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#toxicrelationships
The covers surround me, I'm encased in bed sheets. My pillow so wet in tears, As I drift away, To my little world. In my little world, You are there. My sweet. My beautiful. Friend? It doesn't matter what we are, As long as you're here. Recently - It's awkward. But you're still gentle. Still here. My view on you has really changed. Hasn't it? There's this small ember, A flickering, Flame of hope, Just like the one on your lighter. I cry to you. Among these serene, delicate fields. You listen. No one gets me as much as you. Is it really just forbidden love? You're not cruel, And I'm just relieved, To be trapped in your presence, In the miraculous, In the divine, I bathe in your light. But, It's all fantasy, The dread summons me, The grey pulls me out. I can't look you in the face. After that night, So I retreat, Away from your sight. You've filled my life with empty lies, Cigarette burns on my neck, They sting, Like your piercing cold stare. Once, You asked me, "what if i were the devil?" I hoped your kindness proved you wrong, Instead, You were right. I try to fill your space in my heart, Nothing fits as right, Nothing binds together, Nothing takes flight. This is my hell. You were right. In my little world, But no, Here, This is real. You're just rotten to the core. You have stabbed me in my very heart. That is when, My dear friends, I return to this little world, And hope to never return.
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May 26
May 26, 2026 at 5:38 PM UTC
My little world
Angry You push me down I get up Apologize Happy You grab my arm I hold your hand Smile Sad You cry your tears I’m there for you Comfort Proud You brag to me I pat you on the back Congratulate Calm You sit down I sit with you Relief
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May 13
May 13, 2026 at 11:18 PM UTC
Emotions
You’re kind of funny, you know. I wanted to stay in our home, but you said I was the one moving out— because I chose separation. You yelled at me when we tried to fix things, shouting that I should pack my things and walk away. Now you’re the one moving, asking if I want to live there. Of course not. I’m on another frequency now. And yet you want me to solve the problems with the painting— me, the one you invited to leave. Where’s your speech now? You wanted the house. So— keep the house.
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Sep 29, 2025
Sep 29, 2025 at 7:32 AM UTC
Keep the House
I never wrote poems about you. No matter how hard I tried, I never could seem to make All the words flow. Maybe that was the first sign, That our love, Was never meant to be. Maybe that was the first sign, I so delicately chose, Not to read.
0
Sep 1, 2025
Sep 1, 2025 at 4:20 PM UTC
The Red Flags and the Words Left Unwritten
You called me crazy, tired of my love. But when I was gone, my madness was the first thing you missed.
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Oct 21, 2025
Oct 21, 2025 at 5:30 PM UTC
Madness
Dear—tell me, do you really think he loves you? Until you appeared out of nowhere, he was still trying to reconcile with me. So no, don’t believe him so easily. You are more of a filler, a patch for the void. He might post your photos on Instagram, call you family— but you’ve been with him for a month. I was there for seven years. He won’t get over me that fast. He’s replacing one love with another. But maybe you’re just a convenient body to take to the gym. So, my dear, face reality: he doesn’t love you that much.
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Oct 2, 2025
Oct 2, 2025 at 11:23 AM UTC
Dear, He Doesn’t Love You That Much
He took you to meet his family. He runs with you on Sunday mornings. He drives you around the city in a car that, though he pays the bills, still carries my name. All these things he once did with me. He is suffering, darling. I left. I carved a hole, a void in his life. And desperate, he found you. Same body type, same skin, same hair. The difference is— you are older. And they say older women don’t have patience for younger boys. I hope he doesn’t give you too much trouble.
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Oct 20, 2025
Oct 20, 2025 at 11:22 AM UTC
I Left a Void
Has he already told you to stop nagging? Has he already said, “Don’t start”? Has he already begun his ritual of silence after a fight— two days without a word, without looking at you? Worse still, if you’re living under the same roof. He told me he was moving out, asked if I wanted to live in our old apartment. But he already knows I’m somewhere else, living another life. So I think he only wanted to stir up conversation, to awaken some kind of concern in me.
