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 May 2021 unnamed
Mateah
What if....
 May 2021 unnamed
Mateah
What if every little thought
That lives inside your head
Instead of hiding away in there
Was spoken out, was said?

Would you be embarrassed?
Would you hate your mouth?
Would you rather be mute
Than let the truth come out?

What if every little thing
That people thought of you
Instead of being tucked away
Was heard, was listened to?

Would you be ashamed?
Would you cover your ears?
Would you rather be deaf
Than let the truth come near?

And what if every image
That passes through your thoughts
Was freed from its prison
To roam until it rots?

Would you be disgusted?
Would you look away?
Would you rather be blind
Than see your thoughts at play?
 Aug 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Silence
 Aug 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Maybe silence is what I need
A break, away from love and greed.

An obsession of possession
And a possession of obsession.

How much longer
Before I turn deaf
In the dimming static
Of this forsaken planet.
 Aug 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Anger
 Aug 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Is it worth it to be mad;
To let myself drown in my blood?

A raging typhoon,
But only I get hurt
By the flying debris.

Why should I get mad
If it only scares others away?
I can be nice
If i want someone to return.
Being angry does nothing for me.
Strings winding,
through and around.
Sharper than knives,
Yet softer than feathers.

Wrapped around my finger,
Connecting it’s vitality.

Is the red my fate...
Or just my blood,
A friend started hinting that he likes me, but i don’t know if that’s true or it’s just my dramatic mind. I don’t even like him like that though...
 Aug 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Untitled
 Aug 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Spreading wings
And releasing feathers,
The dove flies through
A ring of flame.

The scroll of negotiation
Unscathed by the battlefield.
 Jun 2020 unnamed
Jack Savage
Passion?
You want to see Passion?

Passion is the lust I feel
watching a dew's refraction
on a petal so vibrant,
and so placed,
that it could not be placidity I feel,
But Excitement.

Passion is when you tell me
to *******,
and pull your hair
I slow down
because
I Mean It

Passion is that flooding spark,
the moment a match
becomes gas,
when I feel
invincibly
collapsed into
An Epiphany

You don't know passion.
Because if you did
You'd know it's not just a glory
I entice,
but equally
A Gore

Passion is having your heart broken,
and looking to the floor
a devastation
Wailing as you feed
your intestines back
inside of yourself
Craving forgiveness
and receiving
Futility

Passion is hearing a song
that rips you to a moment
so far away
and so irrelevant
you feel breathless,
a coward,
and that one moment
that once kept you lit
becomes something
You Can't Control

Passion,...

Passion is a curse,
a bias,
a crutch

As equal,
a gift
 Jan 2020 unnamed
Ayn
imperfection
 Jan 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Imperfection is everything.
Nothing is immaculate,
nothing is fail-safe,
some fool is always dumber
than you are smart,
so nothing is fool-proof.

In some cases,
you are finding the drop of mud
on the silvery crystalline ocean.
That is good enough,
don't hurt yourself
by yearning for more.
this poem is telling myself to stop my tomfuckery with trying to be perfect, and I hope it gets the message to anyone else who has the same troubles with this stuff as I do.
 Jan 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Unstoppable
 Jan 2020 unnamed
Ayn
Set on the tracks,
following a distant star
on a voyage to the beyond.

Sea after simmering sea,
spiteful morning dawn
after last remaining twilight,
we travel, veiled by the night.
I IDENTIFY AS A FREIGHT TRAIN THAT HAS A STOPPING DISTANCE OF OVER A MILE. (if ur gonna quote me, use prev. statement)
No, this is not a poem about trains. Jan.9.2020
 Jan 2020 unnamed
tiredkoalahugs
Why
 Jan 2020 unnamed
tiredkoalahugs
Why
Why do I always tell the lie Im fine?
Because, after a while, I may start to convince myself too...
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