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"deleting" poems
Tap tap Scroll scroll Click click Hit like (they'd probably hit like back) Excuse me how dare you unfollow me (here, I'm unfollowing you too) Um, I really do not like your content (but I don't wanna lose a follower so there you go) How did this photo get only 40 likes (deleting it now) How did she have so many followers (all of her posts are ******* Wanna have dinner? (We can spend 2 hours sitting across each other while our hands are glued to our phones.) Hey, want to meet up? (So we can post social media stories to make it look like we're having fun.) Hi, how was your day? (Oh wait, I'll just check on your feed.) Hey, how'd everything go with that job interview you had today? (Right, I'll just look at your FB status.) Hi, do you ever wanna talk? (But you know, on the phone, or like, only online?) Connect to disconnect
0
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 10:28 PM UTC
Black Mirror
You texted me a hello and a Happy New Year You asked how I was doing and I responded “Doing Well” I returned your question of “How are you doing” I followed after with “Did you have a good New Year’s Eve” You kept your responses simple and vague You left my second question hanging by only answering with ‘Working a lot’ and stating how happy you were to hear I was doing well Your short, simple responses gave nothing away About what has occurred in your life Since the last time we had a willing and connected conversation The way you responded left me to wonder The reason why you contacted me Your distant responses made it very clear That this would be the last time you and I would ever talk This is the end of the two of us The end of you and I The end of any possibility of you and I being one As I quietly sit in the Marketing Room Thinking about the obvious next step I waiver on my decision to delete your number off my Blackberry forever I questioned whether I would regret this decision Then an old quote by Khalil Gibran came to me: “If you love somebody let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don’t, they never were.” Believing the truth behind his words, I proceeded to clearing our messages And deleting your number off my phone Until next time.. If there is one.. Only time will tell..
0
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
The End of Us
A fashion designer has defended models who were labelled as "gaunt and unwell" on Facebook. Andrea Moore's I AM range is sold at Farmers, and an image from its current campaign was posted on that company's Facebook page on Friday. The picture features Chiara and Norina Gasteiger, who are twins represented by Clyne Model Management. Farmers customers did not react well to the now-deleted post. "They so look gaunt and unwell. I'm really disappointed," Newshub says Anna Webster commented. "You cannot look at these girls with their bones sticking out and believe that they are a good role model for a family store," Jo Austwick wrote. "I have enough trouble with body image arguments with my daughters without these images being depicted. They do not look healthy." Moore said the imagery had never been intended to cause offence, and that she felt for the Gasteiger twins, who have worked with the brand for three years. "The twins are actually healthy, fun models who are busy university students... We love working with them because of their sense of self-worth and uniqueness as twins," she said. "We have been in touch with the models and they were most upset by the whole thing. Fortunately, they have received a lot of support from their peers. "The campaign was about preppy grunge, print with an edge. [It was not] about promoting unhealthy body types [or] anything else," Moore added. Farmers posted the following statement on Facebook after deleting the I AM image: "Dear valued Farmers customers! We appreciate you taking the time to send us your comments and concerns on a recent post for I AM. Please know it is not taken lightly and we in no way mean to promote an image for women in NZ to follow that could be regarded as unhealthy. "We understand that no two bodies are the same and we always seek to show a range of body types throughout all our advertising. These images were supplied by the brand Andrea Moore as part of a wider campaign and were published by us. We will endeavour going forward to work closely with all our partners to ensure an appropriate image is portrayed. "Thank you once again for your valued feedback." Clyne Model Management have been approached for comment.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/one-shoulder-formal-dresses
0
Sep 5, 2016
Sep 5, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
Designer Andrea Moore defends models called 'gaunt and unwell'
