere for that matter. Just the plants and the crows, reclaiming the earth one sinewy root at a time. The absence of life. There were still things alive out there in the wilder world, but it was different. The bustling cities had become all too quiet. The way they were untouched was macabre, like time had paused, and would resume any moment. You would see a line of cars, stuck in traffic, but no one inside. Restaurants with the open sign illuminated, but nothing else. Charters drifting aimlessly through the ocean, no crew aboard. And a cup of cold tea, left sitting on the kitchen table.
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Apr 7
Apr 7, 2026 at 10:35 AM UTC
No One Is Here Anymore
Nights are especially hard, when everything's quiet. The hum of the air conditioner, droning on and on. Nothing to distract me, no one to help me. Nothing to brace my fall, cushion my descent into madness. Just me, myself, and the musings of my Permanently unquiet mind. Sometimes my thoughts spill onto paper, bleeding through pages. Offering a short respite from the weight of unbearable sanity. Nights are especially hard, when almost everything is quiet, only my spiraling psyche speaks in this empty room.
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Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 10:07 AM UTC
What Speaks In An Empty Room
The walls were a pale shade of baby blue, the paint was chipped in places. It is an odd contrast; so sterile, but so imperfect at the same time. The bed sheets were rough and thin, breathable. There was a single light, in the middle of the room, A thick window to the left, with permanently parted blinds. I sat against the wall, knees to my chest, arms wrapped around myself. Thoughts spiraling, twisting, warping, into horrible things. The papery clothes itch at my collar. It was dark outside, I could make out a single street light through a thick line of trees. There were no stars, not that I could see. My heart racing and palms sweat. My mind gets louder, overwhelming my rationality. My eyes well, tears threaten to roll down my cheeks. I fall asleep in the fetal position, like some wounded animal Slouched on the cold linoleum floor. my throat burns. Feelings I’ve shoved down threaten to regurgitate. I tell myself I'm fine. That's a lie I'm breaking into pieces I tell myself, I’m not hungry. That's a lie, I am hungry, I’m so hungry that it hurts.
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Apr 2
Apr 2, 2026 at 10:02 AM UTC
The Walls Bleed Florescent
My favorite time is between 2 and 5am, it's the hours of poets and dreamers, scholars and believers, artists and muses, the inspired and the insomniacs, the readers and the writers, the overthinkers and their thoughts. Everything is different between those hours, Everyone is different. Vulnerable, honest, real. What I'd give to live my whole life In the limbo of night. Where the moon is hidden behind a blanket of clouds, the streetlights are on, and the highways are empty. Everything is so quiet, Between the hours of 2 and 5.
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Apr 1
Apr 1, 2026 at 2:39 PM UTC
Between Two and Five
a note in a cracked champagne bottle A Poem by Colton Warr I yearned for you long before you ever knew, Before my name meant anything to you, I carried it quiet, like something I stole, A bright, aching spark in the dark of my soul. My heart is champagne meant to burst into light, To laugh in your hands on a warm summer night, But somewhere along all the waiting and strain, A crack found its way through the glass of my pain. Now every soft feeling escapes with a hiss, Each word I don’t say tastes a little like this, Like sweetness gone flat, like a cork never freed, Like joy that arrived far too early to be. You speak of your dreams, you speak of your fears, Of people who held you through years upon years. I nod like a friend, I smile like I’m fine, While adoring you lives in the marrow of my spine. If bottles could speak, if glass could confess, Mine would be shaking with all I suppress. A note swims inside it, written in truth, In ink made of longing and leftover youth. But I fear if I open what’s breaking in me, The spill would be more than you’d care to see. So I let it go quiet, I let it grow old, This love losing bubbles, this warmth turning cold. Still, somewhere inside the cracked, fragile shell, The champagne remembers how joy used to swell. And I adore you like that, unspoken, unfree, A celebration you never knew waited for thee. Part 2 (Champagne Stains) I carry my love the way a party carries its last hour, quietly, with the lights dimmed, confetti bruised underfoot, music still breathing but tired. You don’t know this. You smile at me like a passerby smiles at a window display, not realizing the glass is warm from someone standing too close for too long. My heart is a cracked champagne bottle, once sealed for celebration, meant to be opened with laughter and a gasp of surprise. Now there’s a fracture along the neck, thin, almost polite, leaking its fizz into the air before