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Oct 19, 2025
Oct 19, 2025 at 10:16 AM UTC
He Already Started
Crying is part of it. So is regret. And yes—if it could **** I’d already be dead. But by my own hand, not because he destroyed me. (I wouldn’t give him that pleasure.)
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Aug 11, 2025
Aug 11, 2025 at 1:10 PM UTC
I Wouldn’t Give Him That Pleasure
Because you never ask or say anything Can’t you see I’m suffering? I’m a nobody to you Well, at least in the end I’m feeling something— anger
0
Aug 11, 2025
Aug 11, 2025 at 9:58 AM UTC
A Nobody
in my writing anyone can tell i'm a fraud just a painter trying their hand at a new form composition swapped for sentence structure, verses on pages where watercolors on canvases once laid in your writing i can tell you're a fraud you put words into your mouth, hope people believe them yours when they spill out a performative emotional ventriloquist waiting for applause i used to think writers romanticize and painters show, after all you were my frame of reference when it came to poetry but I’ve since learned you’re just not truly a writer I put down the pencil and picked up the ink and hey i'm not half bad but you’re not half good i tried to speak your language not realizing you didn’t know it either kept handing you words you could rewrite into warnings come to think of it you never tried to speak mine, never tried to translate me, never grabbed charcoal and maybe it's for the better, you would have smudged it around to cover up who i am you mime meaning and call it understanding, i was wrong in mistaking your performance for presence maybe you being a **** writer wasn't all bad, if it kept me from the monster you actually believed i am maybe you being a **** writer is why i too fell in love with the version of me you crafted, she’s a little less ruined the more i look back the more things i notice, more things to write about like how your poems were never directed at me, i was not the audience you were pandering too because you knew you already had me hooked, no, instead you wrote to another public, I was a character in your songs you could show off, let people pick and **** made me into a myth, a tale parents tell their kids to scare them into sleep you were my muse and the person i was trying to reach with my strokes not realizing there was no heart to reach for so i write now and you still don't paint, if you did i think you’d be bad at it anyway you’d hate cubism, seeing more than one perspective seems to fracture your mind and you’d find a way to romanticize it all, put reality aside you never were good at taking things at face value, even worse at translating and encompassing things bigger than you I was the stars but knowing you, you’d just paint a blank black sky, add your own galaxies to and call it a piece worth while either way i still write, usually about you, always directed at you i find new words and try to rewrite the story you told, but if i ever show the public I’ll be sure to make it an illustrated book with all the imagery i know you can't paint
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Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 5:02 PM UTC
you're no artist, no lover
in my writing anyone can tell i'm a fraud just a painter trying their hand at a new form composition swapped for sentence structure, verses on pages where watercolors on canvases once laid in your writing i can tell you're a fraud you put words into your mouth, hope people believe them yours when they spill out a performative emotional ventriloquist waiting for applause i used to think writers romanticize and painters show, after all you were my frame of reference when it came to poetry but I’ve since learned you’re just not truly a writer I put down the pencil and picked up the ink and hey i'm not half bad but you’re not half good i tried to speak your language not realizing you didn’t know it either kept handing you words you could rewrite into warnings come to think of it you never tried to speak mine, never tried to translate me, never grabbed charcoal and maybe it's for the better, you would have smudged it around to cover up who i am you mime meaning and call it understanding, i was wrong in mistaking your performance for presence maybe you being a **** writer wasn't all bad, if it kept me from the monster you actually believed i am maybe you being a **** writer is why i too fell in love with the version of me you crafted, she’s a little less ruined the more i look back the more things i notice, more things to write about like how your poems were never directed at me, i was not the audience you were pandering too because you knew you already had me hooked, no, instead you wrote to another public, I was a character in your songs you could show off, let people pick and **** made me into a myth, a tale parents tell their kids