A fashion designer has defended models who were labelled as "gaunt and unwell" on Facebook. Andrea Moore's I AM range is sold at Farmers, and an image from its current campaign was posted on that company's Facebook page on Friday. The picture features Chiara and Norina Gasteiger, who are twins represented by Clyne Model Management. Farmers customers did not react well to the now-deleted post. "They so look gaunt and unwell. I'm really disappointed," Newshub says Anna Webster commented. "You cannot look at these girls with their bones sticking out and believe that they are a good role model for a family store," Jo Austwick wrote. "I have enough trouble with body image arguments with my daughters without these images being depicted. They do not look healthy." Moore said the imagery had never been intended to cause offence, and that she felt for the Gasteiger twins, who have worked with the brand for three years. "The twins are actually healthy, fun models who are busy university students... We love working with them because of their sense of self-worth and uniqueness as twins," she said. "We have been in touch with the models and they were most upset by the whole thing. Fortunately, they have received a lot of support from their peers. "The campaign was about preppy grunge, print with an edge. [It was not] about promoting unhealthy body types [or] anything else," Moore added. Farmers posted the following statement on Facebook after deleting the I AM image: "Dear valued Farmers customers! We appreciate you taking the time to send us your comments and concerns on a recent post for I AM. Please know it is not taken lightly and we in no way mean to promote an image for women in NZ to follow that could be regarded as unhealthy. "We understand that no two bodies are the same and we always seek to show a range of body types throughout all our advertising. These images were supplied by the brand Andrea Moore as part of a wider campaign and were published by us. We will endeavour going forward to work closely with all our partners to ensure an appropriate image is portrayed. "Thank you once again for your valued feedback." Clyne Model Management have been approached for comment.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/one-shoulder-formal-dresses
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15
saw something i can't erase from my memory yet it's physically deleted from yours. now there is no proof of your infidelity besides my word. you make excuses and tell me to keep quiet not to start something over nothing. what is nothing to you is a lot of something to me. you care more about the feelings of another than you do about mine. you lie to others about our relationship you act as if you don't love me as if you will leave me but the second i say i will leave you you are crying, with more excuses. this is an all too familiar road for me and i refuse to go down it again. so many tears and excuses now i could drown in them. you still fight to keep toxic things in your life. you still fight to keep me content by your side. what your reasons are i will never understand. you never really loved me you don't know what love is. i will find a way to expose you both. the last laugh will be mine.
0
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
Caught Him Deleting Messages From His Phone
I stopped calling      stopped texting              unfriended you on Facebook (LOL-not even my account....I don't have one) today We've been friends for more than half my life      more than friends from time to time (FWB....BFF....NSA.....OMFG!)             and now it's like neither of us exists Because you had to lie      you had to hold out....lead me on           to cover your *** for doing something I repeatedly told you to do *** So painfully slowly I'm erasing you       deleting you            turning my mind off you (IMY  :-(  XO) TTFN
0
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
You can't be in my club anymore (second revision)
I'm tired of deleting my sadness. Beautiful prose is my pride, but pride can be broken just like a heart weary with the world, and soft spoken words can cut me like any other. I bleed. I need love and laughter and starlight and music in my life. We all need poetry and dancing in the kitchen and flowers. Yet... The power of my words isn't a sacrifice, and this language is not an altar to your smile. I haven't bared my soul in quite a while, and for you to tell me not to... Bite me. **** your needs and **** you. I'm tired. I'm weary. My normal flights of fancy and music and puns and laughter are taking a reprieve. Skip over it if need be. These words are mine to seek for shelter and this page is mine on which to bleed. Sometimes my playlist is full of spite and tonight cliches Are just what recovery looks like. I recycled rhymes, penned cliches, and god help me today I don't care. Here's the exhibit. My wrists on a canvas. Feel free to snicker. Feel free to stare.
0
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
Bite me.
