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"blurrier" poems
The world suddenly becomes blurrier Like presence begins slipping away I'm guessing effects are shifting sides Took one hit too many today Slept on my dreams far too long Changed the way perception blooms Erased gleam one high at a time Painted me as dark as the shadows in my room Or just chiseled away my armor It's so hard to accept the face beneath the mask Where has the old me disappeared to? The question in my chest I am too scared to   ask
0
Aug 20, 2023
Aug 20, 2023 at 10:48 AM UTC
Broken Brain
Tiptoe with me through roads of mottled rainbows We’ll build a city of coffee cream clouds and crystallized light Our sticky shadows can stumble jump rope with fizzling stars And our light will tang in the air with peace Every streecorner will have an off-key symphony Played with tongues broken from laughter Raise your arms to catch the words that’ve ballooned into the stratosphere I’ll tangle my fingers in your palm to lift you higher You’ll collect liquid moon in a sandcastle bucket Drips of silver catching in your spidersilk hair I’ll pour it down all outside the doily mold It’ll twist down to earth in fractured motion Trust me, I never knew how to fly Only to fall, and to fall with broken hands Jump with me and skate down a sunset Dorothy ain’t got nothin’ on this kind of color I’m blinder than an arsonist with night vision goggles But only ‘cause I see with my heart instead of reflections of light Life is opaque when your soul is an old one Though I’m still getting drunk on the learning wine Take a rose and ***** a finger on a petal The softest feelings always have the sharpest bite The devil’s left the details to hammer her way up to heaven She’ll shatter kaleidoscope bullets into mosaics of sin Love is the game that all the best dreamers play I think up slow nonsense that fills my lungs with longing Bright towns are always blurrier than the grey And my brush is shaky from absent disuse So bring me home (my home is you) Build love from the broken rubble souls Sing for our voices reaching higher than the sun As my hair links with yours in the summer breeze Frozen bubbles can chime on every door Our bare feet will press into wet desert clay Smiles will be painted pure and golden And all the colors will fill our footprints as we walk away in joy.
0
Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 9:35 PM UTC
The Town of Dreams
Tiptoe with me through roads of mottled rainbows We’ll build a city of coffee cream clouds and crystallized light Our sticky shadows can stumble jump rope with fizzling stars And our light will tang in the air with peace Every streecorner will have an off-key symphony Played with tongues broken from laughter Raise your arms to catch the words that’ve ballooned into the stratosphere I’ll tangle my fingers in your palm to lift you higher You’ll collect liquid moon in a sandcastle bucket Drips of silver catching in your spidersilk hair I’ll pour it down all outside the doily mold It’ll twist down to earth in fractured motion Trust me, I never knew how to fly Only to fall, and to fall with broken hands Jump with me and skate down a sunset Dorothy ain’t got nothin’ on this kind of color I’m blinder than an arsonist with night vision goggles But only ‘cause I see with my heart instead of reflections of light Life is opaque when your soul is an old one Though I’m still getting drunk on the learning wine Take a rose and ***** a finger on a petal The softest feelings always have the sharpest bite The devil’s left the details to hammer her way up to heaven She’ll shatter kaleidoscope bullets into mosaics of sin Love is the game that all the best dreamers play I think up slow nonsense that fills my lungs with longing Bright towns are always blurrier than the grey And my brush is shaky from absent disuse So bring me home (my home is you) Build love from the broken rubble souls Sing for our voices reaching higher than the sun As my hair links with yours in the summer breeze Frozen bubbles can chime on every door Our bare feet will press into wet desert clay Smiles will be painted pure and golden And all the colors will fill our footprints as we walk away in joy.
Continue reading...
