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psyche Jan 2018
loyalties change; so did you

what you see with your eyes isn't the truth. how much more do i need to see the truth that you can't see with your eyes?

the stars look really close together but they're actually really far apart."we learn that in class".what u see with ur eyes isn't the truth.

"how far apart is the distance that i need to close between me and-"
"it's because you don't know that you want to close that distance, right?"

who sees the human face correctly?
the mirror, the photographer, or the painter?

friend : everybody is beautiful in their own way
me : not if you're ugly on the inside and the outside

don't make me regret the things i do for you

something has tarnished our friendship and it seems hopeless to brighten it

what's the difference between "im jealous of you"
and "im disappointed in me"
it seems to me that there's none

i like machines better,humans break too easily
-Leo Valdez

it's difficult to make someone proud when all that notice are your mistakes

i already know i'm defective, u don't have to trouble yourself pointing them out for me

it's cold out here, i'm shivering
please, get me out of 'here'

there is suffering too terrible to name. we just learn to live with the unimaginable(hamiltrash)

it says "curiosity killed the cat"
in this situation curiosity killed me

True love isn’t Romeo and Juliet who died together. It’s Grandma and Grandpa who grew old together.(not mine)
all of them are mine DON'T PLAGIARIZE PEEPS!!
blackbox Jun 2014
A tale of many cities confined within
Deep dark secrets stacked in.
Lies, the world presume as sins,
That’s how the story of ‘The Black Box’ begins.

Cramped amid the four gloomy walls,
‘The Black Box’ is what he calls.
Looking to unscramble pieces at the bottom,
He rolled up his sleeves to the problem.

Not knowing, this can put him in a ditch,
And ‘The Black Box’ can act like a *****.
He went on in the search for a prize,
Unaware of this forthcoming surprise.

He knew, many have tried to look inside,
To find a package of perfection in the hide
Disappointed to see the shattered glasses,
They closed the box to put it in a stack of more boxes.

Still, he preferred to move ahead,
In spite of knowing he will lose his head.
The minute he thought he was nearer to precision,
A way distant he was from the actual incision.

The time will come, when he will have his threshold,
Sooner or later, he will have to fold.
After all, no one can alter the history,
No matter what! ‘The Black Box’ will remain a mystery.
Carter Ginter Jun 2013
I am quite disappointed in myself
For the things I've done,
The relapses I've enacted,
In the past few weeks.
While the blade brings blood
She brings heart,
One bears visible scars
The latter hides them in shame,
While my scars will heal in time
The memories barely fade.
Just when things were getting better
One night ruined it all;
I couldn't control my desire,
My crave,
For the one who seems to never leave.
So with one conversation,
A few twists of words,
I unleashed a million demons.
Now I don't know whether to regret
Or to celebrate;
Can't tell if she spoke only in the moment
Or in truth from her heart.
So I guess I'll find out in the end
If all drugs lead to death.
MKF Oct 2016
I have loved you for many years,
Even before I knew your name.
Your heart has called to mine for eons,
Whispering sweet nothings in my ears.

I have searched for you for lifetimes,
And been disappointed at every turn.
For no one I've met in any life
Has ever been half as sublime.

Now I've lost myself in you,
My gypsy heart has found its home.
You're the north star I've been drawn to,
There's no one else I want to pursue.
A M Ryder Sep 2018
Coke on my gums makes the whiskey go down like water
And so I feel nothing

I'll destroy myself alone so nothing can hold me back
So no one says "Enough."
I won't blame you for not saying something
I won't blame you for not "saving me"
How I can't be happy that you're happy

My ancestors are all angels up way too high and probably disappointed in what and who've I become
But still I don't care, they're all dead
Those lucky *****

Daylight breaks and the dawn has come
So I guess I've been up all night

These words are the very breath of my demons
And I haven't heard from an angel in ages
Through the eyes of the beast in me
I've become friends with the abyss
And it has politely invited me in

So another for the writer
Another bottle all by myself
To soak my soul
And drench any dream or hope of a happy life
I might have had left
Working piece that needs feedback, I found this in an old journal and I really see a gem in it.
Carter Ginter Jan 2015
I miss you every day, as I pretend you never existed
It's the only way I feel ok, but my mind is twisted
I love you, I always will
I just hope feeling alright doesn't always rely on these pills.