Penny got married young, she idolised her new man   Penny turned 16, said, I do I do, priest wed them both   Penny was happy, never complained to anyone, too shy for that   She crashed a party once, and met a gal named Sally   They became friends   And she confided in her     Shared little secrets, lips sealed, shook their little pinkies, never to tell   Then hubby walked in with curious smile, said you going to stay awhile   I'm not coming back until sunlight, best thing Penny had heard all night   ‘Cause her new beau, wasn’t all that he seemed   But only Penny knows so go go go oh no go     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle-up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny started staying inside, never going past the front gate   Some friends called saying you ok you ok you ok girlfriend   Penny searched websites, looking for a way out, deleting history, nobody got suspicious   While trying to play the good wife, reality started to sink in   Then she thought     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     And I don't want anyone knowing about the abuse, just in case   I've covered up since day one, swollen face   A nightmare, ever since our honeymoon   Childhood dreams were locked in a cell, but kept them alive and still didn’t tell, even while being slammed unconscious   It's like my security blanket, it's the reason that I'm alive   Everyone has childhood dreams, but most will never survive   They don’t always come true, maybe one out of five, be wise   Believing Hollywood tabloids, that they are still very much together, all lies   So go about your ways, put up with the one, that doesn’t love you anymore and continually hurts us and says sorry, again   Always just after they have, again bruised us   Forgetting about the pain and coverups that were made   Thinking it was just a sleeping nightmare, oh no     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup   Go now, Go now     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup   Go now, Go now
0
Jan 14, 2020
Jan 14, 2020 at 1:58 AM UTC
Go Penny Go
Penny got married young, she idolised her new man   Penny turned 16, said, I do I do, priest wed them both   Penny was happy, never complained to anyone, too shy for that   She crashed a party once, and met a gal named Sally   They became friends   And she confided in her     Shared little secrets, lips sealed, shook their little pinkies, never to tell   Then hubby walked in with curious smile, said you going to stay awhile   I'm not coming back until sunlight, best thing Penny had heard all night   ‘Cause her new beau, wasn’t all that he seemed   But only Penny knows so go go go oh no go     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle-up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny started staying inside, never going past the front gate   Some friends called saying you ok you ok you ok girlfriend   Penny searched websites, looking for a way out, deleting history, nobody got suspicious   While trying to play the good wife, reality started to sink in   Then she thought     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup     And I don't want anyone knowing about the abuse, just in case   I've covered up since day one, swollen face   A nightmare, ever since our honeymoon   Childhood dreams were locked in a cell, but kept them alive and still didn’t tell, even while being slammed unconscious   It's like my security blanket, it's the reason that I'm alive   Everyone has childhood dreams, but most will never survive   They don’t always come true, maybe one out of five, be wise   Believing Hollywood tabloids, that they are still very much together, all lies   So go about your ways, put up with the one, that doesn’t love you anymore and continually hurts us and says sorry, again   Always just after they have, again bruised us   Forgetting about the pain and coverups that were made   Thinking it was just a sleeping nightmare, oh no     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup   Go now, Go now     Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Penny get away, far away, go, Penny go   Feel you hurting beneath, when we cuddle up   Fooling some, but mommy sees past that makeup   Go now, Go now
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54
building purist æsthetic proselytizing solar-powered heliolatry commemorating historic concert sensing dark forces fokken lekker antwoord pumping sensory overload featuring high-tech dee-jay admiring gelato micro-truck laxing laying lazing "doing something nasty" continuing quality content entering another cathedral journeying without borders "exactly one year since visiting vatican" appreciating full-time gigasphere awaiting pyongyang performance depicting unlikely crowdsurfer foreseeing exponential improvements furthering esoteric agenda sensing profound incompatibility data-mining people's infidelities anticipating futuristic caffeine perfecting invisible propaganda researching mind-control techniques polishing psycho-social weaponry sensing social embargo flourishing frantic fanfare admiring longitudinal monument parodying marketing slogans cycling through österreich eyeing dystopian disneyland streaming crosswords extended-play herding glass kittens deleting idiosyncratic fragment loremipsum-ing laconic loudmouth receiving ultramodern telegram eigo-ga wakarimasu ka? guzzling duck-fat fries encouraging panic selling (juxtaposing past incarnations) getting black-and-white privilege renewing boutique account relishing cinema poutine re-entering hibernation mode opening old windows continuing zoo motif absquatulating excessive excesses nullifying originality claims proliferating protean persona disappearing sidewalk alphabet shrugging opprobrious moments enjoying vertical alignment re-entering cyberpunk paradise approaching island sun soaring beyond monoliths trivializing extraneous argy-bargy decreasing character limits dumping generic accounts uglifying commit message escaping into idiosyncracy moonshining great lake exuding idiosyncratic propaganda living nineties' dreams making occidental cuisine envisioning idiocratic president expropriating your time ascending homely helix singing fat lady
0
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
201508-h2