to scare them into sleep you were my muse and the person i was trying to reach with my strokes not realizing there was no heart to reach for so i write now and you still don't paint, if you did i think you’d be bad at it anyway you’d hate cubism, seeing more than one perspective seems to fracture your mind and you’d find a way to romanticize it all, put reality aside you never were good at taking things at face value, even worse at translating and encompassing things bigger than you I was the stars but knowing you, you’d just paint a blank black sky, add your own galaxies to and call it a piece worth while either way i still write, usually about you, always directed at you i find new words and try to rewrite the story you told, but if i ever show the public I’ll be sure to make it an illustrated book with all the imagery i know you can't paint
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40
the ghost of my devotion stood on trial for you, role of lawyer in place of victim taken in stride, in strife i stood by your side fighting for your name while you tore mine down in exchange i pleaded to the court not realizing the judge and jury had my face self defense, i claimed pointed to the scratch on your chest i had left the one from trying to reach for your heart, the one for which a bandaid would have been enough i remember marking you first, remember feeling criminal for it brazed for life sentence, but still kept gauze ready to treat it like a bleeding artery there was so much blood in my hands i mistook for yours drips down my wrists dry and forgotten, blood i recognize now as my own i hurt you and you killed me, made it look like my own doing all is fair in love and war. was my excuse i think they’re one, the way they wound, inevitably my argument fell apart when the accusant lawyer came forth with the autopsy and sad eyes strikingly like my own blunt force trauma, mismatched gashes and cuts post mortem wounds, bruising all over what you did to the body, after the fact, that was irredeemable your cruelty kicked and punched, a trail of evidence of hatred undeniably left behind
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Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 4:54 PM UTC
love me legally
He picked up the fruit, mistook the shine for something familiar Thought the crimson red meant safety a comfort food he remembered from childhood Hungry and eager, tongue sliding over lips he popped it into his mouth biting down hard expecting raspberries’ familiar flood But the sound of something breaking met him instead A tooth chipped on the cherry pit It was a cherry after all Starvation had blurred his sight He thought I was soft, sweetness of an old friend But I was never raspberries He just never looked long enough to know The illusion shattered in his mouth iron taste instead of tartness He spat it out, blood and juices mingling bone and pit, both broken, indistinguishable now He walked away, changed but not beyond repair red-stained hands already reaching for another low-hanging fruit too desperate to clean before, too desperate to care, too starved to seek fruit he might like more The cherry lay behind, torn and spent pit smashed, flesh split wide In time, the earth will cover it The water will nurture what remains Years will pass, roots will sprout The cherry blossom will rise strong again And in the branches more cherries will grow sweeter than they ever were before
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Jun 25, 2025
Jun 25, 2025 at 4:49 PM UTC
raspberries
I was handed fists for as long as I can remember. My curiosity—squashed with screams. I didn’t learn the alphabet— it was beaten into my ribs. I didn’t hold hands. But their grip was tight enough to remind me I’d never leave. I’ve been property since conception, just signed over with a new lease. My tears were never wiped— they were smacked off my face. You must swallow all emotion or you're a disgrace. I was to speak when spoken to and never out of turn. What happens at home stays at home and no one else should learn. It wasn't a phase mom- daughters marry men like their dads. Though I came pre-etched in rules there was a new ruler to be had. I was handed fists, my whole life, disguised as loving encouragement to be better. How was I to know you don't have to yell to show passion?
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Jun 10, 2025
Jun 10, 2025 at 9:18 AM UTC
Love is not Meant to be Painful
You put on your glassy mask So I'll only see The version of yourself You contrived for me. You slip on your suffocating shoes So you can walk on Like you're not gasping for air, And nothing is wrong. You tie up your hair tightly So you can pretend You're that pretty little girl again With those once loyal friends. You slide up your dejected glasses So I can't see your bleeding scars Hiding behind the facade— I don't know who you really are.
