We laughed for hours intoxicated,
with tangled limbs,
on our bed we watched the world spin.
All at once the laughing stopped and my beautiful one,
seeing your jade pools, laced with red pierced my soul.
Your cheeks wet; my heart could not endure the sight,
and before I could ask you said you were thinking of your cat;
that it was dumb because she died so long ago.
I kissed your tears and held you close,
but how could I communicate to you
that your pain is my own?
You needn't apologize or discredit one emotion,
because every feeling you have I want to share.
Every vexation I want to ease your distress.
Every jubilance I want to share your elation.
Sooner than I could vocalize my desires,
you looked at me with a face that I still mourn,
pleading with me not to wound your precious heart,
as if I could ever even dream of it.
I held you tighter and vowed to you I never would.
Mon Couer in that sensitive moment,
you were so beautiful.
Your vulnerable proclamations sent me into a tizzy,
and drunk on the side of you I so rarely see.
I could and can now, only think:
  I love you.
  I love you.
  I love you.
Twilight Zone Jun 25
Elijah prayed to die
underneath a broom tree.

Moses said kill me now
to God because he couldn't
meet the people's demands.

Paul said it was better to die.
Jonah agreed with him.

Job said it would be better
to have never been born.
Jeremiah agreed with him.

Solomon said the day of death
was better than ones birth.

These men were upheld by
God's strength not to
Die in dire circumstances.

They all knew it was up to
God when and how they died but
that didn't stop their longing.

Wanting to die is not a sin
but to live for Christ is gain.
This is the comfort in the pain.
A click and then as if by magic
Out of state news, something tragic
A childhood friend has rolled his truck
A rebel I knew ran out of luck

What color and excitement he gave to my youth!
Corrupted me, to tell you the truth
As memories flood, here’s what they bring
Crazy as it was, wouldn’t change a damn thing

In Baron’s mind, did I still reside?
If so, well then, a part of me has died

If dice land right then old we grow
To bear the loss of those we know
The dark list grows, year to year
So rain love now, on those held dear!

May I press?  Waive to your face
A list that grows at quickening pace

Take heed friend - advice for you
Cause bet you have your own list too
How do I write in a poem that I am
        S C R E A M N G
How do I convey how  f r u s t r a t e d I am
How do I get you to know how
      o              u       i          g
c         n              s        n
        my mind is right now
How do I explain my writings of a crumbling sanity as poetic licence
      It becomes easy when nobody knows your how much of concealed life you really have
           My mother can't worry, She doesn't have such terrible thoughts

The bullets I try to use just ricochet around my skull blending my memories, rattling my thoughts.
My personality has died with my will to live
Rings of sleep met my hands, and promised
to wed my lashes, to close. The moon's pupils
acclimated to dusk's orbit, poisonous cycles with
durable antidotes. Starlight circulates death herself,
inaudible, a sobering shadow.
I've lasted by her words progressing,
as I'm no longer here. I faked debt with
her, to try and feel my 'normal' a belted, altered
maker of happiness. They aspired plastic sapphires,
chipping diamonds and bluebells for graves, they took
a dip at my faltered breath- and wanted more, a suicide
note bolted in as tattoos,

"The poetry is beautiful,"

"But I just haven't died yet,"
Lots of people love my poetry. And tons of people say they want my gift, but, I only have this because of all the bad stuff I've been through. You want something I'd give up in a heartbeat- trust me.
All feedback is welcome
Nachos May 24
It's been two months since I last heard from you.
I hate this new age of virtual communication.
We weren't dating but we were
Strangers who knew everything about the other.
I have your words typed and spoken.

Your history of abuse, and mine,
Made the strongest cocktail.
It was my mistake,
The reason it failed
I let you in to explore the real me, Masks aside when
You held me close and tore me open,
All flesh and blood
You left me with words unspoken
A mistake I'll never make again.

Your love and interest in me
has been replaced.
You knew me;
No one knew me like you did
You told me I could be loved;
You gave me a taste
I now believe the lies my brain tells me
I am unlovable, it's true, I fear
Despite the times you said I wasn't
Because if it weren't true,
you'd still be here

I lay here thinking about my life and what I've become
I have no one. I had you. 
I mean nothing to you.
Message received
I hear you, loud and clear
Loud and clear
I will be nothing but a bitter memory soon enough

My diagnosis and the disorders have taken a back seat
I've always wanted to fall in love; But when I did, I didn't realize Sometimes love is a one way street
You've left and now I see no meaning
If there was a God, I suppose he'd know this feeling

Does anything matter?
When we were, everything was depressing but you made it seem better.
Now we aren't, and the depression seems like its dirty old menacing self.
My identity is mine,
Yours is yours
Yet I feel like some part of me has died and has now begun to rot.

Soon the rotten smell will go away.
The memories will fade;
Bones will turn to mud.
When we cease to exist,
It will be as it was;
As if it never were.
Just as you incessantly insist.

If I could muster the courage to ask you for a second chance, I would.
But I used what was left of it;
Bleeding in the tub, where I lay
Eyes open, speakers moaning
- Unlovable by The Smiths
Afia Jun 23
Like ashes
they soar into the air.
My hair, long, like a hazel waterfall
carving the soul’s soil for a placid path.
Every wave folds a story,
every strand imparts in riddles.
Years gone by.
No phoenix’s tear can bring to life;
what died in me a million times.
Embrace your body. For it always stays with us through thick and thin. Hence, knows us far better.
I'm unassured with the words I think,
slipping, skipping days, I sink.
I lost my mind in my head's black,
and died in the depth trying to get it back.
Can you sense unspoken pain?
Rung through abrasions smeared with paint.
This art I make isn't made;
it's frigid in my heart for days.
Maybe I'm a resented presence;
pressed upon malnourished intentions.
I can't find the point anymore;
I can't brim the dark anymore,
and if I submerge below my purpose,
what am I even fighting for?
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
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