36
The time ticks by tediously. It's as if this night is never-ending. While I lie here waiting, my mind wanders idly. As usual, my thoughts eventually settle on you. (A sad nightly ritual, if you will) Your face swims into focus, but I fear it's blurrier than before. I can still picture the bright blue of your eyes perfectly, But the contours of your face are getting fuzzy. Is this really you I'm remembering, Or are you slipping away? I can't even recall the sweet melody of your voice. This terrifying realization hits me hard. I'm losing you. Again. These memories are all I have. Please don't take them from me. I want to scream out, but all I can do is gasp for air. Once upon a time, you were my everything. We were supposed to live happily ever after. But you were stolen from me that stormy night. I can still hear their words echo through the empty house. He never felt any pain. He died instantaneously. Well **** you. You left me with so much pain. I suffer through it every night. As I fight with all my might, To keep your memory alive. Because I will always love you. The time ticks by tediously. I'm just waiting until mine runs out. Maybe then, we can be together again.
0
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 1:59 AM UTC
Losing You
I have no problems with reality, Not a one. For my reality has been kind to me. She is not the hard unchangeable reality whom others face, But an easily molded reality. A reality I can all too simply alter. My reality is maleable. The paper goes down, Disintegrating under the tongue, And enlightenment goes up, All these new realities i'd missed before. The colours all increase, Each sensation felt as though via magnifying glass. A vivid, deep reality arrives. The bottle tips up, And boredom- bred of a mundane life, And sadness- for no particular reason, Flow out. A blurrier and faster paced reality sets in. Much better. Much better. And one might forget everything - in my reality that is. So many nights never truly occurred. *I had nothing to do with that long-haired boy, The accepting of his alcohol, The ripping of his shirt, The kissing of his neck.* In your harsh reality truths are unavoidable. Not so in mine! Yes, My reality is kind to me. It looks after me well. It will do what is for the best, Erasing and blurring. Good reality, good pet. I feed my little reality her meds, And we stay happily together; happy in our preferredly hazy state.
0
Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 5:03 AM UTC
Well Behaved Reality
This is my 10th time, Looking myself in the mirror. (Sigh) It's a shame to say, My reflection just get's blurrier. Yesterday, I saw an image. Everything was so foggy... I couldn't tell if it was me, Or the Devil. My eyes were indeed blood-shot red, Mom used'ta tell me, "Don't ever hide monster's under the bed!" I finally understood, What she meant. ©MH
0
Apr 27, 2019
Apr 27, 2019 at 5:37 PM UTC
A Boy's Cry.
Because I've been lying to everybody I even lie to myself I tell lies that they believe I tell a lie that I would believe I know you really don't care None of you do Well, guess what Neither do I I'm okay I really am Express pain in a shorter way And yes, it's a lie, anyway You won't understand me You'll drown I am more complicated than this poem You don't even know that this is a poem I'm alone in a small crowd Drowned in deserted drought Blurrier than a vague hope Weaker than a decrepit old skyscraper Deeper than the depths of a core No one Nonsense, eh? Well, yeah. Okay is enough No weird things to understand Nothing to elucidate I'm okay Just okay Okay?
0
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 10:46 AM UTC
NONSENSE
when the lights are off the music is louder the blanket is smaller the voices are lower my hair is softer the world is bigger your face is blurrier my mind is opener my heart beats stronger
0
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
the stars on my ceiling spell out your name
My tongue has never known the taste of being straightforward, finding safety and comfort in jaded sarcasm and clever remarks. But sometimes the truth cannot be held back and it rises like the tides, spilling onto the page from my fingertips instead. You joked about me finding someone else today and I just laughed and hugged you tighter. But the farther I walked away from you, the blurrier everything became so by the time you were out of sight, I couldn't remember if there had been the suggestion of uncertainty in your voice. (Overthinking has always been my preferred brand of poison.) Perhaps it is my fault for needing attention too desperately for asking too many people to complete the gap in my heart that only I should be able to fill for needing everyone to paint me into a masterpiece because I can't stand how my own reflection looks like a crumpled-up sketch, tossed aside with the rest of the universe's failures. I'm sorry for all of it. It's just hard when the mirrors in my house look like nothing but magnifying glasses of my imperfections. I just hope you know that even though Northern California is known for its misty fog, your eyes shine through like the morning light. Forget the sun; you are the brightest star in my sky. And with each passing day, I am beginning to wonder if maybe everyone has it wrong when they say love is blind Because I'd swear to every god I don't believe in that you are the one thing I can see clearly in this shapeless world.
