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Brandon Brazel May 2015
If the label on a bottle of poison were more pretty,
More people would choose it over the **** antidote.
This is a problem we face,
When the vision is blurry.
I can't stand when others say "you don't look like a regular person" as if there is a way we are entitled to look. We are our own selves.
spacewalker Dec 2017
trying to make a rhyme in time
before my feeling lock me out

trying to find the time to write it down
when I really just want to drown it out

I try,
I know men don't cry,
but little boys do
I have a bit of both I guess
but guess what one I use

thighs that remind me
of a drunk man drawing
on a scratchboard
with a knife

strifes break out between parts of my mind
tearing me apart from the inside

now,
what pride?

I'm whats left
if you take away all the right
and leave all the wrong


I'm the awkward hello
and the silent goodbye
did you hear me whisper
oh wait
no one heard
or maybe no one cared
I'm not ready
but I am prepared  
I don't belong here
goodbye
so long
MeanAileen Mar 2017
I'm in love with a man I know not to love
his heart will never be free.
I waste my days
a ***** to his ways-
knowing he will never love me.

He is the secret I can never reveal
the best lover I ever have known.
I've nothing to give
but my body.....it's his-
fresh dirt for him to bury his bone.

Hopelessly hooked on him like a drug
wanting him day and night.
I play his ***** game.....
I have no shame-
taking it all, knuckles white.

Dead is the conscience I knew so well
and morals.....they ran far away.
Clarity now blurry
in a love-drunk slurry-
the 'good me' has gone astray.

To lay with him is playing with fire,
and the flames, they burn me alive.
Leaving me marred,
hurting and scarred-
the pain on which I thrive.

A fool for punishment, I beg for more
even if all I am worthy of is ****.
Loving him breaks me.....
it overtakes me-
but I'm not willing to quit.

I die a little more each passing day
until again, I get lost in those eyes....
All doubt goes away,
so for now I'll stay
living this life of lies.
You can't always help who you fall in love with...
Cné Jun 2017
My
Third eye
Clouded
Busy blurry skies
What have I done
To the you and I
To the me and you
That could never be
Drawn to these pleasures
Between these sheets
Smothering moonlight
Deep summer heat
Damping ****
Still no retreat
The flame burns
Even hotter
When You and I cheat
.....

Take my hand
and come with me
to dreams of love and ****
Where....drifting down
the blurry skies
the eye need not adjust,
Where....
moonlight dances merrily
reflecting us unseen.
The smoldering heat
of our united union,  
except to you and me
No need to worry
the things that we do
between the sheets
of carnal pleasure
that draws me to you.  
Together we will reach our peak
as we share this glorious night.
Lie with me beneath the moon
and feel its timeless flight.
Hope you don't mind Trader Tim.
Cindra Carr Jul 2011
She broke my heart again
It failed as she skipped out of reach
It’s okay
Little things can go unnoticed
How big can a heart really be?
She gave it a kick as she stumbled over it
That paled in comparison when she stepped on it
I gift wrapped my heart
I even sang a little tune as I tied the bow
She had that look though
A little moue of surprise and a stutter
My heart dropped and I leaned back
Bracing myself always feels like it should help
But, then she broke it
Kicked it
Stepped on it
Scuffed it for sure
It got a little blurry
I knew as soon as she said
“We can still be friends right?”

cc062911
eli Aug 2018
I lock myself into a room
I fall to the ground
I can't breathe
I cant see
   everything is
                  b
                      l
                   u
                   r
                      r
                   y
my tears cover my eyes
I don't know why
but these panic attacks won't stop coming
and I don't know why

am I overthinking too much again?
has my depression come back?
am I all alone again?
do I miss him too much?
Cné Aug 2017

Cné
I believe in love...
In a blink of an eye, a life goes by
extinguished in the end.
And all that's done returns to dust.
No omen can portend.
Yet love lives on, infecting all
and never really dies
It goes beyond the realm of man
to live in fragrant skies.
And on the spacious sea of clouds,
it waits to find a port.
And then it anchors in a soul
to caper and cavort.

Traveler
Perhaps
In the emotional beginning
When head was yet held high
Stumbling through clouds
Of bright blurry skies
Love was a foolish quest
Of paralyzing highs
And now you're telling me
Love can never die?

Cné
Translucent,
the clouds we've sailed
and golden sunsets made
Kisses that we could have had
while watching rainbows fade.
Alas, a life's too short to spend
in fathomless regret.
Perhaps the wheel will turn again
another lifetime yet.
And so, my love
the voyage goes on,
to "golden years"?
We'll see.
Until
the other side reveals
what shall become of "we".

Traveler
Indeed
A dangerous theory
I can't imagine
Love roaming free
The source of all misery
Another invisible ghost
Possessing unaware host
Surely
Love is the blood we bleed
All across time and history
Love is more than a mere key
More than a want
Love is a need...


Cné  
Traveler Tim


MalakF Aug 2018
Everyone has noticed - my friends and family are all worried.
They all somehow know that my mind is going all blurry
and that I spend my time hoping that my life will hurry.
Forget everything I said about getting better as none of it matters.
All I know is that I'm going sick again.
Chris Neilson May 2016
In '87 there was a band on at the Witchwood
called the ****** Surgeons
head surgeon was wearing a surgeon's gown
wearing a surgeon's mask
wearing a surgeon's hair-net
delirium in the audience
the band played thrashing guitars
in front of a psychotic drummer
behind the masked, hair-netted front surgeon
2 songs in, off came the hair-net
3 songs in, off came the mask
4 songs in, off came the gown
a bare chested surgeon
now wearing civilian half nakedness
a huge sofa cushion appeared in the audience
from out of nowhere into my face
my beloved tinted specs flew into the moshing mob
the chaos relented for a moment
I searched the floor for my pride and joy
finding them in multiple smashed, crushed pieces
I could not see the band
I could hardly see my hand
in front of my be-cushioned face
I left the show early
as everything was blurry
how was I to know?
how a ****** Surgeons show would go?
maybe the name was a giveaway.
after a sofa cushion ruined my day.
It's all true.
Mandalina Oct 2018
Relapse.
It's screaming my name.
Relapse.
The urge is killing me.
Relapse.
I'm trying to stay clean,
but right now all I see is
relapse.

