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"apologise" poems
I feel the need to apologise for the way that I am. I have no control, as if I was a computer programme. I’m sorry that the slightest thing can shift my mood, I’m sorry I can be impulsive and have a bad attitude. This inappropriate anger is not intentional and I swear to god I know it’s unacceptable. My friendships are a rollercoaster, it’s practically bipolar. One second I’m all lovey dovey and the other second it will be as if you were never my buddy. This is who I am and I hate it. I’m sorry I’m like this, I’m sorry I see no bliss.
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 12:54 PM UTC
Confession
Don't think to control me I dare you, think again You want a gentle lover? I'm sorry, I am the fury Never attempt to tame me Because my flames will burn I'll strip away at your soul Careful for what you yearn I'm no gentleman from books This beast will tear you apart This lust can never be stopped Because it will take you, hard If you're looking for sweet love I apologise, that's not what I give For my punishment will be harsh I'll give you a lesson, on how to live Don't think to control me I dare you, think again You want a gentle lover? I'm sorry, I am the fury
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Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
The Fury
it's cold and dark and calm outside so you make sure that i'm tucked up tight but i need fresh air so the window is open ajar whilst there in the corner lays a battered guitar i'm high as hell so you carried me home and wrapped me up into a bed of your own you throw a lumpy mattress by the guitar on your floor and apologise in advance for the fact that you snore because i can't even remember my name may give the green light to most, to see me as 'fair game' my hair is a mess and my clothes are askew but that doesn't seem to matter to you i'm taken aback as you toss me a shirt you try to stifle your laugh but i catch you smirk as i try to escape from the clutch of my dress i hear a laugh which you fail to suppress i wrestle your shirt with my limbs in a tangle you yank it over my head, for which i am thankful i wriggle free from the blanket and sit up cross legged as you fling yourself down at the foot of your bed you tell me you've just got a text from my mother who says she trusts me with you and no other and that you are under very strict instructions to keep me away from all teenage destruction it's 1.30am and my thoughts are cotton wool but our bottle of ***** is still three quarters full my eyes spy the battered guitar in the room and i beg you to play me my favourite tune an undeniably slow start as you mess up the chords and ramble on about how i'm probably bored but my eyes fix on yours with an encouraging grin and as you continue to play, goosebumps rise on my skin and as you place the battered guitar back down you sarcastically ask whether i'm happy now the buzz of my body and the smile on my face shows that here, happiness is truly the case
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
a case of happiness
it's cold and dark and calm outside so you make sure that i'm tucked up tight but i need fresh air so the window is open ajar whilst there in the corner lays a battered guitar i'm high as hell so you carried me home and wrapped me up into a bed of your own you throw a lumpy mattress by the guitar on your floor and apologise in advance for the fact that you snore because i can't even remember my name may give the green light to most, to see me as 'fair game' my hair is a mess and my clothes are askew but that doesn't seem to matter to you i'm taken aback as you toss me a shirt you try to stifle your laugh but i catch you smirk as i try to escape from the clutch of my dress i hear a laugh which you fail to suppress i wrestle your shirt with my limbs in a tangle you yank it over my head, for which i am thankful i wriggle free from the blanket and sit up cross legged as you fling yourself down at the foot of your bed you tell me you've just got a text from my mother who says she trusts me with you and no other and that you are under very strict instructions to keep me away from all teenage destruction it's 1.30am and my thoughts are cotton wool but our bottle of ***** is still three quarters full my eyes spy the battered guitar in the room and i beg you to play me my favourite tune an undeniably slow start as you mess up the chords and ramble on about how i'm probably bored but my eyes fix on yours with an encouraging grin and as you continue to play, goosebumps rise on my skin and as you place the battered guitar back down you sarcastically ask whether i'm happy now the buzz of my body and the smile on my face shows that here, happiness is truly the case
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36
It's funny how you apologise for slight and minimal accidents, but you don't give a **** about creating explosions of Hell. You're so ironic that your names could be the definition. I'd rather you'd have accidently nudged me than destroy my every thought.