anyone can toast. I keep the bottle anyway. I tell myself cracks are proof of pressure, of joy waiting too hard. Inside, the bubbles still rise, still believing they’ll reach your lips. You talk to me about your days, about the weather, about people you loved out loud. Each word is a fingertip tapping the glass, and I pretend it doesn’t ring. If I could, I’d slip this poem to you, a folded note drifting in sweetness, let it wash up at your feet when you least expect it. But the bottle is flawed, and I am afraid of the spill, afraid that once opened, there will be nothing left to save. So I stand here, fizzing quietly, celebration postponed, adoring you in the way oceans love shores they’re not allowed to cross, endlessly, patiently, leaving everything I am in the sound of breaking bubbles you never hear. Part 3 (uncorked) I keep my love sealed deep inside of this glass, A champagne heart I dare not yet unseal, The bubbles climb, insisting they must pass, Each rising spark revealing what I feel. A crack runs thin along the bottles side, A fault line drawn by time I cannot slow, The pressure builds; my silence can’t abide, The fizzing truth that’s begging me to go. I’m running out of time to play it safe, The cork is tired of hearing me pretend, If I don’t pour it now the glass will break, And spill a love I never got to send. I have two glasses waiting on the table, One meant for me, one meant to meet your hand, So drink with me while it’s still a fable- Before the bottle breaks, please understand.
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Jan 1
Jan 1, 2026 at 11:39 AM UTC
a note in a cracked champagne bottle pt 1,2 and 3
a note in a cracked champagne bottle A Poem by Colton Warr I yearned for you long before you ever knew, Before my name meant anything to you, I carried it quiet, like something I stole, A bright, aching spark in the dark of my soul. My heart is champagne meant to burst into light, To laugh in your hands on a warm summer night, But somewhere along all the waiting and strain, A crack found its way through the glass of my pain. Now every soft feeling escapes with a hiss, Each word I don’t say tastes a little like this, Like sweetness gone flat, like a cork never freed, Like joy that arrived far too early to be. You speak of your dreams, you speak of your fears, Of people who held you through years upon years. I nod like a friend, I smile like I’m fine, While adoring you lives in the marrow of my spine. If bottles could speak, if glass could confess, Mine would be shaking with all I suppress. A note swims inside it, written in truth, In ink made of longing and leftover youth. But I fear if I open what’s breaking in me, The spill would be more than you’d care to see. So I let it go quiet, I let it grow old, This love losing bubbles, this warmth turning cold. Still, somewhere inside the cracked, fragile shell, The champagne remembers how joy used to swell. And I adore you like that, unspoken, unfree, A celebration you never knew waited for thee. Part 2 (Champagne Stains) I carry my love the way a party carries its last hour, quietly, with the lights dimmed, confetti bruised underfoot, music still breathing but tired. You don’t know this. You smile at me like a passerby smiles at a window display, not realizing the glass is warm from someone standing too close for too long. My heart is a cracked champagne bottle, once sealed for celebration, meant to be opened with laughter and a gasp of surprise. Now there’s a fracture along the neck, thin, almost polite, leaking its fizz into the air before anyone can toast. I keep the bottle anyway. I tell myself cracks are proof of pressure, of joy waiting too hard. Inside, the bubbles still rise, still believing they’ll reach your lips. You talk to me about your days, about the weather, about people you loved out loud. Each word is a fingertip tapping the glass, and I pretend it doesn’t ring. If I could, I’d slip this poem to you, a folded note drifting in sweetness, let it wash up at your feet when you least expect it. But the bottle is flawed, and I am afraid of the spill, afraid that once opened, there will be nothing left to save. So I stand here, fizzing quietly, celebration postponed, adoring you in the way oceans love shores they’re not allowed to cross, endlessly, patiently, leaving everything I am in the sound of breaking bubbles you never hear. Part 3 (uncorked) I keep my love sealed deep inside of this glass, A champagne heart I dare not yet unseal, The bubbles climb, insisting they must pass, Each rising spark revealing what I feel. A crack runs thin along the bottles side, A fault line drawn by time I cannot slow, The pressure builds; my silence can’t abide, The fizzing truth that’s begging me to go. I’m running out of time to play it safe, The cork is tired of hearing me pretend, If I don’t pour it now the glass will break, And spill a love I never got to send. I have two glasses waiting on the table, One meant for me, one meant to meet your hand, So drink with me while it’s still a fable- Before the bottle breaks, please understand.
