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leena Jul 2014
if you are leaving
stay gone
Philip Smith Nov 2014
Dear Water,

     I have found another drink my love. It's not you it's me. I just need some space for awhile. Lately I have been craving other drinks. Flavored drinks... I know fruit punch and lemonade are not the healthiest of choices, but I can't get them out of my head. At first it was just a sip, but one thing led to another and a sip turned into a gulp and a gulp into a 32oz cup.

You will always be my first and I will always remember you and use you as a means to judge my future beverages. After-all I carry with me 70% of you everywhere I go.
Cheating is wrong. If you want someone else end what you are currently involved in first. :) And drink lots of water
Niki Elizabeth Sep 2015
"i love you, but i can't do this right now.
i need a break to think.
we can try again in a bit."

Do you know how stupid that is?
You don't get to pick and choose when to be with me.
You don't get to wait 'til it's easier and less stressful.
Life will always be stressful,
and love is never easy.
I guess I should have expected this,
from a boy who still likes Hollister.
harmony crescent Jun 2015
You grabbed my heart faster than a fat kid grabs cake

Yet walked away slower than internet explorer can load
Just a humorous twist on a sad breakup
datanami Feb 2019
Jah Bless Me
Stick by Me
Princess Gone
Roots Alone

Pass the Pipe
No Coke Pipe
I Need More
Songs of Praise

-

Give Jah Praise
I Believe
I Found Love
Rock and Groove

Ring Ding Ding
The Right Thing
I Shall Sing
Move along
16/64 Reggae song titles, sorted in mirror alphabetic (ascending by last letters)
Megan L Nov 2015
The girl with the brown hair
And brown eyes cries
Three people stand in a kitchen.

Two steady, with eyes that pierce holes in her head,
The third pacing restlessly, eyes undead.

A dog skitters by
And jumps on one of them,
They pet her, as she is oblivious to what is happening and therefore innocent to the quiet screams and hopeless mutters of the brown eyed girl and her worries.

One of them taller, hands in his pockets and eyes just a bit red
But not quite red enough to be marred by tears.

The other small and leaning on the counter,
There is blood in her mouth and tears in her eyes
Even though this isn't her tragedy.

The brown eyed girl,
So beautiful, so smart,
Silently torn apart by an emotionless kiss and absolutely meaningless talks about absolutely nothing,
Slowly tries to die in front of them.

Sways on her feet as she leans on the couch-
They've moved now to the living room and though the house is empty it has been filled by feelings of melancholy and mutual worry for one another -
Though nobody will let her fall,

For the eyes in her head
And the heart in her chest
Are worth a swim though broken glass.

("No, because glass gets in your fingers and it's really hard to get out.")
Adellebee May 2016
You broke my heart, and you didn't even know why, I refused to tell you, because, I thought you should see, a glimpse, of what my perspective, could, would be. But you didn't, and I grew distance, I love feircely, but you hurt me. When I cried for help you straight up, didn't show up, and abandoned me. You hurt me, you are my sister, and let a great man, block you, of your sight to see, your best friend, was in her greatest time of need; you are selfish you see, your happiness and sense of wonderness, blinded your understanding, that I just wanted a place to land, some kind of familiar ground, to have a shoulder, to cry on, and lie down,

I love you, but no words, right now, suite you,
And I have been so close to you

I need a chance to be on my own,
Play rummy, and carry on
THE BREAKUP

There are so many times I needed to be alone,
But tonight, wasn’t one of those nights,
I never thought we would end like this,
But I know it was all for the best,
Oh, tonight I need you to hold me and say
We will make things right,
I need you with me why I cry,
But then that wouldn’t change a thing,
Oh, here comes more rain
I feel so much pain,
But I know we are doing the right thing,
The fears I hold deep within
feel like ancient years of sin,
I could no longer hold it in,
I had to cry day and night just to get by
To make things right,
My bed is unmade,
But I lie there on your side
Telling myself it will all be just fine,
When I wake from that painful night
I take long walks where we first meet,
Sometimes I wonder do you ever think of me?
Do you feel we did the right thing?
Do you feel the pains of are breakup?
If you could only see me now,
Would you take me in your arms?
and tell me we are going to be okay?
Can you feel me right now?
If you can do you understand,
I truly wanted you to be my man,
When you’re gone,
The world on my end has stopped,
My heart is broken into billions of pieces,
I pray each night you are feeling the same way,
But then I get so lost in all my emotions
That I forget why we ended in the first place,
I’m missing you
But I know why we needed to let eachother go,
But my heart keeps missing you so,
Missing the face, I once known,
But we are so long gone
How could we still be hanging on?
I never felt this way before,
I never thought this pain would last so long,
everything I do reminds me of you,
Every place I go
I start to remember all those memories
When we would dance in summers breeze,
But when I go home to a place of old heartaches,
A place we made history,
I go to our bed room
I would see the photo of you and me
Looking so happy,
The smile upon our face like everything was okay,
I loved how you would dance with me
Before we ended are night,
You will kiss me with true passion,
Love we had ended so fast,
I could still remember when we take are walks
I could still count your every step
Your every breath,
But that is long gone,
Know all I have is the memories
how can I pick up the billions of pieces of my heart
And make my life a better place,
Did you ever take the time?
To see that we were made for each other?
but we gave up on the best things we ever had
That was a love that could had last,
I try so hard to let or past go,
But somehow, I wanted you to know
I still love you so,
I’d given you my heart and soul
But that is when everything started bring on the rain,
I started getting where I could no longer breath
When You had left me.