building purist æsthetic proselytizing solar-powered heliolatry commemorating historic concert sensing dark forces fokken lekker antwoord pumping sensory overload featuring high-tech dee-jay admiring gelato micro-truck laxing laying lazing "doing something nasty" continuing quality content entering another cathedral journeying without borders "exactly one year since visiting vatican" appreciating full-time gigasphere awaiting pyongyang performance depicting unlikely crowdsurfer foreseeing exponential improvements furthering esoteric agenda sensing profound incompatibility data-mining people's infidelities anticipating futuristic caffeine perfecting invisible propaganda researching mind-control techniques polishing psycho-social weaponry sensing social embargo flourishing frantic fanfare admiring longitudinal monument parodying marketing slogans cycling through österreich eyeing dystopian disneyland streaming crosswords extended-play herding glass kittens deleting idiosyncratic fragment loremipsum-ing laconic loudmouth receiving ultramodern telegram eigo-ga wakarimasu ka? guzzling duck-fat fries encouraging panic selling (juxtaposing past incarnations) getting black-and-white privilege renewing boutique account relishing cinema poutine re-entering hibernation mode opening old windows continuing zoo motif absquatulating excessive excesses nullifying originality claims proliferating protean persona disappearing sidewalk alphabet shrugging opprobrious moments enjoying vertical alignment re-entering cyberpunk paradise approaching island sun soaring beyond monoliths trivializing extraneous argy-bargy decreasing character limits dumping generic accounts uglifying commit message escaping into idiosyncracy moonshining great lake exuding idiosyncratic propaganda living nineties' dreams making occidental cuisine envisioning idiocratic president expropriating your time ascending homely helix singing fat lady
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69
my sadness is asking to use the bathroom during class just so I can lock myself up in one of the stalls and break down completely without worrying about people watching me. my sadness is trying trying trying to write but my hands are shaking too much to do anything but bury my head in them. my sadness is typing up messages to friends about what a ****** day it's been, but deleting the whole thing just as I'm about to send it, because no one deserves to be burdened by my problems— this is my struggle and mine alone; and I need to be able to deal with it. my sadness is not being in control of my own thoughts; not knowing how make the screaming voices stop. my sadness is absorbing the pain from people around me and sometimes letting it get to me. -- my sadness isn't rainy days and a few "sad songs". my sadness isn't "she drank the whole bottle but your name still burns at the back of her throat". my sadness isn't me spending time in children's playgrounds, surrounded by people with thoughts darker than mine ever could be, and a taste for drugs and danger. my sadness isn't "she smokes now, but her mind is still as hazy as the day you left". my sadness isn't flowers in my hair or anything that can be encapsulated in a tumblr photo or quote. my sadness isn't beautiful, nor poetic. -- it's just sad.
0
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 8:44 AM UTC
"you built up a world of magic, because your real life is tragic"
lamenting out loud incoming funk lords remembering ambient illhueminati using wrong account applying lexical snobbery "using arcane diction during bamboo surplus" sinning and redeeming enjoying manufactured existence struggling but whatever transfigurating xenocryptic renderings scheming paroxystic shipwrecks dispensing xylophonic wainscotting revolving number plates disheartening star charts upgrading defenestrated system observing new alphabet amplifying celestial explosions trippifying schema migrations deregulating various economies befriending code snippets writing excess minutiae effulging caffeine consumption rebuilding grandiose protectorate uniting our caliphates collecting projected change kettling ostalgie hues collapsing second-world references traumatizing unrequited follow making baseball analogies surveiling little sheep awaiting various answers deleting defaced tweet exciting times ahead downloading panda consciousness capitulating rising stellation
0
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
201508-h1
every heart stops beating not every man's worth meeting I can see by the cheesy greeting this conversation's not worth completing we could be great, but it would be fleeting in the end, you'll end up cheating and it'll be this number you're handing me, that I'll be deleting
0
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 2:09 AM UTC
tired of repeating
Her kind of lonely wasn't the kind you just feel It was the kind of lonely she went searching to resolve It wasn't out of the ordinary to find her roaming around looking for traces of him in the dust on the china cabinet or in inanimate objects around the house it wouldn't be peculiar to hear the lull of his favorite love songs playing through the thin walls of her one room apartment. or to see her wipe away a tear as she opened the door and invited you inside It wasn't a rare sight to see her folding up the clothes he had left behind Or typing paragraphs upon paragraphs of things she wished she would've said Unfolding his clothes bunching them up throwing them in the corner I can still see her hiding that stuffed animal he won for her at the fair stuffing it in her closet burying it under a pile of clothes and her own broken promises entombing it deep enough to forget Similarly, I still see her hiding the guilt she had found I see her shoving it under her pillow burying it under stardust and her own nightmares keeping it close enough to remember It wouldn't be bizarre if you caught her refolding his clothes just 'one more time' Putting them back in their drawers Texting him deleting the text before it sent debating throwing out his old toothbrush I remember quite clearly a time when she drank twenty bottles of water all in succession just to feel full again I remember her holding her breath until she'd turn blue claiming she missed the way he took her breath away Her kind of lonely wasn't the kind you just feel it was the kind of lonely that drove her to insanity.