Continue reading...
92
Coffee shops with preppy peers I have many thoughts to get out Avoided from spite not fears resolute in dive for better rout It's peaceful during the day, And coffee as good as another If I get lonely I need only wait The afternoon will fill the parlor Cosmopolitan citizen Harken to what will be When many words written - so many words for thee My profession is lying But desperately wanted to paint And so I took to writing Better pictures in verbal trade -by a distant artist that life made   In manner wise for manners far accredited for chance mistake Intrepid move from coffee shop to the bar   for a friend anticipate Pleasure held in pleasure’s hand The world is sweet in little pieces Tis sour still for stern demand But sugar is found in cracks and creases   Then the tacit messenger Quick and silent Hermes Happily I offer my surrender when at last tis time to leave The sun is warm and brightly shown Though my face is found in wanting So I walk at night in a city known and bodies pass like ships undaunted Demon or Daemon, the moments thrill gazes held amid motions thrown Two philosophers at The Hemlock Grill embracing axiomatic trace resume
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Dec 5, 2025
Dec 5, 2025 at 11:06 AM UTC
The Hemlock Grill
My lips are cold. For i am not bold Bold enough to squeeze u tight and hold Hold ur body close to mine I have cold lips Like frosted tips Cold enough to sink the greatest ships However the greatest ships have already set sail. For I am not bold Will I grow old Old and alone Alone in the friendzone Cause I lack... I... I lack the boldness Your lips are a house And mine are homeless.
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Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 4:56 AM UTC
Lonley Lips
Lonely That’s what I am without you That’s what I fear Before you I merely existed But now I experience
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Apr 7, 2025
Apr 7, 2025 at 12:59 AM UTC
Without you I am lost
I never minded the quiet. The way the walls never asked for anything, the way the night didn’t need me to speak. I could sit with my own silence, breathe in the stillness, and call it enough. Then you showed up. Not loud, not demanding--just there. And suddenly, the silence wasn’t peaceful, it was just empty. I started waiting for your voice before I even knew I was listening. I started looking for you in rooms I knew you wouldn’t be in. And now, without you, the quiet feels heavier. Like it knows what it's missing. Like it’s waiting, too.
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Mar 24, 2025
Mar 24, 2025 at 9:49 PM UTC
Before you
I have been bitten too many times, now I am immune to your poison, To leave and never come back, now I have all the reason. Few words, few looks we exchanged An unloved soul mistook them for love that never existed. Fake promises and flattering words my eyes did observe, But to a lonely man in a lethal world, it felt as love. Every flower in a tree doesn't give a fruit, And our love was never meant to bloom. To escape solitude and for longing love, I traveled this far now I go back with memories filled with scars. For a love that only existed in my mind, To escape these illusions, true love I shall try to find. Just like the night sky slowly turns into a brighter day, In my life, it turned into a darker night and stayed like that forever. To live a life in silence or To live a life with scars, I don’t know either I chose-joy is something I will never know.
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Mar 23, 2025
Mar 23, 2025 at 9:50 AM UTC
Silence or Scars
I can't stand these lonley nights. I try not to be bitter for it is blight. It consumes me whole how i lost a future so bright; The girl, my friends, my dignity gone like waning light. How can any of this truly be right? But no matter how hard i stress my plight, I still come to realise it was never really  right, For they never cared for me their love was tight, And in their depature i found the light. Lonely yes, but now i can stand these nights, And yes for company i still do fight. But i know it will come when the time is right. I guess for now its just another lonley night.
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Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 6:06 AM UTC
These lonley nights
I gather up all the tiny shards, pieces of my broken heart. And hold them oh so carefully, so they don't further fall apart. I wrap them so very tightly, in what I think is love. And I whisper to them so no one hears, "I promise that you're enough."