Poetic Judy Emery © 2012
The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
THE QUEEN OF DARKEN DREAMS POETIC JUDY EMERY
Sjr1000 Apr 2017
"It's a frozen morning "
said the earth to the sun

"Please rain"
said the ground to the clouds

"You're going to die"
said the spider to the fly

"Goodbye"
said the woman
to the sleeping guy

"Don't go"
said the guy to the setting sun

"Come home "
said the house
now all alone

"Let's try, one more time "
said the message on her phone

"Our time has come
Our time has gone "
said the four wheels
on the gravel road

"One more log of mother madrone"
said the woodstove to the cold, cold, room.
George Anthony May 2016
i never wanted to kiss her lips,
just hold her hand
maybe kiss her cheeks because she suited a gentler kind of treatment
something softer and more delicate, quiet;
quieter than the constant raging storms inside my stomach,
inside my mind
(never my heart)

those plump lips
she bit them raw when nervous, and they swelled
blossomed ruby as she looked at me
like she knew this wouldn't last
her eyes remained doughy and mellow
when i met her gaze.

my smile stung as it stretched the lines left by winter's bite
and split them open once more.
she brushed the blood beads away with her fingertips
with a touch so reverent that, for a moment, i thought
maybe she felt as though she were touching rosary beads instead,
and i held my breath to stop myself from chasing her
touch, and pressing her down into the mattress

unholy, chasing pleasure.
both agnostic, but she was much more pure than i;
chivalries always in mind, i wanted to preserve that.
there's always been something inside me
that presses down the animalistic urges with
a conscience caught on consideration and something akin to courtly love-
i wanted to woo her before i pursued her

but i never got further than pressing my lips to her forehead,
wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
i laced my fingers with hers but avoided tying any knots.
i am not a man to be bound,
too free-spirit, too restless, too claustrophobic;
a few months in and i was choking on the ghost of a future;
she kissed me first and i suffocated on the phantom of her hopes for us:
a future that didn't yet exist,
and i didn't want it to.
i never kissed her; i never let her kiss me again.

we tangled fingers over the duvet
the television a background noise to our unsteady breaths,
shallower
than my love for her
i enjoyed her quiet affection like one might enjoy curling into a blanket when cold and ill.
i wanted her smiles, i wanted to fill her memories with goodness
so that she never need feel hopeless, like all men are the same
so that she had something to smile about when she looked back on us;
once the bitterness of our breakup had left her mouth-
whenever that eventual end would be-
she could savour the taste of our sweet, slow-burn, love affair
and be reminded that not all love is true love, but nor is all love heart breaking

i broke her heart anyway.

nobody ever taught me how cruel kindness could be.
Mr Incognito Jan 2015
You were wailing like a wounded puppy
Your voice was craving for love and sympathy
It appealed to my dormant magnanimity
And thus for you I opened my heart’s door
Least did I know you were an ugly *****.

I stood beside you at your one call
Your tantrums, your malice I bore ‘em all.
To make you smile daily became my life’s goal
But you were so thankless it shook me to the core
I should have known earlier, you were an ugly *****

Though my knowledge about love was low
Yet at times I wondered if you really know
so much definitions of it and the metaphors bestowed
then why did your breakup happen once before
perhaps because he too knew, you were an ugly *****

What I thought was your love with glee
Was actually an act of backstabbing me.
You betrayed in the first chance given to thee
Now I shall give you chances no more
Because now I know that you are an ugly *****.
Dedicated to all the ******* who betrayed their lover.
Audrey Howitt Jan 2012
she wipes flour from her apron

and her heart breaks a bit more

crumbling

with each new batch of cookies

prepped and baked

(No Valentine's Day cookies this year)

With each loaf wrapped

her tears add salt to dough

the flavor of lost love

she wonders what will become of her

as butter folds itself

into flour

hiding

melting away

until nothing is left to moisten the dough

Icing glides out onto surface

slick and sweet

as she frosts

white hot anger

of betrayal

knives at the ready

she cannot touch

she fears

like little lives

torn out of a comic book

blades infused with grief

she turns back to flour, sugar, butter

and folds them

over and over again.
copyright/All rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012
Àŧùl Jun 2016
My new device Samsung Galaxy A7 (6),
I bought it off my own money guys,
And I am so pleased with myself.

It has helped distract me finally,
The breakup will be forgotten now,
Her false love vanished 7 Galaxies away.
Verdict and review: Samsung Galaxy A7 (6) - the 2016 version is the best phone at its price.
Sometimes you need to move on unwillingly.

My HP Poem #1086
©Atul Kaushal
Kunthavi May 2014

The other day,
the doctor told me,
I wasn’t getting enough of sleep,
thus the prescription pills,
as if my mind,
was switch,
to turn on and off.

Sadness,
was etched in my bones,
and I knew this,
the day you threw words at me,
because I felt my blood drain,
but the sadness lurked within.

Sticks and stones may break your bone,
but words,
they rip your soul,
it’s been months,
but don’t you dare think,
I have forgotten,
what you have said to me,
people underestimate,
a great deal,
the hearts they break,
while trying to find the ‘right one’.

This isn’t about love,
it started when I was eight,
when I didn’t ace maths,
pressure building up,
to be perfect,
to get somewhere,
words haunting,
that never really left,
and you might have broken me,
but I had nothing really much,
to break either.

This isn’t a self-empathy poem,
after many months,
I am finally writing to you,
to tell you,
I will get over you,
it will take time,
I just want you to know,
that I heard your heart stop for a second,
when I said,
“maybe we will get married someday”,
and maybe you knew,
we weren’t going to last,
but that didn’t give you the right,
of drowning me in your words,
as if,
I was your private diary,
to write off guilt and regrets.

This is a poem,
because after many sleepless nights,
my mind has finally sorted out what’s right,
and that’s getting over you,
even if it means,
dusting up my bones.


Ahmed Saheb Sep 2015
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kelly jane Apr 2017
This, that on conception and analysis
Seems easy and appropriate
On practice is worst
Than being tortured as a prisoner
To admit the truth
Feels like experimenting the literal bleeding
Of the most important ***** in one's body
And once task completed
It feels like the worst has been done
By the practicer.
Lily Aug 2018
Listen to me.
This is going to sound cliche,
But I think you need to hear it.
We are in high school,
We have our whole lives ahead of us.
Yes, I know you love them,
And knowing that they don't return
Your feelings anymore is heartbreaking.
I understand that.
But please, please,
Don't fall into the trap of
Thinking less of yourself because of this.
You are a beautiful, talented human
Without a partner.
Yes, a partner is a great thing to have,
But loving yourself will get you so much further!
You are simply YOU.
Nobody should be able to give that to you,
Nor take it away.
If they don't understand and appreciate you,
There will be somebody who does.
Just because this one doesn't work out,
Doesn't mean you have to
Give up on love.
I'm not saying go out and date right away,
But take your time,
Live your life,
Do the things you love to do,
Find yourself.
Once you find out who you are,
Nobody can touch that.
You will be unstoppable.
You are a determined and talented person,
And you are going places in life.
Yes, breakups are really tough.
But you are tougher.
Don't worry; if you're not in high school, the rest of the poem still applies to you!
Chuck Jun 2014
Sup?
Me...movin on
Good times tho
Not u me
Yer great
Btw want my stf back
Drop off in a.m.
Work in morn
Thx
I don't even text in text talk. It's a curse of my profession. I was just imagining how easy it would be to take the cowards way out of a relationship these days.
P.S. Hashtags are jokes.
her May 2013
this morning, at 3:17

I was laying on your chest

awake

listening to your heartbeat

and I realized that

it is no longer my favorite song

goodbye
I'm happy for you
I'm happy for me
I feel at peace
What a relief.
         I was starting to dislike myself.
Madeline Jul 2012
and if i stop, i'll miss the little things:
shaving my legs when i know you're coming over and
not drinking coffee because you don't like the taste of it on my tongue.

i'll miss
running out to your car with my shoes in my hand,
the very last goodnight kiss that's always sweetest.

i'll miss lying to my parents about traffic
and weather
when we were right around the curve of the road,
stealing kisses.

i'll miss
when you don't shave because you know i like your scruffy boy-stubble
when you touch my face without speaking
when your actions
are louder
than words.

i'll miss
your sweetness
i'll miss
your puckish sincerity
i'll miss
you.

i'll miss your hands
your tongue
and your lips on my cheek.

i'll miss you kissing each one of my fingers.

i'll miss our secret handshakes,
our inside jokes,
our petty fights.

i'll miss our song.
i'll miss our arguments about the beatles' breakup,
our railings against religious institutions
our speaking of souls.

and so what i'm proposing,
from me to you,
girl to boy and
heart to heart,
is that you don't stop loving me,
and i
won't stop loving
you.
Mollie Grant Jul 2016
right now, everything good is so difficult
because every step I take
towards my better tomorrow
reminds me of the future
that I'm leaving behind–a future that
I was completely in love with,

even if you were never
in love with me
anonymous Oct 2016
it's been 20 hours since the end

the hot water of an honest shower streams down my skin

she sent me a link to a youtube video
she says it's her breakup music

i click on it, but i don't listen to the words,
on account of how i'm mostly scotch tape today
from across the room, it sounds like despair
Sometimes I was the one responsible for your tears
Sometimes you were responsible for my tears
Sometimes I was the blame for the pain you suffered
Sometimes you were the blame for the love that was never discovered
I wish you were the one losing sleep over the love you lost
I wish you were the one losing focus to what was more than a thought
I’m the one who’s supposed to cry, I’m the one who’s supposed to be broken
You wanted Foreverness, I gave you eternality
Tried building us up but you pulled us down like gravity
You’re bringing up mistakes I made to tarnish what we established
Trying to perfect a game plan that was never practiced
We put each other in this space to which we don’t wanna be
I was hoping to marry your love but you didn’t see a future with me
From blowing each other up to missed calls & unread texts
Pushing you away due to a broken heart that I’m trying to protect
You didn’t trust someone like me, I was too good to be true
I’m watching you walk away while falling deeper in love with you
I wish you could believe me when I say crying isn’t easy to do
Especially when the tears I shed are because of you
Thomas Crone Dec 2013
To all the ******* who don't
Know what is and isn't important
For their own **** good.
A *****, rigid, spiked, smelly
One finger salute for each
And every one of you.

This ******* throws his kids
Out into the streets in November.
Big man of the house who trys so
Desperately to be intimidating,
With a ****** back and a
Horrible stench of alcohol on his breath.

This ******* who thinks she's special.
The stuck up ***** that too closely
Resembles a plump ****** carrot.
Who thinks the perfect guy is a hairless
Fruity smelling mommy's boy *****
With perfect flippy hair and a big ****.

This *******, the few, the proud,
The fruity smelling mommy's boy *****
Who wouldn't know a pair of pliers
If they were ripping off his sparkly earrings.
Never having an ounce of dirt on his hands,
But at least she... I mean he has nice teeth.

This ******* that can't tell one honest
Fact about his "hard and lonely" home life.
The one who nods and laughs but just wants to ****.
Who beats off to his computer after taking a hit
That he bummed off his rich friends.
Who is confused as to why some people (me) hate him.

This ******* who screws with the emotions
Of one of the best guys ever to glide through her life.
Who throws him on a roller coaster with smiles
And flirtatious giggling while she lets him kiss her.
Then throws him to the side and takes the next in line.
I wish only the very best for you, you ****** *****.

Those ******* who abuse, torment
Or play with someone who just wishes the best.
The ones who hurt the vulnerable
To feel better for themselves.
No one deserves the **** you give,
Except each and every one of you.

Honorable mention to those *******
That complain about all men being the same
When in reality they're just searching for
The same type of meat headed ******
Every time they have such a painful terrible
Breakup. Just shut the **** up. For real.
B Jun 2013
A set of rules on how to break up when we break up. Might be having a good time here at this restaurant, applying your make up.

But when we leave and go, we're separate separately, a break from you and me.

But if this keeps happening, and I come home, and you meet me here, and now we're here, here's a set of rules, they're loud and clear:

No cheating and don't let me be misleading I'm not talking about the ****** pleading and the needing, if your truth is used and trust abused that is when we both lose, and no longer fused, we have to split.

Arguments and anger talk and a lack of communication, a big thick wall. That is when this is no longer a free for all, we part our ways, we're free to all.

At last. No contact. Got my stick and sack, there's no coming back.

I don't want to know or see
any of your friends
or their friends
or our friends
from when we
first began
I don't want to see them
or hear them
mention or remind
I want you out of my life

This is what I abide and believe
If that what's true
from your point of view
Then maybe this contract we don't have to do

These are the break up rules
and if you agree
it's nice to meet you
let's make plans for two
Odysseus struggles needs to prove to himself world he is talented painter determined to achieve recognition goes from art dealer to art dealer seeking support one dealer says Schwartzpilgrim stop changing settle on 1 style you can be known for what you’re doing now is good stick with it call me in 6 months with 300 drawings just like these another dealer says Odys you must learn great art is a **** beneath bed sheets another dealer says Modigliani knew how to paint flesh paint like Modigliani you need to learn more about painting Schwartzpilgrim you’re too young inexperienced another dealer says thank you for your interest in our gallery we’re not taking on any new painters at this time Odysseus knows there are people so much more talented better looking than him he feels inadequate intimidated

thinks to himself sister Penny is right female wish list is curse Bayli haunts she alone always be my ideal until i met Reiko Lee now Reiko Lee Furshe holds me captive i long for her voice eyes shoulders wiry delicateness crazy outrageous humor fiery ****** appetite i need to tear apart wish list leave myself open need to learn to seek inner beauty let anatomy fall where it will need to cultivate new standards it’s difficult to see with different eyes i am so biased how do i do this?

Odysseus muses with Reiko’s ghost 6 months since separation lights candles burns incense opens bottle of red wine pours glass for her and himself sips watches her glass while he makes toasts speaks elaborately of her beauty charm cites reasons why each of them does not need the other why couldn’t you have been the one? what is it about me you didn’t like? what did i do wrong? pours another glass begins talking louder ending in rage why aren’t you here? why? what went so terribly wrong? i love you where are you? how come you’re not here with me tonight? looks at her glass sees she has not even taken sip feels slightly drunk fearful he has sunk too deep  gets up staggers to bed sniffs blanket for traces of her tonight is their anniversary his only excuse

telephone rings sometime in late july hi it’s me Reiko how’ve you been Odys? he questions Reiko Lee? uh yes Odys it’s meee your stray puppy Reiko’s voice sounds playful tender Odys are you there? what’s up? let me come over **** and ******* please he speaks into receiver Reiko Lee is dead hangs up wonders if he has done right thing paces room writes a woman like that you tell yourself you do not need  ignore her deny her let her pass because if you admit how much you want her you become fugitive in chains running from dogs men with guns a woman like that is all you need a woman like that is motive seed chance of a lifetime a woman like that takes chances at twice your speed a woman like that keeps you guessing hoping waiting a woman like that leaves you destitute you cannot have her because she possesses you a woman like that is a wanted woman

decides to move finds new place blocks away apartment on lill street changes telephone number in his heart he knows nothing more thrilling beautiful than joyous girl yet he attracts women who seek abuse because they see themselves in him because he lets them try to mend his abused mind because he misuses them so well reaching finding joyous girl looms impossible breakup feeds venting bitter fires

the most dangerous woman eludes meall other women are too attainable chinese green tea gestapo limousine it doesn’t matter that you don’t understand that is the line darling dangling darjeeling your lips bleeding your ***** on fire imagine i am running sprinting in relay race just up ahead i’m about to pass baton this is life expectancy of poet indonesian cigarettes made of clove leaves i held your wrists pinned your fragile body to floor strummed you like guitar while other men looked on i knew one of them would take you next

miranda comes out on verandah with lemonade on hot summer day hair blows free in breeze leans back against beam softly hums inside time bomb ticks somewhere fly caught in room knocking itself against window ricocheting off corners  buzzing crisscross ceiling floor miranda sips just enough so lips are wet eyelids flutter like butterfly wings ******* swell in heat of midday sun she calls to us with hand stirs more sugar in lemonade late afternoon when fly is caught entangled in spider’s web buzzing is muffled ice has melted lemonade watery we are dozing in hammocks rocking chairs miranda is changing dress perfuming thighs crafting character in mirror screen door slams she looks up recognizing it is only wind sun is sinking orange ball spider crawls fixing aim grabs thread swings in for **** we are passed out in grass at dusk lights around verandah beam on miranda appears wearing low-neck dress with one strap down breath heavy with anise invites us inside giggling shyly as we follow timeless newsreel vision men hard at work war room spins as fly ***** desperately spider opens legs miranda lies arched on bed eyes weaving

he gets drunk loudly sings she must be some kind of witch flying in the wind she must be some kind of ***** to dig this grave i’m in he rhymes it was just another **** stunt forgive me for speaking so blunt she was just being a lady no need to get crazy it was just another **** stunt he scribbles she gets ****** hair styled eyebrows plucked nails done walks out new woman miss fox Mrs. G. Fox madame de faux meeting the girls for lunch wearing her pearls writing her name in swirls talking up a storm pack of women is worse than pack of hungry wolves wolves stop at carrion women carve combs out of bones

Cal is driving Odysseus sits in passenger seat heading to pit & pendulum for cocktails it is raining down hard Odysseus looks out beyond sweeping windshield wipers sees red cowboy boots the ones they found together at flea market there she is Reiko Lee Furshe arisen from wasteland Odysseus tells Cal to stop car turns to see her she is running across street his hand reaches for car door handle what’s happening? Cal demands are you there? i can’t stop cars behind me! this is crazy Odys what’s going on? i’m not stopping! Odysseus stares through rear window frozen watching her disappear behind red brick wall in pouring rain

ghost girl it’s difficult to write in comatose passage apart i am in theater of mirrors with empty seat beside me black hole inside me itinerary of fears i’m seeing dancer but haunted by you look in your eyes smell on your fingers clonking up stairs of your wooden clog shoes feelings we dared plans we knew might never come true la laahh la lay la lay dee la lady of shady lagoon weeping willow pisces moon like India ink you’ve left indelible stain i fumble in dark of empress’s tomb like necrophiliac i grip onto memory stroke ashes of you lantern licorice amethyst bone you are gliding in your canoe cutting through mist swirling whirlpools that untangle themselves behind you dancing nearer to flame la shady lady does pirouettes in rain
Hannah Sabine Jan 2013
oh yes honey,
i miss your voice.
like hands around my neck.
like a crying
child.
A N Friedman May 2013
Could barely get out the door today
Funny, ‘cause I walked away
Amazing how fast you get used to things
How comfortable you get with what the weekend brings
And how fast they end and go away
Left alone to face a new day
Now all left alone with all of this time
Feeling like this will be my last rhyme
Where once there was warm flesh,
Now only cold pillows and dusty blankets
Where there was comfort and company
Bad TV and empty hours
Methodical release and dark sunny days
Punctuated by corporeal storms
Half smiles with the Pyrrhic comfort
The knowledge that this time I did what was best
I stood up, I stand up, I gaze around proudly
And see that I am still an island.
With waves rapidly eroding my shores,
Dents in my harbor from boats that came to dock
And left far too soon
Sun shining on my face to attract new visitors
And I sit and wait,
Trying impossibly to be happy
with just being an island.
I call it a venom
Highest and ranked
It kills better than bad poison.
The power of breakup
Heartbreak,
I pray it does not come again .
It brought stress in my life
It came with worse dreams
I fought with the unknown
I call it the power of heartbreak.

I curse it
That it may not befell anyone because if the pain I felt
It causes,I better stay without love to avoid heartbreak.
The strain of mind
The rhetoric questions
The waste of emotions
The blame
The excuse
The tiredness...
I hate it ,i hate it
I broke up with my longtime girlfriend... And I felt the world came to a standstill, I was lost and temptedto see how the world is unfair to me...
I fought hard,fighting with my eemotions... They came in different versions...bad dreams ,stress,depression and sickness.
Finally I came over so lonely!
Ivana Feb 2014
One.
We passed a notable check mark.
The swirly twirly pieces of manipulated metal would put a smile on Buddy the Elf's face.
Their fabrication mirrored ours.
We swirly and twirly.

Two.
We thought smoking green at the **** recreation would be the least originated pun to occur. Notable check mark unflagged.

Three.
This temporary home has me craving for permanence.
I desire for your voluptuous voice to kiss my ears for a sense of familiarity.
Your printed face will be engulfed in flames.
I am a lady and we behave best under cliches.

Four.
It's the first night we won't video chat here.
The first day I will introduce myself as single to strangers and old acquaintances.
Your voice box will not be directed towards me tonight.
The first night I will not have to leave the room in order to be enchanted by your melody.
The air is stale with living mates and stories of home.
My story of home was our ending.
The room drew to a pinhead silence.
The voice of light cracking came from everyone's chests.

Five.
Socrates is impossible to pay attention to when the argument being presented is the dispute you and I. Who in the end is more wise?
Who has won this butterfly bullet shoot me in the face one more time so I remember what sensation against one's heart is like.

Six.
I saw two of them struggling, holding onto dear life.
She ran to him and gave him a passionate kiss.
They mirrored us, trying to sew up the stitching while it was being unraveled at the other end.
They needed to keep the needle and thread poking up and over up and over.
It was love's final desperation.
Final desperation of holding on.

Seven.
Mother was right, at my age my hormones just race just like my emotions.
It's been over a month since we've heard each other's voices.
The word "poljubac" came in as he went in for a kiss along with that your voice.
You loved kissing me.
At the end, they stopped meaning anything.
Your kisses, their electricity was diminished.

Eight.
I ran into Brian.
His sunglasses gave the same luminescence they did on nightly drives getting high and high and higher and higher until we were floating above Lake Shore Drive.
The green line brim on his hat matched the color.of the lights that showed during Christmas time.
It was a time for cheer. Oh ** ** ** the cheer.

Nine.
Looking through these pictures makes me sick.
I miss you.
Can we fall in love for one more night?
Have you call me duso and lay on the lawn chairs and only speak with our eyes?
Can you show me the hidden parts of the city one last time?
One last time.
Your fingertips need to be removed from my body although their prints have already formed scars.
I cut my hip because that was your favorite part of my body to touch.
I sliced it.

Ten.
I suggested that we get matching tattoos, so when you did leave that there would be a physical print of my being.
My physical touch of an idea to stay together forever would be inked in your skin.

Ten.
I'm about to embark on a spiritual journey.
My first lecture will consist on preaching of the Christian god.
Today is day one of this spiritual journey.

Nine.
I'm lying ****.
I lay on the floor and I'm **** as I sit on the floor and lie.
It was the first consistent kiss without you.
I'm lying ****.
I have time to find myself and instead I am shaking hands with my deviling unconscious greeting it with open arms.

Eight.
I have paved a path in the snow.
The bus ran over and rerouted my path.
I'm still lying.
I'm still ****.
I have lost the art of loving thyself and discovering my fullest potential.
I am a hypocrite.
I preach about the belief of discovering thyself as I bury myself in the snow and underneath these lies. The snow angels I made had horns on them.

Seven.
I lost sense of my personality when my phone was not glued to my hands and when I boy was not hanging from my lips, I lost sense of myself.

Six.
They called me into the room.
I was hoping you would be in the doorway as I strutted down the hall way.
Oh please, your grace to surprise me would fill every gaping hole in this heart of mine.
The ones that you left behind, learn to clean up after yourself.
Learn to clean up your ******* mess.

Five.
I cleaned up my ******* mess.

Four.
I'm learning day by day by day.
Today is our first month without the other.
It takes 21 days to break a habit.
I'm starting to stop thinking about you every day.

Three.
This heart of mine is torched, the pieces have melted together.
For once, I feel whole.
I asked of you last night, as bruises were forming from tackle football.
Our mutual friend said you've been better, and I asked him to make that happen.
He promised he would do his best.
The bruises were forming, they felt wonderful as the blood rushed to my skin, the blood rushed to my brain and heart it felt good to be alive.
It felt good to feel the flow of the blood against my skin as I gracefully stroke my hands across.
I discovered why you loved being in my arms because I fell in love with the feeling of being in my own ******* arms.

Two.
I fell in love, Emmett.
I fell in love with my skin the way it chaps when harsh winds beat it.
I'm in love with the way my nose wrinkles when unpleasant stories are told.
I'm in love with my spontaneity, for once I see it as a blessing.
I'm in love with my tongue rolling verbatim every time I have an opinion that needs to be preached.
I am finally my own preacher.

One.
The swirly twirly pieces of divergent thoughts in my head would put a smile on Buddy the Elf's face.
The notable check marks have been unflagged.
The pieces of shattered heart have melted together.
My skin is now my permanent home.
The tears that are now shed are for reasons I consider joyful.
You are no longer on my mind.
You are a check mark.
One that I shall pass when nostalgic.
You are the one that I wish best upon. I am the one that is best left,
now untouched.
Emily Pidduck Dec 2013
My castigation was decided long before my backslide. And that is inexcusable, the righteous might declare "unfair". But I don't want any belligerent accusations against this 'unjust watchfulness' from above. Some entity must have understood that I didn't need guidance; I needed walls: some forcing to reach my destiny. Without my jailer, I'd have chosen one of three and let them lead me into a darkness that the pitiful call 'demons'. Claws and teeth? No, each monster was irreplaceable and I loved them. If possible, if they could comprehend a 'love', I vow they would have loved me. But the Warden took them: my punishment before my crime. Perhaps the disposal of these beasts seems considerate, but toss aside those foolish illusions because the burden has not lessened rather, it is unfamiliar. Omitting strength, for I  lost my foundation, I stand in fear with this hole. The Three aren't returning; I'm left with loose bindings - the knots are the songs of my memories. Beautiful Terrors, do I need you? Let me tell you their stories.

Number One:
I remember his voice calling for me. "Daisy! Flowers for you." It was our little game, and I'm sure he made girls jealous when he handed me a bouquet of roses.
My name was Petunia, but I hated that name, and I loved all that's yellow.
So when we were little he took my hand, and we went into a treefort, and he dubbed me Lady Daisy.
He was 7 and I was 4, and there began my adoration.
Then I was older and heartbroken, and I was calling him. "Waldon! It's hurting me."
He arrived so soon, I was still in hysteria - that of a 14 year old gone through breakup.
Then I cried harder because somehow my brother presented me with a tulip and declared, "It's an early present from the only boy who's going to love you more than I do."
17, and I understood fascination. And Willow (for though it's girly, I liked it more than Waldon, and he let it be) was entranced by a wild girl. She was a shockbomb - a warm sungirl that rocked stilettos and never littered nor waited past a minute.
He fell for her so hard from so high.
One day that girl kissed him straight on the lips, then jetted off to England.
Said he could follow her in spirit.
I couldn't hate her because she left his body, but it was hard to appreciate his body when the government took even that away, insisting he be laid beneath cold dirt. Then too many questions: "Why did you hold his hand for three days? Were you thinking of following? Petunia, why won't you buy flowers for the gravestone?" Then there were horrified eyes when I asked who Petunia was, because I had forgotten. Or, truthfully, there was no Petunia, only Daisy. And Daisy had Willow. The Flower and the Tree: that was supposed to be the story. So I refused to buy flowers, and without any sort of ceremony I stopped being 'Lady' and became 'Crazy Daisy', who talked to her demons. Now you see why I never wanted to part with Number One, because although he was a monster (you can't deny the terror of a body with no spirit), he knew me best.
Dear Warden, I've no suicide in me, and there's none left could lead me there, and it may be that I've grown taller, but I'm practically blind.

Number Two:
She was weak since I can remember. I'd say her vulnerability was pneumonia, which I can only presume led to my hatred of 'Petunia': two words incredibly similar when reason encounters a child.
And I liked her name "Maribel" because it sounded like a flower.
I mimicked my brother, but he was persistent that I must call her mother.
Again, this made no sense until 8, when I had a revelation that all this time I'd had no family. At least not in the heart of a girl, because Maribel wasn't a vibrancy to look up to., though she was my one relation.
There was just her in a bed. Sometimes a man visited but I never knew why Willow grew tense; all I saw was my mother acquire spots of brown. How I loved brown, because it seemed as though she was genuinely Mother, like all those other moms that the sun tans, or that could be given filthy hugs that left patches of dirt. In turn, I always welcomed that man, and he was a 'saviour'.
And Willow's father.
Death found both Willow and that man (I know, now, the difference) before I understood 'abuse', and try not to blame me because she never complained and I thought abuse meant people were unhappy, but I saw both of them smile. I laid her beside him, but with space inbetween: a ground for my casket. Because I'd gone slightly crazy and I was telling Number Two that if I awakened as a zombie, I'd need to be able to find his hand first.
That was nuts. But Warden, I don't fully understand. You stopped her bleeding, but I'm left with nothing. I hear their voices in my head, telling me I'm healthy, but I know I'm barely breathing.