0
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 10:46 PM UTC
Sanity isn't Safe in the Hands of Lonely
Her kind of lonely wasn't the kind you just feel It was the kind of lonely she went searching to resolve It wasn't out of the ordinary to find her roaming around looking for traces of him in the dust on the china cabinet or in inanimate objects around the house it wouldn't be peculiar to hear the lull of his favorite love songs playing through the thin walls of her one room apartment. or to see her wipe away a tear as she opened the door and invited you inside It wasn't a rare sight to see her folding up the clothes he had left behind Or typing paragraphs upon paragraphs of things she wished she would've said Unfolding his clothes bunching them up throwing them in the corner I can still see her hiding that stuffed animal he won for her at the fair stuffing it in her closet burying it under a pile of clothes and her own broken promises entombing it deep enough to forget Similarly, I still see her hiding the guilt she had found I see her shoving it under her pillow burying it under stardust and her own nightmares keeping it close enough to remember It wouldn't be bizarre if you caught her refolding his clothes just 'one more time' Putting them back in their drawers Texting him deleting the text before it sent debating throwing out his old toothbrush I remember quite clearly a time when she drank twenty bottles of water all in succession just to feel full again I remember her holding her breath until she'd turn blue claiming she missed the way he took her breath away Her kind of lonely wasn't the kind you just feel it was the kind of lonely that drove her to insanity.
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35
Her long black curled hair Shoulder blades and collar bones Naked under a strategically placed towel Candles and stripper heels.   Seductive poses, he’s thinking about ******* her. Wanting her. He yearns for more. Wondering how this small frame feels. My heart sank, dread filled my body I expected to see fields and melting snow in that camera. Blinded while deleting all photo’s of you and I. I didn’t deserve this, now I’m left with insecurities, anger and grief. While you are just left with your lies and “erotica”
0
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 1:24 AM UTC
Lies and Erotica
forging sagacious epoch activating neural station escaping hokey-pokey jiggery-pokery transcribing ineffective fragments digesting bear news opposing usual exhaustion deferring oxter reference cascading style sheets containing double readings mumbling lorem ipsum locating moose jaw enforcing meticulous patterns deconstructing vertical centering manifesting additional destinies deleting !important statement craving sleep paralysis receiving cryptozoological vibrations lightning fast collapse distracting tunnel vision culling deadbeat sequentialists overanalyzing twitter analytics acquiring arbitrary relevance spinning ping-pong sign floccinaucinihilipilificating floccinaucinihilipilificated floccinaucinihilipilification interjecting ****** holophrase minifying conventional language securing downpour refuge admiring octopus chandelier resuming party music taking mental trip encountering ersatz telesthesia denigrating bygone grudges maintaining elevated composure ignoring neurotypical haters eliciting cryptic emotions foreshadowing triple crown? experimenting acrostic restriction noticing ubiquitous "threes" aggrandizing loyal legion favoring ursine narratives finding oblique resilience yielding orchestral undulations
0
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
201506-w1
. A friend of mine just questioned what inspires me to write They know I'm writing poems every morning, noon and night I answered with a chuckle saying, *“I don’t have a clue In fact right at this moment I’m not sure what I will do I looked outside my window it’s the same as yesterday Traffic lights and restaurants and people on their way I listened to some music but I’ve heard that song before And I don’t really like it it’s a tough one to endure I took a walk through nature past the flowers and the trees But allergies are killing me all I could do was sneeze I typed some words in sequence to see if they would rhyme And ended up deleting them a total waste of time”* Then I saw their smile I thought, now there’s a thing I like when people smile and the happiness they bring There’s joy in that expression like spring will soon arrive It lifts another’s spirits and makes them feel alive Thoughts of sunny mornings begin to float around Maple leaves and meadowlarks and dew drops on the ground That very special person who lives inside your heart And just how much you love them even when you are apart I started feeling better as my face now wore a grin And when I looked up at the screen I saw one once again For now I knew the answer and I told them oh so true *“It seems today my inspiration came from seeing you”*
0
Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 7:10 PM UTC
Inspirational poetry
you told me it was over i hear it loud and clear but deleting our messages broke my heart taking down our pictures on my wall hurt like hell and giving back your stuff was unimaginably painful until i had no trace left of you but the memories then i knew, it was over
0
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 8:52 PM UTC
realization
