#resigned
5/26/23
If we’re stuck in a state of decay.
Why not hasten it along?
Saturated in apathy and dismay.
The smell of ******** pungent in the throng.
Mar 14
Mar 14, 2026 at 11:21 PM UTC
Visit the garden of your dove,
Kindly visit the grave of your love.
Things aren't right in this play,
A mere admiration will make your day?
How to find, what to write?
In this generation, what is bright?
True passion and dedication,
How can you find it through desperation?
You expect, you hope, but never get
The gift of her reciprocation.
What causes you to despair,
Is the girl, of your admiration.
Themes of love are now gray,
What choice do you have?
Other than to pray.
Dust till dawn, you say,
Dawn till dust, is your day.
A true story isn't always fine,
Yet you believed cause it was mine.
The beauty of work, is always dime.
Imagination is the cage of my mind,
Don't repress your feelings,
Don't be so confined,
I've lost forever, I've resigned.
Oct 31, 2025
Oct 31, 2025 at 9:31 AM UTC
I suppose you lied—
when you swore that words could never wound you.
It is no crime; all souls deceive,
veiling their thresholds,
concealing the hour when endurance unravels,
and silence becomes their only shield.
I have reshaped fragments of myself,
filed edges though the steel endures—
yes, I remain a thorn,
but my counsel turns inward now,
no longer flung outward like brittle seeds,
but sown deep in the soil of my own marrow.
And so the contract splinters—not with fire, but with the quiet severing of a thread,
a fellowship drifting into distance,
a vessel whose torn sails I will never mend.
I am content—resting in the stillness I have chosen.
And you—
are you at peace, or only silent?
Aug 25, 2025
Aug 25, 2025 at 4:30 AM UTC
A dark room
Hiding in the corner
Barely singing a song
Whispering the words
"Happy birthday-"
Choking back tears
holding arms to chest
"-to me."
Letting out a cry
"Happy birthday-"
Thinking about people
the ones downstairs laughing.
"-to me."
Celebrating since they won't.
"Happy birthday-"
At least it'll be sung with the right name.
"-dear Cole."
Tears stream down
Quickly wipe them away
"Happy birthday-"
Jumping, hearing a door slam in the house
"-to me."
Laying down
Rocking back and forth.
I open my eyes.
My birthday again.
Is it really two years later?
Fake birthday wishes sent.
At least this year I won't be alone.
-Cnwlry
Feb 11, 2024
Feb 11, 2024 at 3:50 PM UTC
i'm still in love; despite the occasional madness,
i am in love. even if time opens a cavern beneath
our feet and spreads us thin, i know it'd be best
i try to jump to your side and stagger to cheat
death...
but if fate wills i fall off the edge,
ill face the ground with a sincerity of heart;
not that id resign seeing u again,
but ill wait...
maybe one day ill find a rope
i could climb to see you one more time.
Jun 5, 2023
Jun 5, 2023 at 2:40 PM UTC
Ding! . . . Ding! . . .
A man locks eyes with an artificial light
that shows a world clouded in darkness. Gleaming with empty words and false promises, the light is shut.
“Not now,” he says, as he drifts of into the night.
Ding! . . . Ding! . . .
The man springs from his bed, chasing the light.
Yet his calloused hands go stiff—
he backs away with a shake of the head.
“I’m not ready,” he says, as he eyeballs a dusky mirror reflecting on days that have long gone.
Ding! . . . Ding! . . .
This time, he merely acknowledged the light—
the light that enamored him once, maybe twice.
Yet this time, he simply glanced
as it died in the twilight.
“Why bother?” he says, as he dreams of days that once were.
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 8:50 AM UTC
When I was young life came at such a pace that choices were often ill-considered.
Now I am older the pace is easier but the important choices are all made and they can only be made to change by actions ill-considered.
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 8:42 PM UTC
the people who should protect her
stare into her exhausted eyes
and hammer nails into her heart.
chains bearing obligation and trauma
coil tighter and tighter around her ankles.
resisting worsens the sensation -
almost cutting off the circulation
until the pain is so great
that numbness takes over,
which leads to not resisting,
which feels like resignation -
and the cycle keeps going.
all she wants is to run freely
until the nails and chains
are distant memories
that she will never
pass on to anyone else.
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 7:49 PM UTC
In the midst of thoughtless sand
Just off the coastal road
Where systematic palm trees
Provide just about the only distraction,
Ronnie runs a run down hotel
There in the gulf of Aqaba.
He knows his job well,
He's letting the place cool down a little.
He often sleeps in the day, at reception,
And he's got a glass eye that doesn't blink,
You can book yourself in for one night only
Unless Ronnie has know you,
Has seen you before,
Someplace shady, perhaps,
For it is said that,
Ronnie's tanned for several lifetimes..
Stay a night and
He'll treat you well,
For he's always up for a drink
And his pocket holds more than one light,
He says he used to be Egyptian royalty,
But now he's got his own cabin here
A bit out of sight.