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Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025 at 9:05 PM UTC
A Stranger Who Holds My Hand
Does a thick woman ever feel her patience wearing thin, while her man wears a beard, ready to take her every mood by the chin? He’s dating a girl named Erin, who hates it when he cuts his hair, and runs errands. She made him ink a tattoo on his neck, declaring, “property of Erin’s,” then she decided to shave her head, but she's now wearing a wig— _a real bold choice._ While her man is plagued by countless voices, but he himself, doesn’t have much of a voice. She swiftly cleans up her act for the public eye – _she's a minute maid,_ with a juicy figure that could turn any man to pulp; and she’s also self-made. And he’s like an empire of ants, bearing more than his own weight. But he’s not much of a saint, his mischief thrives when she’s far away, and it can never wait. He keeps a side piece as a thought to chew on, always clearing off his plate. They picture a relationship, but lack the means to truly relate – just a ship; claiming they’re on the same boat; _being each other’s bait._ “Plenty of fish in the sea,” but they leave hooks in one another, after they hook up. Never pausing to Google for their worth; it’s right there, just look up– to the writing on the wall. "We’re all crumbling on each other"; if these walls could speak. As countless feet trample on each other’s toes, in these crowded streets of Love, we seek. Paved in toxicity – a toxic city, where toxic lovers inhale toxic fumes. Easily fuming when being called out; the headlines of these daily romances, all spell bad news.
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Apr 14, 2025
Apr 14, 2025 at 4:10 AM UTC
Toxic relationships
Does a thick woman ever feel her patience wearing thin, while her man wears a beard, ready to take her every mood by the chin? He’s dating a girl named Erin, who hates it when he cuts his hair, and runs errands. She made him ink a tattoo on his neck, declaring, “property of Erin’s,” then she decided to shave her head, but she's now wearing a wig— _a real bold choice._ While her man is plagued by countless voices, but he himself, doesn’t have much of a voice. She swiftly cleans up her act for the public eye – _she's a minute maid,_ with a juicy figure that could turn any man to pulp; and she’s also self-made. And he’s like an empire of ants, bearing more than his own weight. But he’s not much of a saint, his mischief thrives when she’s far away, and it can never wait. He keeps a side piece as a thought to chew on, always clearing off his plate. They picture a relationship, but lack the means to truly relate – just a ship; claiming they’re on the same boat; _being each other’s bait._ “Plenty of fish in the sea,” but they leave hooks in one another, after they hook up. Never pausing to Google for their worth; it’s right there, just look up– to the writing on the wall. "We’re all crumbling on each other"; if these walls could speak. As countless feet trample on each other’s toes, in these crowded streets of Love, we seek. Paved in toxicity – a toxic city, where toxic lovers inhale toxic fumes. Easily fuming when being called out; the headlines of these daily romances, all spell bad news.
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23
You have damaged me very badly Ensuring that I hate you madly You have caused me a lot of emotional trauma By being a queen of sheer drama You pretended to love me as a friend Instead, did you trap me in a toxic bond! You have damaged me very badly Because, you were only after my money You are much worse than an enemy Because, never did you truly want me to be happy You have caused my self-esteem to crash For that, you, should God punish!! You have damaged me very badly And may be thinking coolly That you are now going to have a great life But I warn you, you are going to be in strife You will get divorced soon And find yourself alone Ignored by almost everyone Finally, will you know then What it means, to be betrayed By someone you dearly trusted Well, now I totally hate you But I will eventually forgive you Only because of my love for Jesus And then I will finally find my inner peace But you will never find yours Goodbye and good riddance!!
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Apr 5, 2025
Apr 5, 2025 at 11:38 AM UTC
You Have Damaged Me Very Badly
People warned me, turned against me, said I was a fool. Yet you I trusted but now that's busted. Still my love overrules And I don't wanna **** something so divine. Who knew I could have so much love inside? Even through all the suffering, for you I’d still give anything. You’ve turned my care into a curse, my offer of aid into a disgrace. You're always messing with my mind, sabotaged all I tried to rebuild. Now I lie in bed alone clinging to all you left me. I still look for your attention and I have cried so much over your wandering affection, over how I miss your touch. Tell me how can I move on when I’ve loved you so wholly? But I don't wanna **** something so divine. Highly doubt I could even if I tried. I’ve held on so tightly though it’d suffocate me. But even through all the suffering, for you I would do anything.
