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#unsettled
Sat for dinner, let’s have a meal I’m gazing left and right, The goal's to avoid eye contact. Swallowing, The taste is alright but I can’t hold a fight. That masterly delivery - A simmered misery, Served daily. Cooking the exact words to belittle My stomach grows humble. /// Parents, I’d like to be brave but I bury In spite of my age I hurry.
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Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 4:17 PM UTC
let's go home
Unsettling feelings settle in, Distraction without cause. A million plans of what to do. Overwhelmed, I pause. Minutes become hours, And fast turn into days. Days drift into many years, Evidenced by the greys. Trapped inside this vivid dream, Broken, Sad, Forlorn. Finding peace with moonlight's kiss, Hating hopeless dawn. 'It all gets better in the end', Simply, I don't buy it. Stifled deep within my heart, This haunting disquiet.
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Apr 10, 2025
Apr 10, 2025 at 8:44 PM UTC
Disquiet
The things held up and dangle down are the things that often hang around don’t tie high your hopes in bids and byes let loose the noose and find your ground
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Apr 9, 2022
Apr 9, 2022 at 8:37 AM UTC
Highly Strung
FLASH "the exposure looks kinda funny" "maybe just adjust the aperture a bit" "add in the lighting" "is the white balance set?" the chair squeaks as it moves to the left the weight shifts the couch in their direction heat radiates from the family whose fake smiles are nearly as blinding as the flash from the camera despite the tripod, the camera sits off kilter like the uneasy tension in the room it feels hot--no, sweltering unsettled emotions sit like discarded mail away and out of sight CLICK "Okay, we're good" and the family heads off in their separate ways with no goodbyes for the others
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May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 1:01 AM UTC
picturesque (2/4)
. Aimlessly wandering    with a feeling of agitation,       caught somewhere between          browsing with interest             and prowling with intent. Distressed and unsettled    like anticipating trauma,       mooching with an emotion          that something is imminent             yet its nature remains veiled. The horizontal line defines a stability and yet, it has started to list off to one side. Tiny perforations promise fragmented logic by osmosis revealing the storm implied. The tap of excitable energy is dripping slow threatening balance with a flood rip tide. Empathy walks with the expectant father pacing and coils of despair knot so deep inside. A nervous anxiety    grips psychology and waits,       caught somewhere between          bleak submissive acceptance             and stark naked panic. © Pagan Paul (22/05/18)
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May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
Unsettled
After all that time it was finally over.  I found peace with it. Then all of a sudden a warm sunny day started howling with wind and my branches were no longer still but swinging side to side Awaiting, the arrival of the storm
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Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 12:56 AM UTC
Tormenta
Unsettled, Deep inside. There isn't a place To hide. You can pretend. Oh yes, My friend. **But the inky night Brings fears to light.**
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Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 11:58 AM UTC
Unsettled
Keep things where they settle. Settled. It settled there, so keep it there. Wrapped. It's wrapped there, in bubble wrap; Placed in the box, very carefully. Bubble wrap fits nicely in boxes. The pretty box is labeled: “DO NOT DISTURB. DO NOT TOUCH.” Don't open Pandora's box. "I won't." Just a little touch... She slips and it blasts open. The wind billows throughout the room, knocking her off her feet. Torn pieces of paper dance in the gusts of wind and settle, placing themselves in a circle around her. She's wrapped up in words unseen, unheard. Unsettled. Keep things where they settle.
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Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC
Pandora's Box
How could I forget?          I was surrounded, confused,         Overwhelmed, infused.         Every waking moment,         I breathed for you.         I breathed Because of you.         Everything I would do,         It was challenging, it was new,         It was with you.              How could I forget?         You made the hairs on the back of my neck stand,         Constant butterflies and a shiver ran,         Through my spine,         Disc to disc,         Wish for wish,          I wouldn't take back any of it.              How could I forget?         Sentimental. Empty bottles I kept.         Theres only one I held onto I regret,         Keeping it bottled up to the brim.         I'm volatile. Low boiling point.         I'm missing something that needs,         To be filled like an empty bookcase,         But I find books hard to read.          Why can't I seem to be at peace?          Why am I tormented by my past feelings,          When i try to go asleep?
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Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 8:31 AM UTC
How could I forget?
i like to start off poems with a sort of unsettled sometimes because the absence of strict time progression seems more abstract. but maybe i with my broken keys stuck without caps lock should maybe realize that seeming more abstract isn't the point. i like to start off poems with a sort of unsettled sometimes because i can't immediately come to grips with the sort of starry wording i need to describe the way the constellations align in my heart, only sometimes all the time
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Aug 26, 2015
Aug 26, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
unsettled
.              **the future is...a tornado of uncertain-           ty• a swirling vortex, in its centre is me•such power and speed, can ne- ver see•can never foretell, it's hid-   den debris•like clockwork, it will            make contact•by the second, bra-         cing for next impact•the past is...         yet another•wild winds that echo            my mistakes as reminder•this twis-                ter within...tearing with no remo-                rse•destroying confident strong-              holds, breaking feebly boarded            doors•can't ease the rage...eat-     en from the inside•won't stop until...my beating heart had         died•the present is...only this      frail little body•fighting huge  battles that come incessantly     •fending off the future, con-             taining the past•not know-             ing how long.......this disas-        ter would last•but I'm still          here.....still holding integ-             rity......•still fighting this        war waged in history's         folly•will i be settl- ed? will the winds ever abate?• will i ever       come to     terms...? will i ever     acc-           ept                      fa                        t                e              ?              •**
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Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
Tornado
.              **the future is...a tornado of uncertain-           ty• a swirling vortex, in its centre is me•such power and speed, can ne- ver see•can never foretell, it's hid-   den debris•like clockwork, it will            make contact•by the second, bra-         cing for next impact•the past is...         yet another•wild winds that echo            my mistakes as reminder•this twis-                ter within...tearing with no remo-                rse•destroying confident strong-              holds, breaking feebly boarded            doors•can't ease the rage...eat-     en from the inside•won't stop until...my beating heart had         died•the present is...only this      frail little body•fighting huge  battles that come incessantly     •fending off the future, con-             taining the past•not know-             ing how long.......this disas-        ter would last•but I'm still          here.....still holding integ-             rity......•still fighting this        war waged in history's         folly•will i be settl- ed? will the winds ever abate?• will i ever       come to     terms...? will i ever     acc-           ept                      fa                        t                e              ?              •**
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41
I hate the night and it's untimely creations. The avalanche of loose words doused on closed eyes, begging to be assembled into flowing images or melodic alliterated sentences. Adjectives lurk under sealed eyelids. Verbs implore the body to respond. Mocking my stillness they urge limbs to act out in their name. Verses arrange and rearrange of their own accord. They ebb and flow. I'm too tired to grab them all. Why now, when I crave nothing but sleep? Why can't I conjure this brainstorm in waking hours. I grab a pen to write; semi-conscious. It all jumbles into nonsense. The dream state draws me back to act out unconscious intentions. I hate the night and all its promises; Its lyrical musings behind twitching eyelids.
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 6:26 AM UTC
-The Night-
What stands after nothing, what grows in the night? What answers the calling, what soothes untreated sight? Tonight, without knowing, know we sustained the right, here now, without crumbling, fight the dust in the mite. We'll delight in the other, never smother the fight... but when hopeless feels dopeless, always answer the cry.
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
Warpaint.
The pain intensifies. Aching, searing pain. That covers like a burning ember. It skins the heart. Tearing it apart, Into a billion pieces. This pain. Is a heartbreaker. You left me... Behind the walls, Of Hell.
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 9:28 AM UTC
Heartbreaker