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Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
Untitled (23/3/16)
Don't look at me that way You can't always have your way No I'm not someone you slay And no you can't ask how much I weigh Don't say the place where I belong is the kitchen Just because I am a woman. Don't stare at me secretly from the window Don't think you can impress me you ****** Don't think you could ever be my shadow Always behind me trying to follow Don't think my courage can't be summoned Just because I am a woman. Don't think you can sit in the empty seat next to me in the bus What , do you think I can't create a fuss ? Don't think you can just touch me and run It shows you're scared and what makes you think you have won? Don't you think it's unfair to continue female foeticide What makes you think you're the one to decide? How is it an honour, when it is honour killing ? Why can't you be the one to understand her feelings? No , I don't think you can treat me like vermin Just because I am a woman. So how about you show us some respect And your actions , you began  to inspect And how about you treat us as your equal I'm pretty sure that is legal So how about you apologise honestly, it will be forgiven Oh yeah, that's because I am a woman.
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Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 7:14 AM UTC
Because I am a woman
I am so sorry. For every time I hurt you.. For every cruel word I’ve ever said to you.. For not seeing what you needed most.. For not being kind to you as much as everyone else.. For every tear you have wasted.. For every time I stepped on your heart.. For every time I didn’t believe in you.. For every time I didn’t listen to you. I am so sorry. For ripping you apart.. For destroying the beautiful things in you.. For always making you pay the price.. And I apologise for all the wrongdoings I caused you! Forgive this fallible human that is you. I am so sorry.
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Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 8:21 PM UTC
I am so sorry
First things first I'd like to apologise I'm sorry I'm not the good Indian girl I was bred to be I'm sorry I don't make round rotis I'm sorry that the tongue I use to speak punjabi is broken and hides in my mouth unused until desperately needed I'm sorry that I don't cook and clean efficiently enough to be wifey material Sorry that I love who I love and don't hate who I was told to Sorry that I can't follow gods blindly and not try to sneak back stage to see their shining gold adornments and blue body paints and multiple arms in full and bare glory and scandal I'm sorry that I'm actually not sorry for any of this I'm sorry that these are false and empty apologies I am unapologetically whole A human not just a race A female not a trust fund or business transaction I filter out the good parts of the culture I'm from and the ones I identify with I'll wear docs under my saari no apologies I'll grind on dancefloors and do the best Bhangra dance you'll ever see unashamedly Hareems and hoodies Bindies and pin up eyeliner Hedonism and head in the clouds My ambition is Ambedkar untouchable My drive is a salt march surging silently non violently through cities My hometown pride is built in concrete and rickshaw dust, Prejudice and Bollywood lust
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
Heritage
I know today the world celebrates you But in my heart, your festival plays all season To craft songs in your praise is honour And this wordsmith is honorable aplenty I know I'll never know the pain The way societies have pushed you when You blinded them with your radiance Now enlightened they can only apologise Justice is the cry! Tell me it is not my lone heart I do not strive to appease, it is just what every woman deserves Even if I lend my hand to just the ones close to my heart They say intelligence comes from one's experience, and wisdom from those of others' Wise I have become, so I pledge to be better than my fathers
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Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 8:29 AM UTC
A pledge to women
Why are my heroes less real than yours? I'm so **** sick of that stupid cliche "cops and soldiers, and firefighters up up and away." None of them were there for me in any way. I don't give a crap if you won't follow or if I never see a "like" or a "favorite" again. God almighty couldn't stop my pen. So why are my heroes less real then yours? Isn't god just as real as mine? So shut the hell up and get back in line. you know who was there the day I couldn't stand. Not your heroes playing wars in the sand. Not your cops, who were off killing kids. No fire here, turn a deaf ear. The ones who were there for me on that day. Was a hero in red with horns on his head. A man all in black who dressed like a bat. A solider that stood for what a nation aspires. And a immigrant from who knows where. They taught me my morals from birth this I swear. They taught me right. They taught me wrong. I don't give a **** if you think I'm wrong. I will write comics as bright as the sun. I will save worlds with words. I won't apologise, don't insult the fire in my eyes. I've never questioned to what you aspired. I never met your heroes before but I respect the story's of yours in the war. Of cops who helped kids who didn't have a dime, of firefighters saving people in time. so leave mine alone they saved plenty they have. Even if its only the life of a depressed lonely lad.
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Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 8:49 PM UTC
superheroes
My mind is full of tirades A tempest fills my brain I've lost a part of myself in love before How gullible I've been. Would you rather I pour my heart out? Spill my passion let me bleed? I apologise. **** myself in front of your eyes. Take off my mask so you can see where my vulnerability lies.
