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Sadie Aug 2015
We don't know where we're going,
or what we're doing.
We don't know what happens next
or if we make it.
We don't know if we die
or if we keep fighting.
Sometimes there isn't much of anything.
Life is anticlimatic.
That's it.
That's just it.
Life is anticlimatic.
Copyright @ Sadie Whitney
Aditi Apr 2017
All these pieces and not enough space to hold them all
All these guilts and no one to confess them to
All these words and no poet around to marvel
All these potentials and no motivation to fulfill them.

All these sadness and not enough time to carve them into art
All these emptiness and this 5-9 job
All these numbness and this full blown party
All these familiar faces and not a single friend.

All these laughter and no echo of happiness from within
All these glorification and anticlimatic reality
All these walls and no windows and door to get in
All these things to hold on to and there's your memories.

All these raining and you're still caught up in a draught,
All these homes, and you'd rather lay on the road
All these pretty things, and the raw, unadulterated you
All these lingering silences, and no peace.

All these blooms and the graveyards' laments,
All these flutters of heart and the outrageous mess it makes.
Corey J Grace Feb 2012
It's the dying gasps of summer that make me think of you and I,
What we were, what we are, and why.
What is it about anger that's so hard to let go?
Seems that time is required for everything I need to know.
I'm a trip without a destination.
A jumbled mess of indecision and hesitation.
Its this simmering summer heat that makes me think.
Am I to be another fogotten youth seeking solace in a drink?
Sitting in a bar drowning sorrows I've never had.
Watching life race past my window pretending that I'm sad.
I found you in every place I'd never look.
With you caution is another lesson that never took.
Theres that feeling again, you can feel it in the breeze.
It's the kind of feeling that might bring your whole world to its knees.
It's in my head now, it will spend the whole night there.
I could fight it, but it'd be like fighting empty air.
There's this sense of loss I just can't shake.
It keeps me up all night and is with me when I wake.
Loss of something in the deepest part of me.
I need something back so desperately.
Like a step that should be, but isn't.
I am trapped in this self made prison.
All my words are gone, like snow in the heat.
Every attempt is broken and incomplete.
It used to be easy solace in these melodies.
Now only the stretching silence of memories.
It's winter now, all is dead or dying.
Hope is just a bridge I keep buying.
Stoically you stay though things look grim.
Silently you wait to see if I'll sink or swim.
I have become too abstract and static.
A slow, slow build to the anticlimatic.
Even dark and uncertain as it may seem.
I know I need you and everything you mean.
It's the creeping hint of spring that make me thing of you and I.
What we will be, what we've become, and why.
What is it about love that's just impossible to know?
Seems that time is all we need to grow.
AavelinaJaden May 2014
"recklessness" does not mean throwing yourself in front of a bus nor does it describe how i feel about you.
how your aura says stop, like the red light i never should've ran
you were once my princess to protect now youre a scratch on my shining armor that refuses to buff, yet id still climb to the top of the highest tower to watch your chest rest and fall in rythmatic sleep, step by step, round and round, losing my breathe in the anticlimatic atmosphere hoping you still could be found
Walt disney once said "the more you like yourself, the less you are like anyone else, which makes you unique" well tinkerbell never left peter, nor did belle leave the beast, so whats makes you think you can leave me
we're not ken and barbie, this is real life, with real thoughts and real people, leave the plastic realm behind, face your problems
you were always best a throwing phones and slamming doors, i never thought i'd be locked on the other side while everything crashed into bits and pieces, like my heart
you tied my heart to an anchor now im drowning in false childhood memories.
MY HEAD WAS A HOT AIR BALLOON THAT YOU FILLED WITH DECEITS , MY MIND WAS A KITE YOU CUT WITH YOUR WHIPLIKE SHARP TONGUE TELLING ME YOUD ALWAYS BE HERE
YOURE NOT MUCH OF A ROLE MODEL, THE ONLY THING YOU EVER TAUGHT ME WAS HOW TO GIVE IN AND WALK OUT BUT ******* IT I LOVE YOU ANYWAY
I MISS YOU LIKE THE SNOW MISSES THE SUN ON A COLD WINTERS DAY AND HOW THE BEACH LOVES THE SALTY OASIS AND I SWEAR THERE WILL COME A DAY THAT YOU WILL COME BACK TO ME BECAUSE WE'RE TWO ******* HALVES OF THE SAME SOUL
coping
spam IG user @rinnyreckless because im determined to make her read this.
(sister)
Avery Glows Jun 2018
I want you to know that
no matter how
                irrational
                                  ­illogical
             dissociated
                                 disconnected
                 sporadic
                                 scattered
                    erratic
                           ­      brusque
          anticlimatic
                                 abrupt
        idiosyncratic
                                 volatile
   temperamental
                            and
                   ­               fickle
are your emotions.
To me,
they are valid;
they are whole;
they suffice.
Because,
you are only as absurd as you believe you are.

And absurdity's boundaries stretches linearly,
into immemorial time.
2018 June
Rooted Whispers Jan 2015
Your muse was broken bone and cracked spirit but that never quite fit right, did it? Like a smoldering flame that only existed in the corner of your eye- ceasing existence when you turn posed with a bucket of water. Then one day the word atom stuck and you could feel the particles on your skin turn towards the word like the energy it resonated was a kiss from mother's familiar lips. You molded the word into cracked spirit, lonely body, lone mind, liberated soul, and finally whole woman and eventually your eyes stopped seeing gold lining and began fading and now your pen posed over paper reaches anticlimatic endings like whole bodies running towards each other in ecstacy but failing to touch. Words fall from your fingertips but without a muse they don't carry any weight. You're violating laws of physics with your massless words, dear. Loneliness, depression, loneliness, independence, loneliness, self-love, loneliness, self-doubt- how many times can you repeat words before they begin to escape the laws of meaning. A language of gibberish born from your lonely ramblings. When the universe sends you a placeholder next to your body, he will drown in your words and will have to leave to save his soul. That's the only outcome, darling.
IZ J Apr 2020
for yesterday, the day all you said was thanks.

for tomorrow, the day I'll pretend I wasn't crushed.

for next week, when I'll sew denim patches to try and hold my heart in after you ripped it out.

for next month, when I'll still be kept up at night due to the horror of the most anticlimatic rejection the world has ever seen.

for next spring, when it will have been a year and you will have forgotten.

for the future, when I'll remember all the pain

— The End —