My vision is blurry,
my mind is a mess,
it all makes sense,
and I know I shouldn't
but in this moment I'm weak.

All I want to do is
   r  e  l  a  p  s  e



-j.m.k
Stephanie Apr 9
I want to come back home already
But the lights are off and I am nowhere
The road on the way home is blurry
I am gone.. Like your promise to be there
All your promises are now sugar coated lies
No answer but you left with so much why's
when the poetess is sad, she writes sad sestet too... with that ababcc form :(
Eunyeong Jun 2018
Looking out the window with a blurry sight
It is another hazy Wednesday afternoon
Although it is not time for midnight
I could already see the faint silver moon.

A beautiful June day is back from the past
For her resting summertime dream
The sun has rose to the mountaintop at last
Softly drenching us with his golden beam.

I could smell the wild roses of desire
From the garden of heaven above
They are colored in the shade of pure fire
To symbolize their sweet summer love.

The fragrance of afternoon is in the air
Like the cool freshness of pouring rain
The silent darkness is just and fair
I can hear his footsteps coming again.

The seeping shadows will come with time
Soon everything will grow mature and old
I will count the remaining days of mine
What Mother Nature has given us is gold.
Jamie Riley Apr 2018
They look out from the terrace.

At the borders of sight
live rocky hills behind brown
and golden and olive crop
under a cloudless sky.

Sun beams brighten motley roofs
on tessellations which blacken beige
in blurry air.



























BANG!





















An artificial cloud.

































“Look,” she points, “Let’s go!”

She takes him and they fly down stairs,
diving like sparrows
into the street.

Boys sprint across pavements and climb;
men vault over fences in time
for news to reach ears.

“They’re coming!
"¡Ya vienen!"

Excitement and fear.
The rattling of cow bells
and galloping nears.

Men bait and dodge horns
and escape through doors
and up and over
red wooden bars.

Sticks beat on the concrete ground
and drive the mute beasts's sounds.

Seconds away –
until the last,
he side steps into a house;

indoors,

apart,

he runs through the foyer
and up the stairs
around a corner.

Long strides

too fast to follow.

She chooses left and
sings soprano
when doors won't budge
and a beast crashed in.

She turns and the fear is paralysing.




"FERMIN!"







































­












He leaps down steps
and explodes
as it rams her
to and fro,
bashing her head
against the wall
where horns sin
and horns gore
cement and brick.

He grips the tail
heaving its hide from
side to side as
hooves smash
crates of wine,

he slips and slides
in fractured glass
and finds a horn
and yanks the head;

is yanked instead,
half dead before the men
arrive down stairs
to shout and kick it;
strike and stick it
smack and hit it;
'til it
fits and quits
and flees the foyer
fast and frantic
flying flustered
by the frenzy
finding the
pattering
of
pavement



petering



into





the











street.





"¿Que ha pasado?
  ¿Quien ha sido?
  ¡El Balbotin
  y la Chicha!
  ¡Que una vaca
  les ha pillado!"





His hands bleed
and flesh breathes.

"¿Estas bien?"

Dizzy, she tends to him
with searching hands,
and scolding words.
Men and women
fuss and frown,
always making sure.

"Podria haber sido peor"

Another story for the herd.
This poem is about an incident which happened to my Grandparents, Fermin Yanguas Ochoa and Raimunda Ramos Frias.

It was during a bull run in their village (Fitero) in Navarra, Northern Spain. 1972
V Mar 2017
Its different when you're with me.
Because all I paint is black and gray
Don't you agree?

Your smiles are filled with glee,
Like a finished canvas I daresay.
Its different when you're with me.

I make things a little blurry
Like an old painting that starts to decay.
Don't you agree?

When you're with them, I am filled with envy.
So colorful, so faraway.
Its different when you're with me.

I am a bit too gloomy
Maybe I should stay away
Don't you agree?

Your life is already a beautiful harmony
I'll just be in the way.
Its different when you're with me.
Don't you agree?
Emily Jul 2017
you were like warm alcohol
blurry bed sheets,
comforting.
you were like scuffed sidewalk chalk
multi-colored nostalgia,
dusty.
you were like good morning kisses
but i don't wear that perfume.
Shaking

Tunnel vision

Dizziness

No precision

Almost gone

Blurry vision

The world spinning

Vision fades

Lights out

Gone today
Cristina Dean Aug 2017
The evenings are grey and overcast
I walk home after work
Climb the steep
Dank stairs
Into my apartment.
I push the door open
And sigh
But it is not a breath I exhale
I say your name
And it echoes in my brain
As I drop the keys on the
Kitchen table
Your face is blurry in my mind's memory
Aside of your green eyes
Which are all at once
Sharp as steel knives and
Aching with hope

What were you more
Than a love I was bound for?
JayceeJellies Jun 2015
Her
Why do I constantly wonder,
If I'm truly to her, what she says I am?
Why am I so concered with that..
That feeling inside of my gut?
What is it anyway?
That disturbing clench.
It causes me to worry.
You've made my vision blurry.
Please stay by my side..
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