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Aug 19, 2014
Aug 19, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
Vulnerability lies
I want to apologise. Broken relationships, I shall eulogise. To those I know (or, knew); Forgive my absence when you needed a warm caress and a hug, But instead got frostbite, a torrent of snow or dew. I am sorry for drawing a sword When you were hoping for an olive branch; I can be as thorny as an all-knowing lord. I wish my heart was limitless, And my kindness infinite – I dream of love that is fearless, And of joyousness completely exquisite. Yet, that is not who I am – I can be a calm ocean or a tempest, A total commotion, or peacefully at rest. I can be enigmatic and reserved, Or, I can be charismatic, if the mood is reversed. We are not good or bad; We can be lewd and strikingly mad, Or cunningly shrewd, or maybe sad. We are the yin and the yang; We all tend to sin, to our demons we hang. We are objects of pure fascination, In constant fluctuation, A recalcitrant reconciliation. So, I will say it one more time – Look into my eyes, see through my guise. I apologise to those who had no shoulder to cry on And sought mine, when I was not there. I hope you’re fine, and that someone showered you with care.
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Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
Reconciliation
To live is the rarest thing in the world. I agree with that statement. To live means to have life or to be alive, but how many people actually do that? "Life is a crazy ride and nothing is guaranteed.", said Eminem. So many people in today's day and age have gone through situations, and almost always unexpectedly. The impact of the situation has left many of them with no zest for life, and they end up simply existing. Its pretty sad if you think about it though. Where some of us are living a zealous life, amped with motivation, others are like clouds, just drifting by, day after day. Well, I think that's the problem, I think that is to blame for so many things. People who only exist have no goals for their lives, they become negative and have no hope whatsoever. They become so pessimistic that they sometimes get the better of the optimistic. That shouldn't be happening. I can confidently say that those who live to just exist, are the most negative in our population. Everybody suffers and everybody hurts but some of us have acknowledged the fact that circumstances are temporary, so why should we let it get the better of us. Life is way too short to just go by existing. Doing that is like making food that won't get eaten or buying a phone that you won't use, its pointless. Existing instead of living is almost insulting your creator. Each of us were created for a special purpose, and merely existing is not one of those. I believe that just existing is a waste. So many of us have lost friends and Family members, that we would give anything to see again. You have a life, they don't. Make use of it. Remember that you were only give one life to live, but if you do it right, once is enough. Also, always know that if you love life, it will love you back. Living your life to the best of your ability can only ever have a positive effect on your life. You were given this life because you're strong enough to live it. Take chances. Tell the truth. Say no. Spend all your cash. Get to know someone randomn. Say I love you. Sing out loud. Laugh at stupid jokes. Cry. Apologise. Tell someone how much they mean to you. Laugh till your stomach hurts. Regret nothing. Most importantly, live life.
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Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC
Live, dont merely exist.
To live is the rarest thing in the world. I agree with that statement. To live means to have life or to be alive, but how many people actually do that? "Life is a crazy ride and nothing is guaranteed.", said Eminem. So many people in today's day and age have gone through situations, and almost always unexpectedly. The impact of the situation has left many of them with no zest for life, and they end up simply existing. Its pretty sad if you think about it though. Where some of us are living a zealous life, amped with motivation, others are like clouds, just drifting by, day after day. Well, I think that's the problem, I think that is to blame for so many things. People who only exist have no goals for their lives, they become negative and have no hope whatsoever. They become so pessimistic that they sometimes get the better of the optimistic. That shouldn't be happening. I can confidently say that those who live to just exist, are the most negative in our population. Everybody suffers and everybody hurts but some of us have acknowledged the fact that circumstances are temporary, so why should we let it get the better of us. Life is way too short to just go by existing. Doing that is like making food that won't get eaten or buying a phone that you won't use, its pointless. Existing instead of living is almost insulting your creator. Each of us were created for a special purpose, and merely existing is not one of those. I believe that just existing is a waste. So many of us have lost friends and Family members, that we would give anything to see again. You have a life, they don't. Make use of it. Remember that you were only give one life to live, but if you do it right, once is enough. Also, always know that if you love life, it will love you back. Living your life to the best of your ability can only ever have a positive effect on your life. You were given this life because you're strong enough to live it. Take chances. Tell the truth. Say no. Spend all your cash. Get to know someone randomn. Say I love you. Sing out loud. Laugh at stupid jokes. Cry. Apologise. Tell someone how much they mean to you. Laugh till your stomach hurts. Regret nothing. Most importantly, live life.