*"Our song came on the radio yesterday and for the first time, I didn't roll down my windows or turn it all the way up or sing along. I forced myself to turn it off." "I washed your sweatshirt after sleeping in it for so many nights so it wouldn't smell like you anymore and I boxed it up to put in the top of my closet, out of sight." "Remember when we went to the beach and kept snapping photos? I finally burned them yesterday. I watched as the flames burned out, just like we did." "Our anniversary passed, and I didn't feel empty like I did the month before. It only took me four months." "I'm deleting your contact out of my phone so I won't feel tempted to text you when I lie awake at night thinking about what we used to be. I guess I'll be doing you a favor, seeing as you don't care about the past us like I do." "I hope you're happy with her, because after all this time I'm finally happier without you."*
0
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
the texts I could never send
erasing you hasn't been simple i never will completely deleting pictures and messages sorting it all out so neatly you know i love the rain listening to it pour i wish you the very best but i won't be here anymore i know you're hurting too we're stuck feeling so blue i know you're hurting too it's what's best for me and you it's painful for us both don't let me keep coming back how can you still love me there's so much that we lack you loved when i sang i'm stuck now singing about you i hate that it's come to this it's true i know you're hurting too it's hard to go through i know you're hurting too it's what's best for me and you
0
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 9:11 PM UTC
hurting
I wish I could go back to a year ago When I thought I was at my lowest low When I thought everything had gone so wrong Bet I would be singing a different song I'd start by deleting that very first line Maybe then my life would be just fine I would never have learned how to twist that bowl Maybe then I wouldn't be filled with this gaping hole I wouldn't know that you could eat dope Maybe then I wouldn't be left without hope I would have said no and walked away Maybe then I wouldn't be sitting here a **** addict today
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
Maybe Then
got poetry to show to my friends but im thinking of deleting my twitter my thoughts aren't as cool as I wish they could be, so bookmark my HP page for the updates the summer is chillin and im going places my mom doesn't want me to go to just because a place brings back bad memories doesn't mean I shouldn't be there Im past all of the stupidness and accepted my foolishness, no need for the reminders my ego is drowning my link on my insta no need for tweeting my emotions my tumblr is boring but so are your hobbies im writing for some dollars for more pencils, im running out of them i got some money but thats for anything that comes coincidently coincidence no need for some pens because I cant erase mistakes with them nhom site under construction so give us a few weekends our weeks are productive we hustle until we get it **** what you're doing there isn't any way but the need way so excuse your missing bikes, we're 16 and we're foolin we order pizza and write down ideas no time for galleria we ride for adventure on two weels interacting for promo no need for hiding behind some screens my life is a run on but thats how it should be no time for breaks, sleep is an option lead is necessary rooftops capture sentences paintings illustrate our visions if you dont contact me then why should I I should be humble but my account has 4 zeros, my mom dont trust me with it so I dont know the pasword That child support is piling up, I dont really care got miles on miles on miles on miles on miles ridden on my bike but I haven't gone anywhere but the city Im aiming for the carpet so when we go back to school I'm bringing my summer Got numbers as options but there's no reason to hit them up, got a good one I'm grateful I'm riding fast my way don't slow me down, is this a comeup? I don't know I'm just going along Come up from suburbs, I want to live high until my view is the moutains Im from Dallas but that don't mean nothing, no city defining where I'm going because I was on the 26th floor when I was at my lowest and I wasn't even on coke these days my grind is so lowkey, im sleep deprived my paint never dries, my brushes are always getting washed but these projects aren't for the public I only have a few questions, is love really real? should I sleep more? i dont know but Monarch dr is gonna be in a book one day
0
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 4:43 PM UTC
sloppy run on randon
got poetry to show to my friends but im thinking of deleting my twitter my thoughts aren't as cool as I wish they could be, so bookmark my HP page for the updates the summer is chillin and im going places my mom doesn't want me to go to just because a place brings back bad memories doesn't mean I shouldn't be there Im past all of the stupidness and accepted my foolishness, no need for the reminders my ego is drowning my link on my insta no need for tweeting my emotions my tumblr is boring but so are your hobbies im writing for some dollars for more pencils, im running out of them i got some money but thats for anything that comes coincidently coincidence no need for some pens because I cant erase mistakes with them nhom site under construction so give us a few weekends our weeks are productive we hustle until we get it **** what you're doing there isn't any way but the need way so excuse your missing bikes, we're 16 and we're foolin we order