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Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 7:21 PM UTC
Painful Divinity
I promised you I would always stay, swore on a bond I thought would never break. Then there came a time everything conflict but I meant every word, every bit of it. I can still remember myself say That I’m with you, all the way. I held on so tightly, refusing to let go, my heart cracking wildly with every push-pull. I found myself drowning in all that I know, but I’m not one for giving up. No, I stay faithful... I do everything that I can to lift you up. I give anything without ever planning to stop. And then for a moment, when I’m left alone with my dreams, a voice pipes up asking, what about these? And what about me? I march and stagger onward, far under the stars Carrying the weight of two broken, battered relationships and a big heavy heart that’s covered with scars. Who ever knew it would come to this? Vengeful memories haunt me in the night And I pray all this pain and suffering will finally subside, Yet for you I’ll still stand strong. Even worn out, I’ll keep holding on. Yes I’ll BURN alight in hopes of winning your fight.
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Feb 22, 2025
Feb 22, 2025 at 12:37 PM UTC
Keeping My Promise
Why do you do this?   Twist my choices until they vanish,   your words, soft but cruel, carving into my flesh,   each one deeper, more suffocating than the last.   You blackmail me with your pain,   threats hanging like nooses, slowly tightening around my neck.   You said you’d end everything,   if I didn’t surrender to your darkness.   Do you even see me,   not as your shattered reflection,   but as someone slowly being erased,   drowning in a life I can’t escape?   I know you're sinking,   but why drag me down with you,   burying me beneath your weight?   I need you to hear me—   to release me before I’m lost entirely,   because if you can’t,   I’ll break, and you’ll have killed me too.
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Dec 28, 2024
Dec 28, 2024 at 10:50 AM UTC
I’ll break, and you’ll have killed me too
don’t say you love me, not when i have the flesh pieces of my own heart stuck between my teeth after you shoved it back into me. when will i learn that i cannot force someone to let me love them? when will i learn that just because i feel the chest-caving need to save someone, doesn’t mean i should?
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Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 4:02 AM UTC
1105
it feels like a cruelly sick sense of humor, a twisted joke and i’m the punchline. how does one explain the irony, the contradiction of running from you yet chasing after you all at once? i’m chasing down your memory and the what ifs like malt liquor, it burns my throat and i mistake it for your hands only for the taste to settle in and i push two fingers down my throat because i need to purge you out but i should have known its not like that, you arent food, but i’ll try anyways because your residue is haunting me but i can’t help but keep visiting your grave.
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Nov 5, 2024
Nov 5, 2024 at 4:03 AM UTC
i’ll leave flowers at your grave (you’re allergic)
I’m hiding, Yes, I’m hiding, Been locked in here for twenty, maybe more, Trying to fix the mess that I carry to the core. Everyone’s in the living room, Laughing, dancing to some happy tune. But me? I’m stuck in this silent space, A crowded house, but I’m lost in my own place. I’m trapped in this maze, my mind’s own maze, A prisoner of these long, lonely days. Silent screams that no one hears, Louder than the laughter just beyond here. I’m here, but I’m gone, present but erased, A crowded house, but I’ve lost my place. They’ve shown me love, or so they claim, But behind my back, I hear my name. Whispers slither like snakes through the cracks, I know they act, just keeping me intact. They smile wide, but their eyes are dry, Maybe they care, or they don’t—but it’s all a lie. Knock Knock “Hey, you alright?” “Erm, I’ll be out soon, give me a sec, it’s alright…” But is it really? ‘Cause I’m tired, truly tired, Of fighting fires and battling demons dancing in my head, Of faking smiles when I feel dead. Every relationship falls like the one before, Each one shattered my heart like glass. I’ve given all, there’s nothing left to give, Now, I just exist, but don’t know how to live. They think I’m fine, that I’m still the same, The happy boy, the bright-eyed flame. The one who danced, who laughed, who shone, Who carried the weight of the world like it was his own. But the truth is, now, I’m shattered, split, and splintered, Like a mirror that has been dropped, And every time I pick it up, the pieces never lock. Once a sunbeam, now just smoke, A fading laugh, a forgotten joke. See, I used to be the boy who bubbled with joy, Now I’m the man that misery employs. I’m the punchline to jokes never told, I’m the shadow that hides in the bold. I used to shine, used to soar, Now I’m just trying to survive the war. Bright smiles buried beneath the grime, The clock keeps ticking, but I’m out of time. They’re waiting for me to come cut the cake, But how can I slice when it’s all just fake? I’m hiding in here, plotting an escape, Maybe I’ll slip through that window, leave no trace, Run to a place I’ve never known, But even there, this weight’s my own. What do I want? I don’t even know, Love? Maybe? But trust? It won’t grow. It’s like carrying mountains on my back, All this baggage from scars. Knock Knock “You coming out?” Yeah… I guess I’ll go out. Put on the smiley mask. Open the door, And I shout— “Heeeyyyy! Let’s turn it up, let’s shout!” They cheer, they dance, think I’m alright, But in this mask, I’m not here.