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6
This is our blitz, puppydog, I said, dragging him away from the whizzbangs echoing green and purple off shopfronts. My Chuchundra scuttled ground-bellied from fallen ******* bags spilling guts like casualties of war and hoodlums tremendous in commando gear who set off peonies and chrysanthemums before charging triumphant down alleyways. We go home. I’m happy to leave these heroes the soda from the Catherine wheels, and the drizzle, for which London has yet to apologise.
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Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 6:51 AM UTC
Fireworks
i wonder if you sometimes think of me - not the way i think of you, i know that you don't see me the way that i see you (like you're my sun and like you hung the stars, like you're the most beautiful thing i have ever seen) but i sometimes wonder if i sometimes cross your mind, i wonder if my face pops up behind your eyes, and if you wonder if that is because I've thought of you (if that saying was true, you would only be seeing me); i wonder if what you see me as, and if you know that every time i look at you, my heart wants to run away from me, i wonder if you can see it in my blush, or if my friends have told you. i wonder if you've ever thought what it would be like to be in love with me. it's all i do every day, after all, (or rather every night) to think about what we could be, when i know, deep within me, that we never could. i wonder if you sometimes think of me, or if i am as far from your mind as that one boy was from mine, the one who told me that he loved me, the one i told that you cannot love someone from afar, not truly. i have tried to apologise to him, but he has moved away, and now i am him and you are me, except you are so much more perfect than anything that i could ever be. i know you'll never think of me the way i think of you, i know that you could never love me the way that i do you, i know that you could never look at me like i am the most beautiful thing this planet has ever seen, and i know that you are an unrequited dream. but i wonder if you sometimes think of me - not the way i think of you, but just at all. for all the hope i don't allow myself, i still hope you do. cs
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Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
i wonder if you sometimes think of me
i wonder if you sometimes think of me - not the way i think of you, i know that you don't see me the way that i see you (like you're my sun and like you hung the stars, like you're the most beautiful thing i have ever seen) but i sometimes wonder if i sometimes cross your mind, i wonder if my face pops up behind your eyes, and if you wonder if that is because I've thought of you (if that saying was true, you would only be seeing me); i wonder if what you see me as, and if you know that every time i look at you, my heart wants to run away from me, i wonder if you can see it in my blush, or if my friends have told you. i wonder if you've ever thought what it would be like to be in love with me. it's all i do every day, after all, (or rather every night) to think about what we could be, when i know, deep within me, that we never could. i wonder if you sometimes think of me, or if i am as far from your mind as that one boy was from mine, the one who told me that he loved me, the one i told that you cannot love someone from afar, not truly. i have tried to apologise to him, but he has moved away, and now i am him and you are me, except you are so much more perfect than anything that i could ever be. i know you'll never think of me the way i think of you, i know that you could never love me the way that i do you, i know that you could never look at me like i am the most beautiful thing this planet has ever seen, and i know that you are an unrequited dream. but i wonder if you sometimes think of me - not the way i think of you, but just at all. for all the hope i don't allow myself, i still hope you do. cs
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30
ᗩIᑎᕼᗩᖇᗩ ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ Ainhara is standing in her Queen's room, staring at the door that leads to her chamber 'My Lady...' she thinks worried before looking at her reflection. Her mistress had surprised her a gift of a finely made dress of rose-silk, making her a flowing vision in blue. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ The dress is suitable for the bright and hot morning, light, airy and delicate with one shoulder that is heavily beaded with peacock feathers; the slit reveals her slender legs, the hip appliqued with the white lilies of her Queen's Kingdom, and simple flat shoes. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ Her fiery locks are pinned into her usual bun. It is then that she hears a gentle knock on the door which she approaches and opens. "Did you not hear the command of the Queen Mother?" Ainhara gently hisses, "Queen Lyn is not to be disturbe-" "I know, Lady Ainhara, I apologise," a guard whispers as Ainhara stands in the hallway. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ "How is Queen Lyn?" *'Drained and exhausted. She has not slept well in three days...* "The Queen is very busy. She is determined to complete the tasks set to her." Ainhara sighs. "Esshi is overseeing her meals currently. Did her mother not say all matters of state should be brought to her?" "Yes she did, but the shipments are set to arrive today. And she said that once they arrive, I am to notify you. They have made way to the Western Entrance." ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ "I see. Well, let us see to it." "Yes," The guard bows and leads the way with Ainhara at his heels. As she passes the open stain-glassed windows, the cool breeze hit her, making her dress flutter behind her and the beadery shine and glitter.