0
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
myopia
My tongue has never known the taste of being straightforward, finding safety and comfort in jaded sarcasm and clever remarks. But sometimes the truth cannot be held back and it rises like the tides, spilling onto the page from my fingertips instead. You joked about me finding someone else today and I just laughed and hugged you tighter. But the farther I walked away from you, the blurrier everything became so by the time you were out of sight, I couldn't remember if there had been the suggestion of uncertainty in your voice. (Overthinking has always been my preferred brand of poison.) Perhaps it is my fault for needing attention too desperately for asking too many people to complete the gap in my heart that only I should be able to fill for needing everyone to paint me into a masterpiece because I can't stand how my own reflection looks like a crumpled-up sketch, tossed aside with the rest of the universe's failures. I'm sorry for all of it. It's just hard when the mirrors in my house look like nothing but magnifying glasses of my imperfections. I just hope you know that even though Northern California is known for its misty fog, your eyes shine through like the morning light. Forget the sun; you are the brightest star in my sky. And with each passing day, I am beginning to wonder if maybe everyone has it wrong when they say love is blind Because I'd swear to every god I don't believe in that you are the one thing I can see clearly in this shapeless world.
Continue reading...
17
We are cut from the same apple But I don’t even like apples And you prefer pears Regardless of fruit, I believe that we go well together You’re the apple of my eye I see myself in you When you’re fumbling your words, Or tripping over air Honestly though, I don’t care I’ve embraced the flaws of the human race I remember how nervous you were, And how nervous I always am That night we dove into each others arms We didn’t look back as we woke up in the ocean You moved the hair from my eyes And I saw clearly Perhaps, blurrier than before What I knew all along Didn’t matter anymore
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 3:17 AM UTC
Apples
In the midst of my depression, I have noticed omens of my past lives. the moments left behind in old houses, My habits layed out and discarded on my bed. I've grown estranged to their music and the lyrics that parch my tongue like bread. The same with people, Not a moment goes by and the image of her grows blurrier. Not a moment goes by and my image grows weaker. and all the while I seek no cure so I must be all the wiser Living up to the name shouldn't be hard That the melancholy that ails me is just fortunes card I'm just merely a prolonged chord on deaths strings. or maybe a bird caged who wants to spread his wings. Truly though, I must be a velveteen rabbit Burnt among the playthings
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Aug 26, 2016
Aug 26, 2016 at 6:42 PM UTC
Velveteen fur
Here i am again without you    I feel my skin and bones begging for your touch,    I feel my veins and blood aching for your heat,    my soul screaming for you to stay.              Within each second you become blurrier And the madness and insanity of my mind take over me; craving your lips and the sound of your heart beat, Craving what we used to be. Craving every little piece of you.
0
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 11:01 PM UTC
Insanity
The mirror shines an echo of reality a thousand times blurrier than I see. The white lies praise closure, toxic autobiography, as wax eyes glaze over, magnetic abnormality. Painted mouth, a harsh sculpted shape. Torn plastic hair, a blocked-off escape. Between the fluorescence and the silver reply the fruits of my labour or a sordid fruit fly? The scars on my shoulders, the spots on my face; saturated colours polluting the lace. Rouge tinted balm, a turned sickly ochre, My elbows together, shoulders narrower, triangular figure; carved by an egoist, all angles and fissures. The moisturiser refuses to sink into my skin, a tantaliser of trial, on the surface, a swim. Impenetrable, inaccessible, my hands rip the surface. A false doll face with a fast fading purpose.