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Oct 22, 2024
Oct 22, 2024 at 10:16 PM UTC
Hiding
I’m hiding, Yes, I’m hiding, Been locked in here for twenty, maybe more, Trying to fix the mess that I carry to the core. Everyone’s in the living room, Laughing, dancing to some happy tune. But me? I’m stuck in this silent space, A crowded house, but I’m lost in my own place. I’m trapped in this maze, my mind’s own maze, A prisoner of these long, lonely days. Silent screams that no one hears, Louder than the laughter just beyond here. I’m here, but I’m gone, present but erased, A crowded house, but I’ve lost my place. They’ve shown me love, or so they claim, But behind my back, I hear my name. Whispers slither like snakes through the cracks, I know they act, just keeping me intact. They smile wide, but their eyes are dry, Maybe they care, or they don’t—but it’s all a lie. Knock Knock “Hey, you alright?” “Erm, I’ll be out soon, give me a sec, it’s alright…” But is it really? ‘Cause I’m tired, truly tired, Of fighting fires and battling demons dancing in my head, Of faking smiles when I feel dead. Every relationship falls like the one before, Each one shattered my heart like glass. I’ve given all, there’s nothing left to give, Now, I just exist, but don’t know how to live. They think I’m fine, that I’m still the same, The happy boy, the bright-eyed flame. The one who danced, who laughed, who shone, Who carried the weight of the world like it was his own. But the truth is, now, I’m shattered, split, and splintered, Like a mirror that has been dropped, And every time I pick it up, the pieces never lock. Once a sunbeam, now just smoke, A fading laugh, a forgotten joke. See, I used to be the boy who bubbled with joy, Now I’m the man that misery employs. I’m the punchline to jokes never told, I’m the shadow that hides in the bold. I used to shine, used to soar, Now I’m just trying to survive the war. Bright smiles buried beneath the grime, The clock keeps ticking, but I’m out of time. They’re waiting for me to come cut the cake, But how can I slice when it’s all just fake? I’m hiding in here, plotting an escape, Maybe I’ll slip through that window, leave no trace, Run to a place I’ve never known, But even there, this weight’s my own. What do I want? I don’t even know, Love? Maybe? But trust? It won’t grow. It’s like carrying mountains on my back, All this baggage from scars. Knock Knock “You coming out?” Yeah… I guess I’ll go out. Put on the smiley mask. Open the door, And I shout— “Heeeyyyy! Let’s turn it up, let’s shout!” They cheer, they dance, think I’m alright, But in this mask, I’m not here.
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68
You made me feel lonely What you did was very ugly I loved you and you cheated on me In fact, you BETRAYED me Because of you, did I go into depression Very very wrong, were your actions Thanks to them, greatly did I suffer For me, not even one bit did you care! You made me feel lonely I thought you were lovely How cruelly did you prove me wrong My suffering was quite long You drove a wedge into my heart And tore it apart!! You made me feel lonely And treated me very badly Thanks to you, did my self-belief shatter Because, you struck at my very core Sending shockwaves all over my soul And effectively trapping me in a prison cell!! You made me feel lonely While you played a game coolly Trying to destroy my relationships With my family and my best friend And trapping me in a toxic relationship Which seemed as if it would never end!! You made me feel lonely But I came back strongly Thanks to my sister and my best friend To your twisted games, did they put an end You tried to break me But my goodness set me free While you will eternally feel guilty For your treachery and infidelity Yes, you made me feel lonely indeed However, from the trauma have I recovered And learnt a lesson for life Goodbye forever, my "poor little" ex-wife!!