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Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
♪♫♛♕ тнє мαѕкє∂ вαя∂ I ♕♛♫♪
ᗩIᑎᕼᗩᖇᗩ ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ Ainhara is standing in her Queen's room, staring at the door that leads to her chamber 'My Lady...' she thinks worried before looking at her reflection. Her mistress had surprised her a gift of a finely made dress of rose-silk, making her a flowing vision in blue. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ The dress is suitable for the bright and hot morning, light, airy and delicate with one shoulder that is heavily beaded with peacock feathers; the slit reveals her slender legs, the hip appliqued with the white lilies of her Queen's Kingdom, and simple flat shoes. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ Her fiery locks are pinned into her usual bun. It is then that she hears a gentle knock on the door which she approaches and opens. "Did you not hear the command of the Queen Mother?" Ainhara gently hisses, "Queen Lyn is not to be disturbe-" "I know, Lady Ainhara, I apologise," a guard whispers as Ainhara stands in the hallway. ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ "How is Queen Lyn?" *'Drained and exhausted. She has not slept well in three days...* "The Queen is very busy. She is determined to complete the tasks set to her." Ainhara sighs. "Esshi is overseeing her meals currently. Did her mother not say all matters of state should be brought to her?" "Yes she did, but the shipments are set to arrive today. And she said that once they arrive, I am to notify you. They have made way to the Western Entrance." ~ ⚪♫⚪ ~ "I see. Well, let us see to it." "Yes," The guard bows and leads the way with Ainhara at his heels. As she passes the open stain-glassed windows, the cool breeze hit her, making her dress flutter behind her and the beadery shine and glitter.
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50
They say pride comes before a fall Which I do not believe at all, For how would we progress unless We can take pride in our success? 'Tis pride in success I believe That motivates us to achieve. So whether they be big or small Celebrate your achievements all! Take pride in any job well done And apologise to no one!
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Nov 17, 2016
Nov 17, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC
Pride!
I had told her about my pin badges - It was that kind of intimacy. I had written poems about her - It was that kind of intimacy. She returns with another present, In fact, more than one, Despite being a woman scorned - It was that kind of intimacy. One, a postcard, to return my gesture, A memory we shared together - It was that kind of intimacy. Two, a pin, she travelled to find, Searching to fix something that Was never broken. To her, this was a failure, To me, it was Our kind of intimacy. And three, a notebook, Because she knows what I love, And that words lie deep inside of me, Screaming to come out. I write this to her to apologise For being a fool, and to thank her For her undying encouragement And her endless inspiration And her kind, warm words - A beautiful friendship married By the endless embers of Written words - Our kind of intimacy.
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Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 6:37 AM UTC
Souvenirs - A Retraction (or: Our kind of intimacy)
I don't get it What the actual **** you want from me Talk! Say it! You don't have to ignore me You don't have to talk sarcasticly Be true! Make it clear! So I do understand The actual thing you want from me If I did wrong so I can apologise If I am behaving bad so I can improvise But don't ignore me Dont make me feel useless I have heart too I have feelings But sometimes this silly mind of mine can be tactless It can be hard for me to catch up on things if you did't tell Because what seems right to me might seems wrong to you So say it! Talk! I am a human too I am not perfect.
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
Say it!
these songs are dedicated to those hours late into the night; when the sky gravitates towards the end of the colour spectrum, in which the hues collide, to create an illusion as mesmerising as the look in her eyes when he smiles. because the way the notes grazed her ear drums, as they lift themselves hazily off of the sheet, is one way to describe how it feels when she hears his voice; his laugh encompassing her whole being, enclosing her in a tight embrace. i sincerely apologise to all the songs i've ruined and stained with the ****** memory of you.