pizza and write down ideas no time for galleria we ride for adventure on two weels interacting for promo no need for hiding behind some screens my life is a run on but thats how it should be no time for breaks, sleep is an option lead is necessary rooftops capture sentences paintings illustrate our visions if you dont contact me then why should I I should be humble but my account has 4 zeros, my mom dont trust me with it so I dont know the pasword That child support is piling up, I dont really care got miles on miles on miles on miles on miles ridden on my bike but I haven't gone anywhere but the city Im aiming for the carpet so when we go back to school I'm bringing my summer Got numbers as options but there's no reason to hit them up, got a good one I'm grateful I'm riding fast my way don't slow me down, is this a comeup? I don't know I'm just going along Come up from suburbs, I want to live high until my view is the moutains Im from Dallas but that don't mean nothing, no city defining where I'm going because I was on the 26th floor when I was at my lowest and I wasn't even on coke these days my grind is so lowkey, im sleep deprived my paint never dries, my brushes are always getting washed but these projects aren't for the public I only have a few questions, is love really real? should I sleep more? i dont know but Monarch dr is gonna be in a book one day
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Do ever feel like running away? Disappearing into the night changing your phone number deleting your facebook twitter, instagram, pintrest, tumblr leaving no trace of where your going Do you ever want to start a new life? moving to a new city and starting over where no one knows you Maybe one day I'll do just that....
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 7:19 PM UTC
Disappear
Writing of a poem Oh! How it can be likened To having a baby! With the copulation of fancy and thought, Comes the moment of conception It can happen any day Unanticipated or planned erstwhile On a star studded night Or a rain drenched morn It swims into you as a seed So tiny… so inconspicuous Once the pregnancy confirmed Comes irritation, nausea Lethargy and loss of appetite Your stomach rarely growls for food Clouds of words hang heavy and low, Refusing to break into showers They don’t gush or rush. Ideas dry up leaving the nib parched Lines crack n’ break Depression follows Discouraged, you feel fatigued But all the while you begin to realize That a new life Independent of you Has begun growing inside you Then all the care taken To foster the young life You read… You refer the lexicon You withdraw from other works Take rest, relax in solitude Slowly the foetus moves The first stirring of life! With fond fingers, as you pat your belly Your pen pats the paper The first line….. The first faint beating of the heart! Then words…. Like little harness bells tingling Fall in line, line after line! Drawing nourishment from you, The embryo grows limb by limb The miniscule of insight Grown after months of waiting Into a mature body of illumination! A stretch of your dreams! A suffusion of light! After the labor pains Of scribbling and scrawling, Writing and rewriting, Deleting, adding and editing, With time stretching and contracting, A baby, no, a poem is born. Whether cute or ugly No mother can dislike it She marvels at its birth Wraps it in her warmth She must have had in mind a name Or seeks to find a name; An apt name Thus a poem with a title is born! She wonders if her baby would lit a smile, On others lips too Or from them would flow, Words of endearment as from a trickle!
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Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC
Prenatal Pangs
Writing of a poem Oh! How it can be likened To having a baby! With the copulation of fancy and thought, Comes the moment of conception It can happen any day Unanticipated or planned erstwhile On a star studded night Or a rain drenched morn It swims into you as a seed So tiny… so inconspicuous Once the pregnancy confirmed Comes irritation, nausea Lethargy and loss of appetite Your stomach rarely growls for food Clouds of words hang heavy and low, Refusing to break into showers They don’t gush or rush. Ideas dry up leaving the nib parched Lines crack n’ break Depression follows Discouraged, you feel fatigued But all the while you begin to realize That a new life Independent of you Has begun growing inside you Then all the care taken To foster the young life You read… You refer the lexicon You withdraw from other works Take rest, relax in solitude Slowly the foetus moves The first stirring of life! With fond fingers, as you pat your belly Your pen pats the paper The first line….. The first faint beating of the heart! Then words…. Like little harness bells tingling Fall in line, line after line! Drawing nourishment from you, The embryo grows limb by limb The miniscule of insight Grown after months of waiting Into a mature body of illumination! A stretch of your dreams! A suffusion of light! After the labor pains Of scribbling and scrawling, Writing and rewriting, Deleting, adding and editing, With time stretching and contracting, A baby, no, a poem is born. Whether cute or ugly No mother can dislike it She marvels at its birth Wraps it in her warmth She must have had in mind a name Or seeks to find a name; An apt name Thus a poem with a title is born! She wonders if her baby would lit a smile, On others lips too Or from them would flow, Words of endearment as from a trickle!