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Feb 16, 2024
Feb 16, 2024 at 1:28 PM UTC
If I Dont No one Will
I sail this ocean alone every night. While wondering how much longer I'll fight, to stay above water on top of the waves.     No sight of safety not islands or caves. I'm alone and I'm drowning in my own despair, please if you hear me then tell me you're there. Reach out your hand and pull me ashore.  I won't let it go this time, not like before. I don't wish to stay here alone every night, with nothing but my sorrows in this lonely moonlight.
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Aug 11, 2023
Aug 11, 2023 at 6:58 PM UTC
Moonlight
Don't know what to feel, Don't know what to say, **** this life, I don't wanna stay, Every things alright, Every things ok, Until you stop, Taking that pill per day.
0
Dec 8, 2020
Dec 8, 2020 at 6:22 PM UTC
Happy pills
Stupid us Thinking we Were in love Stupid me Thinking I Was good enough.
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Dec 7, 2020
Dec 7, 2020 at 3:41 PM UTC
Stupid love
I try to make you happy, I try to make you laugh, I try to make you feel like you're in heaven, Even though you put me through hell.
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Dec 6, 2020
Dec 6, 2020 at 7:54 PM UTC
Hell
Destruction breeds creation a man he once told me. But I'm all deconstructed and this creation I can't see. I've been seeking shelter, shelter From The Storm. Because I can't take this battered braking feeling I'm so torn. Well all I see is bridges and they're burning in my dreams. While I'm searching for passage to a place I can be free. So just deconstruct me tear apart my lonely mind. Desolation and frustration is all in there you'll find. I'll just batton down my hatches and rosin up my bow. Cuz the way it's looking we're in for a hell of a storm. It's getting Wicked with a quickness can't you hear that thunderous roar. I can't see the road signs I don't know which way I'm going.
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Nov 1, 2020
Nov 1, 2020 at 8:57 AM UTC
Destruction Creates
It's been a while, Since i drunk so much. These days, my drug is just the smile, I lay down, it's my new crutch. I miss the days, that were softly red, I miss the feeling of wanting dead. My life is sore, but not so much more. I wish, I wish I knew where to go. Just sit in my calm place now, meadow. It was all a lie, I told myself. Instead, I put it on a higher shelf. Do these feelings last? Or do they simply pass. I'm asking, not enquiring something something requiring, some strength and love, is not enough, especially from above. Was I always destined, To be your friend or be your foe? I do wish to answer, however, although.... I dont know, what to think no more. I feel empty not just sore. I feel like I've lost myself, I ask for help I asked for help I ask for... No more than the ordinary person. Why can't I write how I used to? Why can't I write only in pain. Why can't I write when I'm feeling sane. What is this curse? What is this verse, could it be any worse? I feel so numb, Down to my thumb. I feel like I've lost my brain. I feel so alone, Yet I feel not alone. I feel like I've lost again.
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Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 9:35 AM UTC
Fucki amirite?
I’m not saying that I have a bad life I have everything I need to survive I have a job, roof over my head, support I buy the things that I need and want But for some reason I have a feeling in me that just does not want to leave me alone I don’t feel like I’m worth it Anything I deserve nothing that would make me happy Why? I honestly don’t know No one understands what goes through my head Im very insecure and constantly worried I worry that people don’t actually like or love me I worried that everyone thinks I’m annoying Nothing helps me feel totally happy Not money, family, friends, nothing And I don’t know why. I feel like I’m alone No one is helping me fight my battle A army of one I have visions of me fighting I have moments where I just sit in my room and drive myself crazy overthinking I end up crying and fighting with myself Yelling, punching things, throwing things And picking fights with my boyfriend I love him I really do But, I feel like my insecurities are pushing him away He says he loves me but I don’t believe him Why should I I’m nothing, im not important to him I feel like trash compared to the other girls he’s been with He can do better then me I want help and I need it but I don’t know where to get it Self medication isn’t helping anymore And it will get worse I just know it I know me
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Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 10:02 AM UTC
This is How I Am
I hate who I am And I never want to get to the point where I leave you because I leave me.
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May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 11:55 AM UTC
Unseen
Hello? Why do I constantly feel alone I alway feel like I am unknown A creature just wanting to be their own A creature that has drasticly grown.
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Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 11:55 AM UTC
Self monster