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 Oct 2019 Robbie on Drums
No one has ever fought for me.
That wound is so deep
it scares me.
Maybe that’s why I push people away.
To find out who will come back.
Copyright © 2019 Mariah Simpson All Rights Reserved
 Oct 2019 Robbie on Drums
You will never read this,
never know these words exist
and that's exactly why
I wanted to tell you
right here that
I cried for you.
Last night, walking
through a pitch dark park
past other lonely souls,
tear after tear
I cried.
Because I felt
Because I wanted to
fall back in your arms
but knew
I never ever
last night a guy broke my heart right after telling me how comfortable he's around me and that he hasn't had this feeling for quiet a while now. but that was it.
There's this joke
I forget how it goes.
No wait, its life.
Everyone laughs until we die.

Nothing is funnier than
My desperation to heal.
Forever damaged, trying
To cover my wounds like
A piece of alluminum foil
Too small to reach the edges
Of the bowl.

Ripping and tearing,
Falling apart. Caged in
A tank. Swimming with sharks.
Why am i alive? To feel this pain
It seems. Its the only thing
that feels real to me.
I want you
to set your throat ablaze
and yell as loud as you can.

you are
to be angry.

I want you
to sing
as we burn
our                                               problems
to ashes.
As a human, it is instinct to be kind. However, you can get loud. Get mad.
 Oct 2019 Robbie on Drums
Why do you text me?
Why do you hide behind the screen to express your emotions?
Come to me,
And let me see that beautiful mouth of yours move
For I love the sound that comes from it
Let me see your eyes light up
For I love the life in them
Let me hear your sweet, angelic voice
pour honey into my ears
Let me see,
Come to me,
Don’t hide from me.
I wonder,
when my goodbye is stamped on your heart
will you then look back with heavy eyes and say,
"oh, that must have been love."
 Oct 2019 Robbie on Drums
I've written about it so many times
but my pain is still invisible,
wrapped up in beautiful words.
I wish someone would rip them apart,
revealing the cruelty of it all.
But still i'm standing here
dressed in a blanket of suffering,
trying to turn it into something beautiful,
but i've run out of ideas.
I'm trying to make you notice me,
lying in the arms of solitude,
naked, scared and worn.
I feel so vulnerable even thinking about it.
My only way to speak about it is poetry
and i've already said everything,
I'm only repeating myself.
But it's in vain,
comfort's still out of reach.
And everything
Had happened
The way they promised
It wouldn’t.
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