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Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 5:21 PM UTC
My Bathroom Mirror
My steps got slower as words flew into my mind My heartbeats got stronger as every sentence made sense The calm became blurrier and was nowhere to find The air became heavy and my feelings a bit dense As my eyes travelled along the dark black ink And each curve of each letter was a different confusion I could only feel my brain incapable to think And the relief I felt for finally knowing your conclusion I thought of the warmth and the passion in your touch I remembered the moments of ample satisfaction When we understood each other without saying much And we would both smile as a natural reaction The words were so meaningful Yet less than what you give me I must say I'm ******* thankful That now I know you won't leave me
0
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
Love in a pigeonhole
Sweet naivety balanced like dew drops on the rims on pint glasses filled with the black stuff, my hair is bleached blonde and I was going through ***** like water, you know those types of nights, the ones where we tiptoe around each other not knowing quite how to act, like lovers or friends. Not knowing quite what we are, everyone else seems to know so much better than we do. Like when you were trying to explain to your neighbour what I was to you but couldn't find the words and we just nodded to each other repeatedly saying our names and then laughing and getting drunk and the night getting blurrier and blurrier but I remember your hand in mine. It was good.
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Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 4:22 PM UTC
It Was Good.
It may be a tad blurrier than life It may be a pinch closer than death Ironically equality lies upon the cusp of an idea--- It, it, it--- Seems to be great reason for all things;--- A bubble supposedly invented as a means for survival Be and let be “It” does not matter
0
Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 5:06 PM UTC
+ It -
Before She used to be a few steps away; only just down the stairway She always picked when I dialed 'zero'; always very quick to be my hero She was always by the phone; and always there when it's time to go home She was at arms length, always with her arms stretched; bringing smiles to my face no matter how stressed She was the face I looked forward to see every morning; her laughter brought me to life from deep yawning She made up like no one I've ever met; with lips softer than the feel of velvet Now She is far away from proximity, very far away; her laughter dims in my head as the days pass away Her scent has completely disappeared from my trail; connecting with her comes with multiple fails Her face becomes blurrier by the day; the bright light that once shone is now at bay It seems that once in a blue moon we would only see; I miss her so much this piece doesn't describe the least for her how I feel
0
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 4:30 AM UTC
Forlorn
Fleeting are my white lace dreams Aisle of blood red roses guiding Two lives into one grand eternity Glimmering like a polished diamond Clasped hand in hand not clammy But passionate and exuberant Candles floating in frosted vases Two figures sitting atop a cake Vows to keep each other afloat Vows to keep each other great Notebook plans for a grand evening Surrounded by love and twinkle lights Aspirations of his and his first dance But since you nothing's ever felt right My white lace dreams are fading They get blurrier every night
0
Jun 23, 2021
Jun 23, 2021 at 2:23 AM UTC
Veil
To hide, Make opaque the details Sympathetic outlines Obscuring what I should be feeling Imaginary traipses through Verbal scenery Clutch your denial between your legs Drink it while I'm not watching Mouth agape, skin pulled tight by your truth’s fingers, Another hot gush of “denial” arches your back and forces shut your eyes You aren't watching either We're blurrier than we were. No definition, What we are exists in 240p I'm straining my vision against the harsh grain of a flickering lcd I'm watching the most important part of your story disappear into sporadic outcroppings of dead pixels I'm grasping an empty metal frame and begging until I feel like screaming, “I can't see you anymore” Sometimes I think I shouldn't.
0
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 3:32 AM UTC
Telescoping a Phobia
The three of them, mixing together for months. Now, were drowning on my tongue. But the sweet taste hadn't soured yet. Until tonight. With blurrier vision, I saw clearly to the bottom of the bottle. The faster it went down, the harder they were to swallow. The words pooled to the top. Swirled around until one after the other d r i p p e d out.
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Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
I love you
Life is fleeting. That much we know, right? We can't see the future and the past is a filthy liar that often makes things seem so much better than they were. Coated in some fog of nostalgia that allows us to forget the pain or disappointment or even failure. So where does that leave us? Right here. Right now. But in the tick of my watch hand, we're suddenly older than we've ever been before and further away from the moments we shared. Every second, those moments get blurrier until one day they're just there. And they mean nothing because they aren't real anymore. They've been distorted and warped, mangled by time and space, anger and loss, love and longing. But our story... Our story doesn't deserve to be watered down, falsified by years of wanting a better ending. Our story deserves to be what it was. So that's the story I'm going to tell.
0
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 10:24 PM UTC
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