But that's not where he keeps his things..
His cupboards are blank
And his blinds are eternally drunk,
They never come up.
He says he's known this bunk a while,
About the time fame went aside
And the rain got into the swimming pool,
And now you can watch it bloom with niffy pride.
And so half a bottle goes
And midnight it arrives,
And Ronnie sits you down in his dimly lit back room
And begins to tell you about the kind of people he can find:
Those who want to bring you luck,
Other who'd sell you gold at half the price,
No muck,
You may shrug
As he claims to know where the good times dock
And the bad times kept at bay,
And though he admits that he never had a close shave
You notice a scar on his cheek.
He was a minion in the spice trade
Before that war in Mozambique,
A model soldier he was
Credulous & meek and
Conveniently stupid,
So he raged and looted
And his ***** got him booted
To sunny California,
Where he got Cupid tattooed on his upper arm,
He drank with philanthropic truckers
Smoked with greedy hippies,
And he still wears these bracelets
That look like the end of a shredded sleeve
And a pinched fedora
that had its ex head murdered,
It was down town LA that instilled in him a feel
For rough bourbon
And sweeter-than-perfect promises,
He says he'd known love
Real love too,
And sank with it
Bottomless.
He watched dreams become skeletons
And skeletons become dreams
In the cities that took shape of parodies of yore
Upswept.
You notice that he's got almost no nails left,
But he swears he never stole
And he never wept
He says he begged in his bead,
But his pleas weren't quite potent enough
His visions too misty to get handcuffed
And put to work,
So he scuffed for joy
In the midnight murk
And morning slumbers,
Safety in lascivious female numbers,
Action in cursed bottles & pills,
Castrated wonders & faceless thrills that meant nothing but fills
Merging into chaos
He was disappearing fast,
Diving towards greater liberty of thought and speech,
Skedaddling from basic options,
Throttling in gaudy plastic oceans,
Without a map, without an anchor,
He says he finished school with rancour,
The only thing he took to end..
He takes a swig before he brags
That even death might overlook his self
Eventually..
Potentially, maybe,
But you know for a fact that actually,
He's 16 years to live and that is it.
And 4 years after that nobody will remember ****
And when you tell him that,
the morning comes,
But he doesn't **** or argue,
He smiles, puts up his thumb
And calls it a fair bargain.
Apr 24, 2019
Apr 24, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
another ink blotch,
a sentiment in darkness,
timeless.
yet, one you forgot.
just a speck
trying to sound off.
a heart- restless,
learning to let go.
another drip of pen onto paper
and then,
type it up so (they) can murmur
and lie aloud again.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
A
My hatred simmers in a *** on yesterday’s stove. The store was out of what I needed to spice it up and I left my Visa card there. My neck is sore from keeping my chin up. I’ve hung the acid soaked sentences out back where the wind and sun will dry them. I marked a map and programed GPS but somehow I still managed to get lost. There is no future, only now, and I can’t read the instructions Google won’t translate for me. I have a dollar bill to keep me fed with manna in the morning and a hamburger at night. There is a screaming fit locked up in a closet in the basement. Resignation looks around and wonders who resigned - It couldn’t have been me. The dam that won’t release the tears shows signs of cracking at the bottom. The bow that shoots the vengeful arrows has a broken string. Standing tall will only render me a better target. •The pillars that support my worth are festooned with poison ivy. The waves of loss and terror crash and roll but I’ve become a cork.
I float.
ljm
B
•NOTIFICATIONS•
•My hatred simmers in a *** on yesterday’s stove.
•The store was out of what I needed to spice it up and I left my
Visa Card there.
•My neck is sore from keeping my chin up.
•I’ve hung the acid soaked sentences out back where the wind and
the sun will dry them.
•I marked a map and programed GPS but somehow I still
managed to get lost
•There is no future, only now, and I can’t read the instructions
Google won't translate for me.
•I have a dollar bill to keep me fed with manna in the morning and
a hamburger at night
•There is a screaming fit locked up in a closet in the basement.
•Resignation looks around and wonders who resigned - It couldn’t
have been me.
•The dam that won’t release the tears shows signs of cracking at the
bottom
•The bow that shoots the vengeful arrows has a broken string.
•Standing tall will only render me a better target.
•The pillars that support my worth are festooned with poison ivy.
•The waves of loss and terror crash and roll but I’ve become a cork.
•I float.
ljm
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 9:35 AM UTC
Two pieced
My bones are wilting away
****** inside the wonderland
Two pieced
My two souls are drifting away
Stuck inside a corner on the edge
Up and down is immaterial
Only thing real is then and now
Two pieced
My heart has been tormented
Pieces don't recognize
The wholes of themselves
Like shattered remains of children
From a warzone dismissed
Everything is broken
Two pieced is my name
This way I still remain
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC