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Mae Lahlee Apr 2015
I was in love once.
But it was such a long time ago,
I've begun to wonder if it was all in my mind.

Yes, there's been others since then,
But they always end in the same type of motions,
It seems to me the strangest paradigm.

Always starting with a vague sense of hope
A longing to feel a way again,
But then simply failing most definitely.


The longing for the feeling I adore,
Overpowers the longing for another's mind.
I don't even know if my heart can still hold something of that capacity.


And what  if I don't want it to?
Isn't it great to be free?
To leave all the cares behind, and live by the tide?

But wouldn't it be great to be free again?
To reside at the limit of happiness
Merely by being with that person you admire?

Even then, how could you ever know if he felt the same?
If a heart doesn't break even,
Surely it can't love equally either.

If my longing for him is greater than his for me,
What does that leave me to do,
Once his power is stronger than any other?

Or maybe it will never come to matter,
Because all these conflictions are secondary,
What I mostly fear would be much greater.

What if I can never feel that way again?
What if I've wore down my sensitivity,
And grown rock hard to the possibility of these feelings?

Maybe it's a lack of patience,
And maybe it's a complete inability.
And maybe I should just accept the reality that I may never fully connect with another human being.

Oh, what have I done to my heart.
The amateur poet Jan 2013
I've decided to start the year anew and try to figure out my problems.
Complaining at this moment in time has become redundant. For the only problem I feel is one I have created for myself. Not being able to let go, move on, I am carrying a flaw because I have become attached to. My last known friend who I can truly open up to. I am deeply conflicted with my own thoughts and don’t know where to start to fix this problem, that I have again created for myself.
To start off, I abuse him. Emotional of course, and not intentionally, but abuse none the less. Perhaps I'm subconsciously pushing him away because it’s better for him in the long run. The deeply ingrained flaws in my diverse personality are openly seen when reacting with his nature. When this has occurred with others I’ve simply distanced myself from them, allowing for my weaknesses not to be exposed… but he genuinely cares. As in basic human nature I am drawn to others that care. The romantic way no (not any more at least), for even if I wanted to love him I could not; having all guards down for another requires trust, trust only family can gain. As having only one person worthy of understanding me, well trying to at least, all the burdens are laid on him. It’s such a cruel fate but I could not help myself… before the worst of me came to light I attempted to bring some source of happiness into his life. This was a success thankfully, a beautiful and smiling ray of sunshine. Unfortunately I have come to hate this new relationship, leading to even more confliction. He deserves to be happy, but I crave his guidance and compassion. This almost primitive feeling of replacement and resentment arises, although I have already accepted him as brother, I don’t understand. Furthermore she’s the pretty girl my mind will never allow me to be. I can’t comprehend her thoughts, how can she be so happy, shallow, blind, loveable… how can she be so simple. Perhaps this is a portion of the problem, part of me longs to be more alike to her while the other resent her simplicity. Who knows, surely not I. What annoys me further is my lack of ability to explain. Trying to word all of this to him in a manner where he sees my true meaning…close to impossible. Such confliction of the mind, I see both sides and debate myself over what’s right, impossible to describe unless it is experienced. Individually I love them both, but together… I'm envious of their blind love. To experience to walk into another trap, too young to find it for real; that middle ground where options are few. Going over these things my own self-loathing increases, multiple opinions allow for one to distance herself from her own actions and analyze actions…locate the source of the problems. But here there are too many all pointing back at the ‘victim’. To cry for help when one is creating her own problems… such weakness. Do I set the one closest to understanding me free? Or continue on ignoring the cries… accepting they are a creation of my own mind. Such conflictions.
Lizzy Love Nov 2015
When romance is dulled,
and you don't have clue,
one must look inward
to seek perspective anew.

Sit in a cold, dark room
alone
and all you want is company.
Lie in a warm, cozy bed
accompanied
and all you want is solitude.

Do these daunting situations bloom
from things of which we hold comfort?
And once we have those lovely things,
we start to seek the opposite?
Sullen ponderings from a different time, probably 2013.
© Lizzy Collins
Thomas Aug 2016
My sister tells me my mom hits her when no ones around,
It's her way of expressing how she feels,
My sister was the "surprise" of the family,
And the punching bag to my mother who uses her as an outlet of her inability to understand her daughter,
How can I do something to stop her,
Yet alone say something to stand up for even myself,
I feel like a ****** tiny *** shield that's absolutely useless for protection,
I try to stand up for my sister,
Try to save her from her ever collapsing mind of depression,
While my parents try to invade her mind with religious propaganda,
I feel like a crutch for my sister that's to short but still supports her enough for her to carry on another day,
I don't talk to her about much,
She just needs someone there while she listens to TØP, FOB, BVB, MCR, etc.
While reciting every single verse by heart shaking from the emotion of the songs,
I'm not that brother who sits there and nods my head pretending to listen to bands she's trying to get me to remember,
I'm the brother who would rather remember the names of every band member of every band she trying to get me to remember,
Rather than have her sitting alone in her room having an anxiety attack wondering and thinking about everything,

I might not be as smart as her,
Or even close to understanding her,
But the one thing I get from me being her big brother is when she needs me,
Even if it's for some stupid reason,
There is nothing,
Absolutely nothing that would stop me from being there for her,
For my little sis. ❤️

Love you always.
Jess Kilbourne Jul 2014
These moments come and go
like the ebb and the flow
of the ocean.

My bones are aching
and I would say my heart is breaking
but it left long ago.

The sunflower was there
with her gorgeous long hair
that I used to love to mess up.

It looked twisted and rough
but was soft under my touch
just like my skin was to her.

If she would just leave, I believe I'd be fine,
but she keeps me in time
and if she did go, I'd be lost.

My emotions conflict
and I feel my heart constrict,
but remember, it left long ago.
Alyssa Gaul Feb 2016
Regrets fill my spoon like alphabet soup
spelling out my unfulfillment
with tiny little letters
nagging at my mind

And conflicts own me
except there’s no angel and devil
it’s just lesser evil versus lesser evil
No winner- I’m pulled apart

What if I say this
no- I can’t- too risky
but then I’m miserable
is it better to be miserable?

my daily thoughts
when it didn’t use to be
Tears are more common
than going out to eat

I am ashamed
and also ashamed I feel ashamed
I don’t want to be fragile
but I let myself fall into a crater

And people see it on my face
and I see it in the mirror
the way I once was
all entangled now in another

we don’t choose to fall
that’s the point of falling
it comes out of the blue
after you’re tripped up

And then the hurting comes
always after- like a scraped knee
and they say time will heal it
but how does that work when you keep tripping

a spinning cycle of get hurt, feel bad, tell someone, feel bad
goes on repeat, load never unloaded off my chest
The worst part is letting the hope build up
and getting let down, time and time again

Why? out into the oblivion
we ask ourselves
and How? do we keep moving
when the daily routine feels heavy

I thought my Achilles Heel was the fatal flaw
but really it's my heart, the hope, the love
when conflicts dance around
the only thing to do is write about it
Cat Fiske May 2015
I am a trying to fight myself,
someone who just wants to be right,
but is always wrong,
and what I know,
and what I feel,
are conflicting things,

Because I know how he cares for me,
But I still feel ***** with him,
I still want the boy who ***** me,
to ******* call me,
Like I've been waiting for,
for over a year,

But I love this boy who treats me well,
but I feel like I can't really,
love him,
Like I can't love anyone,
because someone went and ****** me when I really didn't want to,
and they called that love too,

so what the **** do I know about love,
because i've been so blind to it all,
Love from me since the **** has just been appreciations like friends,
and I am sorry that I have hurt you like a boy hurt me sweetie,
but I can't be loved,
and I don't want you to waste your time trying,

so maybe its best if we part ways,
because everyday I feel as if i'm holding you back,
because I am afraid for anymore impact,
because I just want my life back the way it was,
before I knew what **** and abuse was,
before my PTSD unlocked all the secrets from me.

having PTSD showed me,
No sweetie making love to boys,
isn't going to make you happy,
so I can't love someone else even if I willingly want to,
Because is it fair to any boy to be loving me and have me start crying,
because I feel like there the boy who ***** me,

but I know the boy who ***** me is bad,
but I feel like he is the only one who could love,
a mess like me,
because he made the mess,

I just want to feel safe around all guys,
I just want to feel loved,
And my mind and heart,
are a battleground over what I am supposed to do,
because it's hard to move on just a little over a year after you learned,

the boy you loved who you dumped ***** you,
and how your breakup had nothing to do with the ****,
and how that makes everything harder and complicated to get,
and you just are always upset because he still never called,
and you really want that phone call,
so you can say you're sorry,

because you just want to be happy,
because even though things with him were bad,
you were happy,
and you want that back,
instead of crying over the bad thing that happened in the past,
you just want something good again.
my problems
Zoe Dec 2011
i want to let it go
but it pulls me in
i want to say *******
but i would feel so bad
i want to forget
but i want to remember every detail
i want to go
but i want to stay
i want to feel
but i want to be numb
i want to help
i want to heal
i want to be free
i want to love
Alexander S Mar 2010
It’s interesting, being with You
I have such conflicting feelings
About our relationship

Not between good and bad
But both positive
On one hand, You make me feel so comfortable
Being with You is like laying in a warm bed
Utterly content, and I don’t want to move

But equally powerful is the excitement
I’ve been with you for to years
And we’ve learned volumes
What happens in ten…twenty?
How will You…I…We…change?
I guess that’s what relationships are about
Things shifting and learning
With that one constant
That one comfort
Love
Zoe Feb 2012
inner thoughts
clouding what needs to be done
outer influences
preventing me from going anywhere
your just perfect
never change
inner thoughts
containing my wants
outer influences
tightening my leash
your just perfect
never change
inner thoughts
never ending
outer influences
dragging me away
your just perfect
never change
Ashley Etienne May 2014
Don’t let me hear the silence that comes without company.
anticipating at least one note. one beat, but it never comes.

i was mistaken, i was under the assumption that silence travels alone but alas it brings a friend. it brings my thoughts. so desolate, so desperate and eager to feed.
They will eat me alive
they will devour any hope that i have had for a better life
they will deconstruct my atoms and reconstruct my very manner so that my being is unintelligible.
i will become A monster

I try not to let my thoughts
Linger for too long in fear that they may close in on me.
for i am my strongest predator
in this jungle. I try
Not to think about
The nonexistent possibilities.
the things i imagine to keep myself sane.
I know we will never be. So I
Know I never see the daylight
And have you also lying right
Next to me.

The words “you’re beautiful”
grande jete off of your lips and into my point of view. I flash a modest smile just to please you. But deep down I know that was
Just one incredible lie.
I’m dying to know the truth.
“Am I really beautiful?”
My answer to myself is no
I am nothing.
a lesson on self hatred portrayed through almost loves
I am the first page of a well-loved novel,
But often the first one ignored,
Dog-eared and transparent at the corners
From the touch of one too many hands
And witness to the enterprising twist of a smile
As my readers are privileged to only pieces of me.

You, like the binding that surrounds me,
Enclose and encircle all that I am. Write a novel
Under my skin. I’ve falsified too many smiles,
Sacrificed even the best of myself for ignorant
Delusions of caressing hands
That take and abuse my corners.

The used bookstore on the corner
Of Middlebury Marbleworks, Otter Creek and window-origami —
My salvation and river-penance. Seek my story with hands
That feel to comprehend, with novel
Softness and a tenderness that ignores
My pleading glances and indecisive smiles

As you speak in hush-whispers. Smile
With your eyes as you touch my spine — corner
Me at the exit. I want you to ignore
Faults, make peace with flaws that inhabit me
Like poetry misplaced within a novel,
Or willow branches falling too low, tired hands.

I memorized the shape of your hands
The first time we danced to Chaplin’s “Smile,”
And wrote on the broadness of your shoulders a novel
Of my sins, apologies stretching to your corners
In villanelles — repeating refrains. It took all of me
To tell you what I could no longer ignore.

Because once you start to ignore
Conflictions that exist in the nerve-endings of your hands,
What you feel becomes a burden. For me,
Sand ran out of the hourglass when our smiles
Stopped touching — and at the corner
Of Maple Street and Printer’s Alley, I said goodbye, our novelty

Gone. Still, I find it hard to ignore what used to be when you smile
As you look at her, your hands on her back in the corner
Of the room. You remain my unfinished novel.
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
It's not exactly hatred worth clinging onto
Rather the distant clawing of the child once...
Nothing much of innocence towards the heart
And little trace of the one left behind

A fear of self lives within the shell
Awaiting the spark needed to rise again
But under lock and key behind chambers
Personified and split within the mind

Is a cure in sight or is delusion a calming lie?
The horror in the cure is slowly surpassing
the truth in the lie that weighs heavy in deceit
The consequences of inaction will be the greatest undoing

To have attempted and failed to run and hide
from this is a life shrouded in a hazy mind
For the one who is to endure is conflicted
The quiet in this soul is never acquiesced.

© 2013
before the world swallows you whole,
leaving you barely able to exhale all that continues to weigh you down,
or inhale all that is destined to cast away your inner conflictions.

just...
breathe
Noelani Kamai Jan 2017
***
Three years and what do I have to show?
A love sick husband and his alcoholic foe.
There are bottles upon bottles awaiting disposal,
wherein lies my empty proposal,
I will quit.
I will be better.
Things will change.
But does he know of my sorrow and my conflictions?
That maybe "us" isn't the right situation?
That time only told of our failing and misery,
and our inability to escape our unforgivable history.

I hear the hurt in his voice when I call him every day
and I know of the words he's fighting to say,
I can't do this anymore.
I hoped things would change.
It's over.
You try to convince yourself that things will be better.
You try to convince him of the things you wrote in that letter.
I will do what you want me to, to keep you here,
but I cannot sacrifice myself, to whom I am sincere.

A hopeful relationship ruined by an act of selfishness.
A yearning to love but retrained by oppressiveness.
So does hurt, and a want to love save a ****** connection,
or does fate condemn it to eternal damnation?
The Noose Oct 2013
I am forever in a state of delusion and dreaming that blinds me from reality

I spend hours imaging the most perfect version of myself that I want to be but fail to be
I convince myself reality is like what I’m conjuring up the realisation that it's not, crushes me
I am always surprised every time
Like it's something new

I am standing behind myself waiting to step inside myself and embrace reality and embrace the person I am but I cannot because I hold my hopes in the person I could be

Sometimes I feel like I want to step outside of myself but every
attempt I always fall off a cliff

I want to peel these layers of ******* I am hiding under

I am searching for the calm
An end to these hideous emotions that have become a burden

Dizzy from going around in circles in this tiny world with such an insignificant existence
Repeating the same behaviours
Being eaten by the same conflictions
I have been fighting demons for years
And I have spent a decade fighting myself when I should've been happy

Sometimes it feels as though the
walls inside my head are caving in
My head is caving in
Scraped knees, dirt in my finger
nails from the muddy ground of
my tortured mind in a vain
attempt to crawl through the
spaces back to reality again

A prisoner of my own mind
how does one escape
themselves?!
I can't find the door
There are too many corridors
and clutter
I have to create my own door
Through the top of my  head
In the past month i have been depressed, angry, ecstatic, energetic, lifeless, happy, and hopeless.I have hated myself and i have loved myself. I have done things that i never thought i would.  I regret some of them. Others confuse me with the way i want them and want their complete opposites. I am a man of complete confliction. I am scared that my confliction has cost me you. I fear I am alone. But i know i am not. I have people, some that i want in my life, others that i don't.  And i have God. A god i at times scream at, whisper to, or share a secret smile or sadness with. A god that i trust, but that i fail maybe even more than minutely.  A god who you believe is using this circumstance, this what seems like utter loss, but is really just the building of walls, the lessening of potential, the closing of doors, to make me turn to him. And i am turning, but i am still failing. I am still conflicting. I fear i will forever. And that i will never be good enough. That i will never return to the state of  being enough to be with you.  That i have given you up for my conflictions, my mistakes, lusts, wants, and compulsions.  You are  guarded. I am guarded. I can no longer lay my self before you. I cannot bring myself to.  I do not know if it is for this, or for something else that you  have your walls, walls that i never wanted, expected, or even feared could exist. I have been blindsided by this. But you are not here to help me. God is, but i remain in this limbo of thoughts and actions that dont add up.
it's ok Jul 2014
It's not the way the problem is caused,
But rather who caused it
It's not the subject of the problem,
But if you're willing to overlook it depending
"Friend or foe" till you find a finite fiend smiling
May your conflictions rest, and leave yourself to figure out

Is the person you love, still the person you love?
or are you in love with the memories and a shell
of someone you once loved
*Is goodbye a little closer, now?
Amanda Francis Jan 2017
Your contradictions spawn conflictions in my mind
your left, right means up, down.
Your hello means goodbye!

I love you means...

I can't find the silence, you've got me talking in my sleep
your brazen, media-vomited words burn my eyes at every turn
a facebook generation of mindless self-indulgence. You're herding us like sheep!

Your acceptance means...

Our bodies a £1 per kilogram, a friend request per ******* picture.
All of the reflections have glassed eyes for our souls have been reduced to stocks.
So many cracks in humanity, a group for every side, we don't know why were fighting. To far apart to see the divide.

Your acceptance means I love you.
I love you means you will never be good enough!
Natasha Jan 2017
empty aching, waking
to cold feet and
grey blinds shadowing
the lusterless world outside.

deserted suburb, thoughts racing
minds fumbling, trying
to get past their persisting knots,
prying.

heavy headed, how can I not be? many conflictions, strange decisions
shadowing the small cracks
in lifes lens- I wander blindly.

silent world, technological hum fills the tense void. it is almost still
but if you listen close,
a quiet, violent noise.

a swarm of a thousand locusts; the moments before they cast themselves upon a city. we are are the waiting, herded to our daily lives- like dull, dusky sheep.

can you hear it? it is coming
change is in the air; do not hide- no, there is no use running.
for it will consume all of us inevitably.

crushed petals,
another budding rose,
smothered-
by our manifested reality.
Where is the world going in such a rush?
Abraham Montalvo Dec 2014
Conflicted:
I.Watching this life as the years go by, knowing I'm just a man of bones and flesh can't do much to keep these conflicted thoughts at rest,
II.People so quick to judge about my mistakes I made long ago, the past is past but can't stay in the back, gets thrown in my face like hurtful words that hit ya fast,
III.Haters gonna hate about the **** they've never been through, given an easy life they don't know what the **** I've been through, I'm not perfect **** I make my mistakes, takes a real ****** person to admit this **** straight,
IV.The goodness in me trying to maintain humanity and hope for the shallow world of fools without hope sitting in their high pious seat of glory and money at heart they're all just miserable ***** worse off than me, even broke and a joke to em all, ha they'll eat those stupid *** words,
Conflicted thoughts, two sides to a coin, playing with the ying and yang of life, sometimes I say why Lord why? Why can't you just remove me from the pain of this life? My soul is slowly withering away from the struggles I go through day by day, the hate in me is starting to develop, bitterness setting in this is the truth of being afflicted with conflictions,
V. Even through this all I'm pushing past the **** I hear and see, learned that words can hurt but so can my logic, all these fools are just my enemies as a footstool beneath me, guess what I'm back up from the restraints of life and pain, on my path to greatness and glory, not a person of pride and not of worry. Guess what your ******* won't hurt me...™
Conflict of two sides, in our lives we go through.
wichitarick Aug 2016
Loose congregation of words ,mixed syllables,sounds ascending to  an annunciation made upon announcement
Clashing conundrums of verbs accented with adjectives  ,while crashing and dashing looking for a place to stay
Confections with conflictions searching for reasons to become more easily resounded
Papier-mâché used as the blind box  waiting to reveal its hidden appeal ,will we use sticks for new words fray.


Teachers use their rulers to help crack the skin or  layer of drooling uninterested information gatherers
  Finding synonyms is easier with a hungrier  fool  ,yet opposites distract if paying pledges to the papers
Finding the unknown fabulous riches still hiding inside is best without the blindfold ,hearing proper direction is what matters
Cracking the outer code ,scattering packages of messages is titillating especially if involved  as crossword players

Clarification containers from Macmillan help refine an ongoing array of writing gone astray
Pulling new or familiar sounds to another level ,hollow waiting to filled with tasty sweets
True copy that has been pasted,not wasted gathered into changing shapes in a new way
Can make our day, just right for many to explore the contents, blindly poking formulating new treats

Thesaurus as a party tool could it be  taking on the shape of a walrus
Antonyms with  many wrappings ,nuggets or nougats of wisdom
Wordy party favors masked new flavors seeking to be savored ,hidden like walnuts
Players programmed with reading ritual learn to approach life with new optimism.
R.C.
I Liked the title & saved it , so I added more over time ,not my normal method or how I originally came by writing my feelings down anyway. still feel it weak ,with so words,language,could have taken it another way, with a  PINATA  being Hispanic & often times language barriers ,but everyone can acknowledge candy ,treats or sweets :)
  Thank you for reading. still getting a feel for release.so any input is appreciated . Rick
Carrillo Nov 2015
Behind this false face, remain flawless conflictions
A mask of such wrath, and endless contradiction
Good deeds are unseen, Anger is routine-- never in between, because bliss is obscene
Clouds keep me in but soon, pours me out
into an unkind world
where i can’t even shout
These shards of obstacles whirl like a tornado, it’s throwing up the pieces,
watch them twirl like a dreidel
I endured predictions, but i stood my ground
suffered addictions, but made a turn-around
My heart stays with God, my mind is working hard, to finally understand now
that i won’t be forgiven until the day i can forgive myself
Foundation can crack, and still support a tower
my structure may lack but that does not oppress my power
I shall not cower, when my future over-rules my past, because I’ll be the person with the last laugh
In fact, my life was one big conviction, but what the jury doesn’t know is that the world molds intentions
This mask of complexity distorted my vision-- finally it deteriorates
revealing ambition
Isobel G Dec 2010
A fallen star unto you,
Inner conflictions tear me apart,
Fire and Ice,
Heart-ache ripping at my sides,
The pull of obligation,
Drowns me, dragging me down,
Into a pit of despair,
Knowing the weight of your will,
Can release me,
From his arms as he whispers:
"Only Death can tear us apart",
Then tear us apart,
Of you I ask, an escape,
Before the inevitable
©Nicola-Isobel H.     28.12.2010
Julian Cardona Jun 2011
What you see is a mirror. It is filled by your perceptions.
What you see is not a window.
My mirror is filled with conflictions.
To yearn for greatness and nothingness. To seek substance in solitude.
I wish to be and for my mirror to reflect it all.
But my mirror does not shine.
Nor does it show greatness, substance.
Your mirrors suggest it all, glimmer radiantly.
My mirror is not your mirror.
Any one of them.
My mirror doesn't show the flicker of my dreams.
In reality, there is no greatness, substance.
Only existence in its rawest form.

Fear shrouds reality.
My reality.
What my mirror shows is the current day.
Group of hours by group of hours.
The miniscule amount of light does not reveal the future.
Nor could it; for the future is never in sight.
Even in thoughts of it, the future is not truly existent.
Fear shrouds it's reality.
Uncertainty beckons fear.
Yet...
I find comfort in conversation.
When everything else blurs out of focus.
When my existence is more than just existing.
Connecting, sharing, meaning.
But it doesn't last.

I envy sleep's constant serenity.
I do not envy sleep's inconsistency.
My dreams rarely align with my attempts,
and even then they do so with great difficulty.
My dreams are much higher than my reach.
I am not what your mirror shows.
I am not what I have dreamed.
I only am the years I existed.
And that haunts me.
Ein L Wells Jun 2013
I am well grounded
My roots digging deep into wisdom
Perpetuating an inner strength
That can withstand any storm
My virtues out stretch like branches
Baring sweet nourishing fruit
Setting troubled minds at peace
Within the first bits

Come to me when
The sun scotches your calm
Find comfort in the shade of love
Let natures healing breath
Move you like the leaves
Once wrestling, now dancing in joy
Exhale the tension of insignificant conflictions
So that your transformation
might bring change to the world
Lamb Jul 2014
Sometimes I just wonder

Wonder about everything and anything
Wonder about the past, the present, and the future
The possibilities, chances, wishes, dreams

And sometimes thinking about all this
Makes me petrified
Scared for what is to come
Worrisome of my choices
Indecisive of my path
Hesitant of my actions
Unsure, wavering, uncertain
And at other times
I am excited
Ready for the world
Broadening my horizons
Prepared to spread my wings
And soar
Ability to be
Anyone I want to be
To decide however I want to decide

And then sometimes I just wonder

Wonder about everything and anything
Wonder about the past, the present, and the future
The possibilities, chances, wishes, dreams

And then I stop
I stop wondering and question
I marvel at my conflictions
I embrace the opportunities
Laid out before me

Sometimes I just wonder

If wondering is a waste of my time
If thinking too much
Can cause you to walk in circles
In a never-ending cycle
Within this immeasurable infinity
Of such an inexhaustible vastness
Which we call our world

I wonder again
Maybe this is what makes me human
Harmony Sapphire Feb 2015
The evil eye sees.
Blindness is not how to be.
Disrespected, envied, or hated.
Alone I waited.
Safe in solitude at "home".
Inside is better & quiet.
I dislike noise.
Temperature has to be just right.
The air & the water.
Not too hot or cold.
Conflictions is not what I am after.
Controversy is not what I am about.
I wish you not to speakth my name.
To return from where you came.
I wish to remain the same.
Despite the past to blame.
To be as I were.
Self known & home grown.
Like a **** from a planted seed.
Texted & not phoned.
Censored online & not followed.
Never corner me or you will void what's hollow.
A nobody & nameless.
With my own face but fameless.
Unadmired & unreachable.
Installed now & later.
Doing what matters.
Unvoted & gathered.
I will try to keep my opinions & thoughts to myself.
To be a private person.
Unknown & unpopular the way it has always been.
© Harmony Sapphire . All rights reserved
Terry O'Leary Jan 2019
.              <Once ShallowMan had dared to question>
              <FactoidMan’s sublime suggestion:>
“With a little predigestion
all my Facts compel ingestion
helping shallow decongestion.”

                               “FactoidMan, take no offense,
                               I know your knowledge is immense
                               amidst your store of Facts quite dense,
                               yet still I’m hanging in suspense
                               about your unassumed pretense
                               and if (or not) your Facts make sense.
                               What say you, sage, in your defense?”

“My Facts are self-sustaining views
supported by my mighty muse;
if disbelief is what you choose
just listen to the gull that mews,
eructing fake and faulty news.”

“My Facts are meant for one and all”
              <cried FactoidMan within the stall>
“I plop them out and when they fall
(yes, be they large or be they small)
they leave all witnesses in thrall.”

              <Then FactoidMan informed the crew>
              <(you know the ones, the chosen few,>
              <who try to twist his Facts askew,>
              <subjecting them to peer review>
              <which puts them in the waiting queue>
              <for litter to be hid from view):>
“Well Facts are Facts, yes that is true
so don’t be sad and don’t feel blue
when sitting dazed without a clue;
once more, that’s why I’m here for you.”

“For in my wisdom you may wallow
if you simply seek and follow,
chew my Facts, then gulp and swallow,
stuff your soul, now blank and hollow.”

                               “But FactoidMan, I fail to see
                               the emptiness inside of me”
              <said ShallowMan with modesty>
              <and cert’nly not hyperbole.>
                               “You’ve filled me with a potpourri
                               of concepts bathed in harmony
                               all self-contained and error free
                               (adjudged by you, the referee,
                               with whom no one could disagree
                               and still remain your devotee).”

              <FactoidMan may steal a stride>
              <with Miss Direction at his side>
              <to conquer, baffle or divide;>
              <she sometimes slyly serves to guide>
              <us on a roller coaster ride>
              <through subtle logic simplified>
              <and fuzzy Facts unverified.>

“We’ll make you guys sit back in wonder
stealing all your blood and thunder
when you’ve found you’ve made a blunder,
thrusting you to realms down under
dank defeat, dun dirt and dunder
(pseudo-logic’s would-be plunder,
Miss Direction’s torn asunder).”

                               “Do Miss Direction’s humble graces
                               pivot progress towards new places
                               into which loose logic races
                               (hinged on fundamental bases
                               counter argument outpaces)?
                               And what about the other cases
                               tied with loose ends time unlaces?
                               Just *******, reason soon erases
                               leaving lumps or tiny traces
                               in the gaps and other spaces?”

“Yes, Miss Direction will confirm
my wisdom hides no wily worm,
though simpletons will surely squirm
with Facts they fail to disaffirm
within the short or longer term.”

“She can lecture, you can learn
about the twists at every at every turn
in arguments that you should spurn
when served an ace but can’t return
without disgrace and ego burn
that leaves your ashes in an urn.
(In case you listen, you’ll discern
that winning spins are my concern.)”

              <Well ShallowMan was full of stunts,>
              <posed one more question which confronts:>
                               “Although your data sometimes blunts
                               the points of other’s arguments
                               your reasoning quite oft affronts
                               when based on claims  that logic shunts.
                               Well, won’t this break your covenants?”
              <Then Miss Direction screamed at once>
              <that “ShallowMan’s a silly munce”.>

“But that is neither here nor there”
              <said FactoidMan with scant a care>
“for ShallowMan may often err:
without my Facts, he’s not a prayer,
so should believe and be aware
that truth is mine and never dare
to think new thoughts (and so despair).”

              <Then FactoidMan revealed a frown>
              <in which a pompous smirk could drown:>
“Yes, ShallowMan’s a depthless clown
who must look up for seeing down;
he lives his life in Flatland Town,
his thinking cap’s a dunce’s crown.”

              <But ShallowMan took no offence>
              <though things were getting kind of tense>
              <(with some regrets for being dense)>
               <and answered in his own defense:>
                               “At times credulity replaces
                               rationality in cases
                               where belief in faith’s the basis
                               (filling holes with empty spaces)
                               voiding proofs that logic traces.”

“Does logic really play a role?
It’s certainly not the aim or goal!
Instead, to wheedle or cajole,
while using Facts which I control,
is somewhat simpler on the whole.”

                              “Oh FactoidMan, it’s now so clear
                               the reason why we need you here,
                               protecting from the puppeteer
                               who pulls our strings to interfere
                               with Facts of yours we should revere,
                               and paves our path with morbid fear
                               our straight and narrow bent may veer
                               from certainty you hold so dear,
                               rejecting theories which cohere,
                                ensconced in science, so sincere;
                               and all be ****** should doubts appear.”

“ShallowMan, if you’ve conflictions
owing to your mind’s addictions
to subconscious maledictions,
due to doubt in old convictions;
tell me now of your afflictions.”

                               “FactoidMan, I must confess
                               I understand you more or less
                               though subtleties provoke distress,
                               and even more your fine finesse
                               inclines to make my mind compress.
                               Forgive me now my cheekiness
                               in asking you for some redress;
                               although you’ve certainly gained success
                               convincing others, nonetheless
                               my valuations retrogress
                               to untold depths of shallowness
                               the more your reasons (which impress
                               onlookers with your cleverness
                               at citing Facts, most referenceless)
                               dissolve like dragons in Loch Ness.”

              <Well FactoidMan must simply smile>
              <(and sometimes chuckles for a while)>
              <when ShallowMan acts infantile>
              <and won’t attempt to reconcile>
              <those Facts that rhyme like truth and guile.>

                               “I know that all you say’s legit
                               though oft your Facts sound counterfeit
                               and leave my dawning mind unlit
                               (just feeling like a retrofit).
                               But, on the whole, I must admit,
                               a mental fog’s a benefit;
                               when eyes are closed and hairs are split
                               expressions vague, I might submit
                               although the Facts don’t seem to fit!
                               Please help me once to cope with it.”

“Oh ShallowMan you’re so amusing
when my Facts you find confusing;
you’ve no profit when refusing
simple truths of my own choosing;
bathe in wisdom I’m suffusing
when awake or else while snoozing.”

                               “Oh FactoidMan, ’twould be a sin
                               to mourn for thoughts that might-have-been
                               if you had had more time to spin
                               some arguments to underpin
                               conclusions bringing much chagrin
                               to those who try to do yours in.
                               For yes, it seems your notion’s thin
                               (though acrid, sweetened up within
                               a grain of salt called saccharin).”

“Yes, ShallowMan, you must have known,
I’d find your mindset set-in-stone
when claiming notions underblown
(especially those I call my own)
ignoring all the Facts I’ve shown,
a lapse to which you’re plainly prone.”

                               “No, FactoidMan, I’m not disbanding
                               your contentions so outstanding
                               (even though they need expanding
                               for a thorough understanding);
                               with some polish or else sanding
                               (you know, somewhat less demanding)
                               they might make a model landing,
                               lack of catwalk notwithstanding.”

“To answer you I’ll write a ditty
getting to the nitty-gritty,
oh so lofty, oh so witty,
where the Facts shine, oh so pretty;
if you’re lost, then more’s the pity,
tell it to my subcommittee,
‘Miss Direction’s Detour City’.
Now it’s time to feed the kitty.”

              <Well FactoidMan’s concluding quip>
              <to give advice and hold his grip>
              <(by letting words of wisdom drip)>
              <displayed adroit one-upmanship:>
“Hubba hubba, ching ching ching,
now I’ve taught you everything
without a hook, without  a string;
you needn’t clutch, you needn’t cling,
just bow instead and kiss my ring.”
Claire Trafton Apr 2013
I won’t get too close to you.

I can only give you so much,
It’s dark inside my heart,
And I don’t dare reveal a word.
I fear the consequences,
I’m scared.
Scared to love for the first time.

Take a look at me now.

You wouldn’t remember me, I’m all spread out.
And I never would have been this way,
If you hadn’t left me lonely.
That day when you stopped isn’t over
And I don’t think the pain ever will.

You have been such a gentleman.

You have seen some tears and pain.
But I still can’t let it happen.
I’m sure it never will,
It’s not your fault, it’s mine and his.
But I’m about to reach my limit
And I’m anxious for your reaction.

You never truly left.

There’s a place in me where you still linger.
Where your voice leaks through the cracks in my heart,
Your smile patiently waits for a kiss,
And your fingertips forever rest in my hands.
The worst is my idle love for you:
It can’t act; it can only hold on to what isn’t there.

You’ve given me more than I deserve.

Tonight I need you… and tomorrow,
But that’s all it will be, never more.
Part of me is never going to be ready
And another part doesn’t want to let go.
Through hurting myself I am hurting you.
Yet I won’t let you in.

I can’t help but to dwell.

You are only an idea now, and maybe you always were.
Something so **** beautiful
Can’t end with such sadness.
But I don’t think imagination
Can splinter a girl’s heart to scraps.
But I don’t think imagination
Can torture nightly dreams.

You are the same.

Perfectly you, matchless,
Unlike any other.
And part of me will always be yours.
But everything does come to an end,
No matter the beauty or ugliness.
And that’s where my history repeats.

I can’t count the mistakes.

I’m sorry for making you decide.
I’m sorry for the conflictions.
I’m sorry for the change in you.
I’m sorry for the pain.
I’m sorry.
For everything I ever caused.
Zigmaz F Jul 2016
Thank you for setting me free.

See, I wasn't ready for you.
Always second to your lovers,
Always waiting on the sidelines,
My confidence was lacking.

I was better off giving you up
And handing you over to the other
Rather than pour my love into someone
Who still desired another.

I believed in you
I understood the conflictions.
I stuck around,
I stood true.

In return,
You have shunned me from your life,
Erased our friendship,
Tied a knot to the connection.

Even after all the trials and tribulations
I visited with you.

You've set me free,
Seeking what is
Genuinely true.