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Mar 25, 2018
Mar 25, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
these songs
So as much as this Drama does persist Your Prisoned Warning tugs at my Cool Shirt Asking me to take Prudence and desist In bashing Silence to where it would hurt Now engraved in Copper I will make Clear: For all my Writ Plagues I Apologise, Deep in use plug Buds to that Trumpet's Ear If Empathy a Letter in disguise This my Friend's Spy; Deploy to high pursuit Waving that Placard in belated claim Which tastes folly less on a nutty boot And Reprimand stamped on his just Remain. Such I learned that Friendship's Best takes no Force I Follow my Heart; Now you Follow yours.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:04 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - THIRTY-THREE - TOM DALEY
Press, Hammer, String, Vibrate, Hear, Press again, Wait for mistake, Prepare for complaints, Apologise, Apply mute, Press softer, Hammer, String, Vibrations muffled, No resonance, No sustain, The keys just as solid, Still heavy, Less inviting, Forced away, Stand, Close lid, Turn, Leave.
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 2:21 AM UTC
Heavy Keys
i write about you but you do not exist or maybe you do; maybe you do and i'm just talking to myself maybe you're just another part of me that i hate so much i have to talk to you, i have to punish you because i know i shouldn't like the way it feels- and i don't; but i keep coming back for more anyway i amend: i know i shouldn't be addicted to this hatred you tear me open and pull at my frayed edges so that i split apart and lose my functionality - and i let you then i let you thread me back together once more you build my body with thicker wool each time, hoping that one day i'll be warmer, and harder to unravel and you sew my edges with fragile promises of a better future as breakable as the metal pin that bends between your crafty fingers the materials started off so colourful at first, like rainbows maybe that's why i'm so queer though over time you started toning down my personality. as my depression embroidered me, my sexuality dulled purple and black and white and grey you manipulate my patterns. some nights i sleep through, others i don't sleep at all and some nights my strings are stretched so taut across the nightmares that one small pull will undo me i am ripped apart then made into patchwork; there are white seams over my arms you call me a work in progress, damaged goods to be fixed, to be mended: you can't afford replacements that doesn't stop you from looking wishing you could upgrade me into something more, something better and every time i fall apart again i'm left itching with apologies but never to you; i never say sorry for hurting you my only regrets are to those who become collateral damage. i do not apologise to you because you are me, and i am you you are a part of me and i hate you as much as i hate myself.
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Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
me and you
i write about you but you do not exist or maybe you do; maybe you do and i'm just talking to myself maybe you're just another part of me that i hate so much i have to talk to you, i have to punish you because i know i shouldn't like the way it feels- and i don't; but i keep coming back for more anyway i amend: i know i shouldn't be addicted to this hatred you tear me open and pull at my frayed edges so that i split apart and lose my functionality - and i let you then i let you thread me back together once more you build my body with thicker wool each time, hoping that one day i'll be warmer, and harder to unravel and you sew my edges with fragile promises of a better future as breakable as the metal pin that bends between your crafty fingers the materials started off so colourful at first, like rainbows maybe that's why i'm so queer though over time you started toning down my personality. as my depression embroidered me, my sexuality dulled purple and black and white and grey you manipulate my patterns. some nights i sleep through, others i don't sleep at all and some nights my strings are stretched so taut across the nightmares that one small pull will undo me i am ripped apart then made into patchwork; there are white seams over my arms you call me a work in progress, damaged goods to be fixed, to be mended: you can't afford replacements that doesn't stop you from looking wishing you could upgrade me into something more, something better and every time i fall apart again i'm left itching with apologies but never to you; i never say sorry for hurting you my only regrets are to those who become collateral damage. i do not apologise to you because you are me, and i am you you are a part of me and i hate you as much as i hate myself.
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44
My worst enemy and tireless companion finally came to my door last night. As I slept away the time of day And killed my poor friend Time He traveled closer to my home. As I slowly cowered in the face of fear And realized my mistake too late As I chose to make a silly choice He quietly opened the door. Shame came in but didn't stop And with every tear that welled up inside He crawled in hot into my cheeks. As the salty drops burned away my skin He then moved on down to my throat And choked me up till air was gone. I gagged and shook, begging him to go Openly admitting my sin But Shame knew he could do more And as I watched my world crumble He eagerly attacked my heart. As he dripped down to the hearth He triumphed with his final mutation. The pain of Shame is nothing Next to that of his brother Humiliation. There, in the privacy of my soul He slaughtered my Pride with a blunted blade As Sloth cowered in the corner. When the room was red he finally paused With a smile on his face at the lesson he left. As he exited Responsibility came in instead And from the door watched with sad eyes Waiting for me to rise and finally apologise.
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Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
Shame