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It’s traumatic not knowing what to type It’s that edgy feeling till your thoughts ripe Its difficult to sleep in peace I place a variety of words on a leash I sit with a cup of coffee With my laptop glaring at me My mind is weakened My soul is vacant My cursor is blinking impatiently And I am deleting each line repeatedly My hearts not burning with sorrow My heart is happy but hollow I don’t feel anything extreme I don’t feel generous or mean My mind is at peace My thoughts are at ease And until an artist can’t feel Their thoughts are concealed So I need to dig in deep And let this moderate feeling seep. -Zainab Attari
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 2:14 PM UTC
Dilemma
Heavy sleep. Alarm clock blaring. The bus I missed. The way you looked at me when I sat down. How you liked the shirt I was wearing. My awkward compliment on your outfit. Your number in my phone. Paying for the first date with you. For the third. The incredible *** Paying for the twentieth date. Months passing. Two Anniversaries and one ring. The apartment we bought. The bed we shared. The things we said. The moments we had together. Overwhelmed by my feelings for you. Wrestling in the kitchen. Quiet nights at home. Pet names. A sense of comfort. The time that went by. The stress from your job. My overtime at work. Not tonight dear, I have a headache. Arguing over directions. Nothing to worry about, just a rough patch. Silence at dinner. The big fight. The divorce papers. Your confession that you never loved me. The hole where my heart used to be. All the alcohol I drank. All the women I ****** Convincing myself that I’m past you. Time at the gym. Wave to the cute girl at the bar. Get a haircut. Start a diet. Smile at strangers. Buy a new car. Just fine, never better. See you with him at the grocery store. My silent indignation. His hand with yours. The tears on the way home. Grinding my teeth. I'm too good for you anyway. The beer I consumed. The tree I drove into. The meetings I went to. The way I hated myself. The way I hated you. The way I still loved you. The way I knew I always would. The way I hated realizing that. The depression. The ************ Still sleeping on the right side of the bed. The volunteer hours I completed. The charity worker I met. The mediocre *** The way she said she understood me. My guard coming down. Forgetting the way you looked. Deleting the messages I saved. Sighing. My second marriage. The kids she had with me. The years that melted together. Hearing you moved a while back from an old neighbor. Long walks by myself. Everyday seeming the same. Never feeling right. All the years I woke up cold, alone, still wishing you were next to me.
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Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 8:34 AM UTC
The Science of Love
Heavy sleep. Alarm clock blaring. The bus I missed. The way you looked at me when I sat down. How you liked the shirt I was wearing. My awkward compliment on your outfit. Your number in my phone. Paying for the first date with you. For the third. The incredible *** Paying for the twentieth date. Months passing. Two Anniversaries and one ring. The apartment we bought. The bed we shared. The things we said. The moments we had together. Overwhelmed by my feelings for you. Wrestling in the kitchen. Quiet nights at home. Pet names. A sense of comfort. The time that went by. The stress from your job. My overtime at work. Not tonight dear, I have a headache. Arguing over directions. Nothing to worry about, just a rough patch. Silence at dinner. The big fight. The divorce papers. Your confession that you never loved me. The hole where my heart used to be. All the alcohol I drank. All the women I ****** Convincing myself that I’m past you. Time at the gym. Wave to the cute girl at the bar. Get a haircut. Start a diet. Smile at strangers. Buy a new car. Just fine, never better. See you with him at the grocery store. My silent indignation. His hand with yours. The tears on the way home. Grinding my teeth. I'm too good for you anyway. The beer I consumed. The tree I drove into. The meetings I went to. The way I hated myself. The way I hated you. The way I still loved you. The way I knew I always would. The way I hated realizing that. The depression. The ************ Still sleeping on the right side of the bed. The volunteer hours I completed. The charity worker I met. The mediocre *** The way she said she understood me. My guard coming down. Forgetting the way you looked. Deleting the messages I saved. Sighing. My second marriage. The kids she had with me. The years that melted together. Hearing you moved a while back from an old neighbor. Long walks by myself. Everyday seeming the same. Never feeling right. All the years I woke up cold, alone, still wishing you were next to me.
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