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Sep 14, 2024
Sep 14, 2024 at 1:07 PM UTC
You Made Me Feel Lonely
The small red balloon is very fragile. It has already been hurt and weakened, and is wary. It does not trust other balloons, or any objects for that matter. It already has opened up in the past, and it did not end well. The small red balloon does not trust others. However, one day, it let a small pin join it. The small pin hurt the balloon. It felt like a sharp stab to the back. However, the balloon couldn’t live without it. It knew so. It had to be true. If the red balloon was separated from the pin, it would air out. It doesn’t want that. Over the next few months, the balloon and the pin grew closer. Even if it pained the balloon, it did not want to hurt the pin, Even if the pin hurts it. The balloon hated the pin so much. But it also loved it. The pin was blocking a hole in the balloon’s body. If it didn't, the balloon would die. Even so, the pin was the one who made that hole. Eventually, the pin started to grow apart from the balloon. The balloon was scared and sad. It didn't want to be alone. It couldn’t be alone. It knew it would be its end. One day, the pin started to speak about another balloon. A green one. That hurt the balloon. A lot. Eventually, the pin left the balloon. The balloon couldn't take it. It was slowly dying. It tried to patch the gap in itself, but in vain. No matter how many band-aids it used, it kept growing. Each time it saw the pin and the green balloon together, it hurt. But it also felt bad for the green balloon. It knew the same would happen to it. It tried to warn it, but was pushed away. Eventually, the red balloon was no more. All of its helium had long left. All that remained was an empty husk. It couldn’t even float anymore. Meanwhile, its contents floated up. They reached the heavens, and remained there. Even as their body was dying, they were peaceful. They knew the pin would never get to them here. Even though they missed others back down, They were happy. But even if it pained them, they missed the pin as well. Even after all it did to them, They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They…
0
Apr 25, 2024
Apr 25, 2024 at 11:28 AM UTC
"The red balloon."
The small red balloon is very fragile. It has already been hurt and weakened, and is wary. It does not trust other balloons, or any objects for that matter. It already has opened up in the past, and it did not end well. The small red balloon does not trust others. However, one day, it let a small pin join it. The small pin hurt the balloon. It felt like a sharp stab to the back. However, the balloon couldn’t live without it. It knew so. It had to be true. If the red balloon was separated from the pin, it would air out. It doesn’t want that. Over the next few months, the balloon and the pin grew closer. Even if it pained the balloon, it did not want to hurt the pin, Even if the pin hurts it. The balloon hated the pin so much. But it also loved it. The pin was blocking a hole in the balloon’s body. If it didn't, the balloon would die. Even so, the pin was the one who made that hole. Eventually, the pin started to grow apart from the balloon. The balloon was scared and sad. It didn't want to be alone. It couldn’t be alone. It knew it would be its end. One day, the pin started to speak about another balloon. A green one. That hurt the balloon. A lot. Eventually, the pin left the balloon. The balloon couldn't take it. It was slowly dying. It tried to patch the gap in itself, but in vain. No matter how many band-aids it used, it kept growing. Each time it saw the pin and the green balloon together, it hurt. But it also felt bad for the green balloon. It knew the same would happen to it. It tried to warn it, but was pushed away. Eventually, the red balloon was no more. All of its helium had long left. All that remained was an empty husk. It couldn’t even float anymore. Meanwhile, its contents floated up. They reached the heavens, and remained there. Even as their body was dying, they were peaceful. They knew the pin would never get to them here. Even though they missed others back down, They were happy. But even if it pained them, they missed the pin as well. Even after all it did to them, They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They loved it. They…
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