And I can't thank you enough.
Adellebee Oct 2012
I sit; I sit in a curled up ball of skin and tattoos
I sit; I sit naked on the floor of my shower
The water flowing over my rolls and dripping from my hair
You think you understand the haste of my rash conflictions
I try to live the lie out, I try to peruse the ever after
I hold the flame underneath the water, and wonder why I am cold?
How does the pain of life subside?
How do I become millions and then back to debt?
Opened my eyes under water, and I am freed of tears
Bryn Dawes Apr 2015
As I stood there,
Full of thoughts so thoughtlessly thinking,
Drinking deep with an inclination that I do not think was ever there before,
Though never there but seeming very real in my despair,
Unwittingly I stood there,
Sinking still forevermore

Wherever from I do not know,
Forlorn for far too long, long ago,
Labouring lonely on my own,
Finally finding some sort of sedate sedition,
At last some affinity with forever’s finite infinity

And, I do recognise the conflictions and oxymoronic oppositions,
But as such it is a necessary dereliction of definitive definitions,
And yet it all still makes so much sense to me,
Profanity in profound insanity,
What gravity

What gravity the vulgarity of these verbalising vultures voicing victorious vitality,
Before banality and such boring finalities,
Then suddenly one’s head grew heavy, hence and thus, dropped into dust,
Deep into the darkness ****** to which only few have ever been privy,
There lay the bust of Miss McHale

Though long pale and so frail in death’s derail of life’s long trail,
Beauty somehow still prevailed in such a sorry sickening tale,
In time long lost to those foreign and some still long mine,
Destined besotted are entwined,
In life and death we tumble and take turns to stumble into things we cannot perfectly define

Love, love was inclined to go through,
Adversities, I had to climb to try and find the only word for you,
A word that can only be mine and said once and really meant for you, that one time
To us that word will confine, but I cannot find,
Nor conform or confide in any known way to accurately represent my mind

Though sometimes that can be just fine,
That word can escape me, but you will still be mine,
And along with finite infinities,
There is the very possibility that we are something that just cannot be defined,
Although I do not understand it, you will still be mine

And yet you crave to climb that rail,
Atop a limousine after your tumble through an Empire’s gale,
States of life try to live on in death but always fail,
As blood runs still and last breathe exhales,
Though immortalised now evermore prevailed,
In beauty and brutality ultimately availed,
The immortal end of the ever humble Miss McHale
this guy combs Sep 2014
lately all ive been doing is ******* up, Burning Every thing, seems like with one Touch, soon as i get one person to stop being mad at me, Bam its like another 3 all ready have a Bone they want to pick with me, forever in my mind fighting conflictions of Decisons i never wanted to make, but this world i live in has no intentions of letting me out the Gate, Fate has no Remorse it stands still while you take your Course. we never know how its going to play out, we just happen to be there for it, Rather its bad or good, we there to take it with full stride, you standing there infront of a window thinking whats wrong With suicide, Till you Realize u can go out like that, Maybe its to much pride, Maybe i can get her to see the man i use to Be, Before the scars that time left, and Sheilds that remain Kept high, when you avoiding being loved, u get comfortable with Misery, u wait for bad things to Happen, Acting as if you aint Worried about it, Untill you Face a Sittuation where you can do noting but worry about it, your mind is the first to turn, the min your eyes close, your biggest Fears take over, Main Stage pain plays, and ya heart sings, before you know it, the words that leave your your lips stained, ill do what i can just dont take my Love away, one thing ive learned on this path i seem to walk, you can Avoid love all you want, But it has a funny way of keeping up, it will never show its self untill that unknowing feeling reveals the feeling that it is and turns out it was love its self, so the question becomes what is it i was running from, or was i just hurting my self?
Neal Emanuelson Feb 2015
Dry-eyed passerby seeking shelter
from the conflictions of one's reality
finds the irony in the comfort of being sad

Amongst the day old blues that hang from wires
and the constant surveillance of the hounds
there's little to behold of purity in angst

Screened the world for clarity and found solitude
in the millisecond cure of faint bubbles
blown by the breaths of the innocent

The dark and frozen lands traveled over
hid the joy of light in the most obtuse of places
The smile on a child's face.

© 2014
The Noose Oct 2013
The result seems so far removed from all of my efforts to get here
The chase has been accomplished, but....
The void is still unfilled
My head still full of thoughts
The darkness still drips in through the holes
Unsatisfaction
Sorrow still lingers
Why is it so
It's as though I have forgotten all that I put myself through, all my efforts

Weary of standing on the edge of this tight rope, it's getting old
I'm getting old(er)
At some point I have to let go of my conflictions but some things never fall away

My life at present is doing the exact opposite of falling apart
but I still am.
Casey Rodger Apr 2018
From fire to water, earth to air,
From seed to tree, shop to table and chair,
Light and dark, high and low,
Plain and simple the story go,
Opposites exist, and they exist together,
Day time, night time; whatever the weather,
The moon does not give light to spite the sun,
They shine together as one,
So opposite but still coexisting,
I do not see what we humans are missing..
You have conflictions inside you, and thats okay,
I have contrast in me too, we were made this way,
Point is, balance is key,
The balance between survival and unity,
But you're deeper then the mirror you see,
Don't be afraid to venture in and peek,
Dig deeper in halfs or quaters,
Sink further and live beyond your shallow waters,
Let it be known that opposites exist,
There . I said it .. Erased the myth.

Forget trying to be equal by the standards we as humans have created for ourselves; gender, religion, wealth, appearance, history, race, sexuality etc . Because fact is we're never going to be the same, we're never gonna be equal - Don't fight to be equal when we're all so amazingly different.. Fight to be able to do what you want. Free the female ******, let the lady boys use the female bathroom, let the age distanced couple go for gold, let the Muslims in, let the boys kiss eachother on the train, let Donald Trump get assassinated, let us smoke ****!! BECAUSE OUR LIVES END ! With or without a closure child to leave behind you'll die one day and that will be IT! So just embrace whatever it is you are, and just go with it . Learn so that hopefully your soul will go on to a more profound existence.

— The End —