#theusual - Hello Poetry

The first pang is small Like the bite of bug Then you can feel the pain crawl Suddenly your dragging The empty feeling lashing In you gut No more you cry No more tears The begging of why Though the darkness never replied The silence is screaming You pray to just be dreaming The silence is screaming The comes a whisper cutting in Those voices, you're wearing thin The voices are deeming Their scheming! You can't take what their dealing Just make it stop Stop the shadow looming above Your ear makes a pop To **** this crud You bet for any drug But it's futile and painful The doctor doesn't approve Nothing can't be removed You hear their breathing Their whispering You cry for their disappearing But that dream isn't nearing! Nothing is curing Your only fearing The sadness won't be clearing Then you see the razor A careless, simple razor Maybe just a graze or, A slice Just one you question And they agree Just one run, now two You can see the desolation But they SCREAM to make it ****** The cuts keep coming through and through They get quieter and quieter You wonder their silence Then you see the razor slowing The key is glowing A blood drop or two for their compliance Nothing had ever felt tighter You are no fighter So you grip that razor tighter Till they come back If only the support hugged you back Maybe then this wouldn't be so lonely Maybe you'd be happy Maybe you'd be ok Maybe... You wouldn't be here in the first place

0

Jul 22, 2019

Jul 22, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC

KatieKat1916

Panic

The first pang is small Like the bite of bug Then you can feel the pain crawl Suddenly your dragging The empty feeling lashing In you gut No more you cry No more tears The begging of why Though the darkness never replied The silence is screaming You pray to just be dreaming The silence is screaming The comes a whisper cutting in Those voices, you're wearing thin The voices are deeming Their scheming! You can't take what their dealing Just make it stop Stop the shadow looming above Your ear makes a pop To **** this crud You bet for any drug But it's futile and painful The doctor doesn't approve Nothing can't be removed You hear their breathing Their whispering You cry for their disappearing But that dream isn't nearing! Nothing is curing Your only fearing The sadness won't be clearing Then you see the razor A careless, simple razor Maybe just a graze or, A slice Just one you question And they agree Just one run, now two You can see the desolation But they SCREAM to make it ****** The cuts keep coming through and through They get quieter and quieter You wonder their silence Then you see the razor slowing The key is glowing A blood drop or two for their compliance Nothing had ever felt tighter You are no fighter So you grip that razor tighter Till they come back If only the support hugged you back Maybe then this wouldn't be so lonely Maybe you'd be happy Maybe you'd be ok Maybe... You wouldn't be here in the first place

57

Some come my time to write Do I just run or take flight? I think of all I did wrong Why couldn't we just get along? We fed like vultures to prey Wearing a new mask each day With that same sad smile That anyone can see within a mile Riding high on that good **** To ***** out what I need Because I just wanted to help you But just help you is all you would do For 9 months no not 10 I don't think I could ever do that again

0

Sep 24, 2017

Sep 24, 2017 at 8:35 PM UTC

lauren-leal

Fake Limbs

Some come my time to write Do I just run or take flight? I think of all I did wrong Why couldn't we just get along? We fed like vultures to prey Wearing a new mask each day With that same sad smile That anyone can see within a mile Riding high on that good **** To ***** out what I need Because I just wanted to help you But just help you is all you would do For 9 months no not 10 I don't think I could ever do that again

14

You don't love me, do you? I wonder constantly. I know it. Your love is immature and selfish. I remember thinking love would be bliss. You wouldn't mourn me, would you? I watch as you do nothing as I die of stress. Do my eyes look angry, accusing? You don't help because you want to do less. I'd be far too inconvenient, wouldn't I? You watch me drown in my efforts. I fully expect you not to reach out a hand. I wonder if I could possibly think of you worse. You wouldn't spit on me if I was burning. I hate you when you are smiling, lately. I'm having premature heart attack symptoms Anxiety, stress, and PTSD are killing me I'll rip the smile off your face and the air from your lungs. I don't care that you're frustrated, lately. Or did you think empty platitudes would calm me? Tell me everything you plan to do And will I believe you? Probably not, we'll see. I'm tired of feeling like a glory hole, lately. I'll pay for your comfort and deal with your lust Nice to meet you, I contain a brain, wow! And I'll use that brain to leave you if I must. It's disconcerting to me that you make promises you break so easily. Do you read my poetry anymore? I doubt it. I'll wait to post this just in case. Just how you gave me no warning that you don't care for me. I'll give you none when we part ways.

0

Jan 29, 2017

Jan 29, 2017 at 7:44 AM UTC

QSaint

Disconcertion

You don't love me, do you? I wonder constantly. I know it. Your love is immature and selfish. I remember thinking love would be bliss. You wouldn't mourn me, would you? I watch as you do nothing as I die of stress. Do my eyes look angry, accusing? You don't help because you want to do less. I'd be far too inconvenient, wouldn't I? You watch me drown in my efforts. I fully expect you not to reach out a hand. I wonder if I could possibly think of you worse. You wouldn't spit on me if I was burning. I hate you when you are smiling, lately. I'm having premature heart attack symptoms Anxiety, stress, and PTSD are killing me I'll rip the smile off your face and the air from your lungs. I don't care that you're frustrated, lately. Or did you think empty platitudes would calm me? Tell me everything you plan to do And will I believe you? Probably not, we'll see. I'm tired of feeling like a glory hole, lately. I'll pay for your comfort and deal with your lust Nice to meet you, I contain a brain, wow! And I'll use that brain to leave you if I must. It's disconcerting to me that you make promises you break so easily. Do you read my poetry anymore? I doubt it. I'll wait to post this just in case. Just how you gave me no warning that you don't care for me. I'll give you none when we part ways.

30

I have this mad dream of getting the Ninth Symphony back onto paper. I want it to scream even louder because I put it in a cage. The cell will be overtly tone-deaf and unmusical in the most obvious of senses but will still roar without complete complacently. After which I will know that I am Man. After which I will know that I am God. After which I will know that I am Me. This is my truest and deepest ambition as a poet. Well, until tomorrow when her name comes up again: Haha!

0

Aug 11, 2015

Aug 11, 2015 at 8:10 AM UTC

tawandamulalu

Not a Poem XIX.

I have this mad dream of getting the Ninth Symphony back onto paper. I want it to scream even louder because I put it in a cage. The cell will be overtly tone-deaf and unmusical in the most obvious of senses but will still roar without complete complacently. After which I will know that I am Man. After which I will know that I am God. After which I will know that I am Me. This is my truest and deepest ambition as a poet. Well, until tomorrow when her name comes up again: Haha!

2

i could write about... coke cans & purple sin but you could just look out of your window and make up your own mind about that ….instead i'm gonna tell you about an immense tremor that might be beneath us right now about how this calm street might be flushed like a **** to somewhere a little closer to the centre of the earth o.k you've probably already thought about that anyway i don't want to be morbid and i hope we're here tomorrow (you, me & the street) then again there's a part thats curious the drive by and stare at the accident part the first finger in the last flame part the part i put in you.

0

Jun 28, 2015

Jun 28, 2015 at 3:33 PM UTC

george-henry

a......part

i could write about... coke cans & purple sin but you could just look out of your window and make up your own mind about that ….instead i'm gonna tell you about an immense tremor that might be beneath us right now about how this calm street might be flushed like a **** to somewhere a little closer to the centre of the earth o.k you've probably already thought about that anyway i don't want to be morbid and i hope we're here tomorrow (you, me & the street) then again there's a part thats curious the drive by and stare at the accident part the first finger in the last flame part the part i put in you.

26