Number Three:
I dealt Three tragedy. And in doing so, I guilted myself into worthlessness. Classic to the moral law is: it is not acceptable to introduce a roommate to a shady character. But I ignored the concept of shady - applauded my nonjudgmental attitude, because with my twisted past I would have also been a shadowy figure. With a sweet, sweet smile, I handed that bright girl over to a Peacock who promised to give her 'a good feeling.' And I ignored her tears, because he said he'd please her.
Maybe if I hadn't been loopy, the only way I could "be" with One, I might have noticed that me and he weren't the same, and I could have judged him like the others.
Annie, I'm sorry, please just shine once more.
Even if you're afraid of me and my wickedness, don't be ****** into the gloom, because I can't offer advice to resurface, when I think there's none.
Now, there's Zero for me to turn to, because that's what I am. I am empty. I suppose that's what happens when I trust a boy who leaves, yearn for one who's weak, and think I've the durability to rely on myself (but I've equaled a pitch black crater for a while now).
You're more clear now, Warden. I can understand why you've taken everything. Since nothing I had would give me my fairyland ending. But where's my reward? I need my gift first, because these feet don't know which direction to head, and it's more like I was holding onto rocks that cut me while they warmed me. My feet kick against the waves, but in this half-in half-out position I can't get a good momentum, so a hand now would be nice.

My stories, did they surprise? I hear all this chatter about monsters, but I think we've got them wrong. Monsters simply have a hold one you, and there's no release before you've no choice but to part. They are strong, and it's true that I saw nothing stronger than the Willow.  Only my jailer saw my potential, and he directed me to Zero. He asked for recognition so that I knew my task was not optional and he raised my walls until I stood there, lonely - pushed into belief in myself. But now I am the strongest I know, and I am walking on wind, and from up here I cannot see a single barrier. But Warden, don't you ever leave because if those walls break for a second and I see my demons, I know I'll lose flight and beg them to come back. And that would be the end, because there's no chance Number Four.
Another slightly confusing one, so feel free to ask questions. Please don't take anything offensively, I simply thought that it's more powerful to have a strong viewpoint on 'demons'.
Mia Mar 2013
I feel really stupid
For loving you without reservations.
I feel duped somehow.
For believing you were the one.
Every girl dreams of meeting him,
I thought i was lucky.
I never expected to end up broken
Beating myself up over the years wasted.
Greys and pastels by your side
Making you happy.
There must be something messed up with me
Why couldn't i be content with bits and pieces?
Instead i wanted all of it
Unending forever together.
Joke's on me,
It really is over.
Alyssa Oct 2015
Baby ever since you left,
i couldn’t be
happier.
i’ve felt compelled
to shout to strangers
how easily i fell out of love with you.
Baby i’ve been fine.
and i mean the
shower-singing,
curtain-opening,
chinese-food-because-it’s-*******-delicious
-not-because-i’m-dep­ressed fine.
Speaking of which,
ever since you left baby,
i started eating again.
Not because i’m trying to
fill up this space but because
you stopped demanding so much of it.
I wanted to be skin
and bones for you,
expose every inch of my
flesh-tight ribcage, laying out
the pieces of me like showing you
all of my cards.
But you taught me the meaning
of a good bluff. Always pokerface,
always blank stare and
hoping i translate that as “i love you”
instead of “i’ve got more cards than you think.”
Baby you left me elbow deep in my
red dye 40 spill of a dorm room shower,
grabbing a mop
instead of stitches.
You’ve never been one to get
blood on your own hands. Baby,
baby ever since you left
i’ve had wind chimes in my bed springs,
i’ve never heard music
begging me to get out of bed before.
Brass wind instruments
making symphony of my footsteps,
creating keyboard music sheets
with each imprint.
Baby, i feel good.
Feel like that first paycheck
after a month of drought,
drinking in all of my wealth.
Ever since you left
i’ve been rich, the
juicy bite of a fresh picked apple,
the sweet lick of warm brownie
that needs milk to keep the taste from
owning you.
The whiskey glasses that kiss
the red back into my cheeks,
now that you’re gone baby
that
no longer owns me.
I can doll myself up rosacea
without having to put
a decimal point at the bottom
of my cup. Getting sober
has never felt like holding my own hand.
But baby ever since you left,
getting sober feels like my own hand,
letting go of
lipstick stained bourbon glasses
and picking up the
fingertips to the rest of my life.
it feels like nail polish
dipped in tomorrow
i have no other choice than
to keep painting myself into the picture.
and i am not sorry,
baby,
but with each brush stroke of my future,
i keep blurring you out,
making you unrecognizable.
baby, the next time you see me
i will be singing good mornings
from the soles of my shoes,
standing spinal cord straight
with a full stomach
of proud. and i will eat,
and you will wonder
how such a masterpiece
could fit onto my finger beds.
and i will wear my sobriety
like a promise ring
instead of handcuffs.
baby ever since you left
i couldn’t be happier,
even the strangers know
i will be fine.
Eleanor Rigby Aug 2014
The other night's break up
Pretty much opened my eyes.
Now I can see it all.
I can see how
You were reborn
And I can see how
I am dead.
Ahmed Saheb Sep 2015
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