I'm not ready to move on, my unconscious clearly shows me that
I'm afraid to go to sleep because I know you'll be there
and when I wake up, I just stare
blankly into the light of my clock, trying not to feel
disappointed in the fact that you'll never be here.

All night, I run from sleep to avoid those dreams I hate
but in the morning I scratch at the door of unconsciousness
begging it to let me back in,
because those dreams are my only escape.
Carter Ginter May 2013
My heart is damaged
Laying in a body that's been misused a few too many times;
Something even sleep can't recover.
Yet that sounds pretty good at the moment.
But the problem with that comes from the moment I slip out of consciousness,
For then I wish to never return.
And am disappointed to realize that in the morning, I have.
Renee Danielle Dec 2015
my roommate likes to play dress up.
sometimes, she will look just like me;
other times, she looks like fragmented bits
of my worst weeks thrown together
in old calendars I've tried to lose.

you tell me this is a cry for help,
but "help" is a foreign word
that will always sound funny
coming from my lips.
keeping myself together
is a language I never learned to speak.

a merry-go-round of feeling bad
about feeling bad
about feeling bad.
I can't remember the opposite of sick.
my stomach is hurting
and my head is spinning
from all of these circles.

I've been avoiding my reflection
because I'm afraid she'll be disappointed
to see what I've made out of her.
I don't want to keep running from people
who once loved me.
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day,
About a man that they both knew quite well.
The heated discussion continued for hours,
Both with arguments meant to compel.

A debate ensued between the two,
With each taking a different perspective.
The Heart believed the man to be true,
And the Mind thought he was deceptive.

Heart started the discussion with an obvious point,
"He is sweet and gentle like no man before."
Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment
but how does he act after she's walked out the door?"

Heart countered, already knowing the point being made.
"Sure, he may not be able to write or call;
He is busy with constant demands of his time.
What he feels in his heart matters most of all."

"I disagree," and Mind continued to say,
"Actions mean far more than words alone.
It is when words and actions are considered together
that a man's true feelings are shown."

"He has to compartmentalize to get through the day."
Heart continued to defend his intentions,
When they are together his feelings are real,
but her insecurities span many dimensions."

"It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing.
Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine,
He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength,
proof that his statements don't always align."

"You are cynical, suspicious and guarded."
Heart was clearly tired of this dispute,
"Those traits are clouding your judgement.
He is genuine and telling the truth."

"I think you are overlooking the obvious but
I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions
if he makes an effort to send a simple sign."

Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point
and have the bragging rights of superiority.
Mind sure that the man would disappoint her;
Heart confident in his genuine sincerity.

Both waited patiently for some type of gesture,
Something to demonstrate that he really does care.
Heart began to worry and whispered to herself,
"Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair."

Patience prevailed and an email arrived,
just as Heart had hoped and prayed.
Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong,
was relieved and no longer afraid.

Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him,
but it was both that won in the end.
Maybe they were more than temporary lovers
and could also be permanent friends.
She'll leave this place and never give me extra thought.
Then I'll imagine that I knew her, never possessed her, just knew her.
She isn't genuine, not the variant of her inside me.
Perhaps, that is more genuine than the original thing.
She's somewhere else in time, engraved on the days of a thousand others;
Somewhere in the lull between expression and remembrance,
She frightens me to no end.

Waving- she's waving to me.
And I am troubled, and I am disappointed.
Laine Viv Aug 2014
We should stop falling in love
with our dreams and ideas and thoughts
of the things we truly desire.

We get disappointed about the things we expect
but, goodness, we have no clue about what they really are.

We should stop changing ourselves
and turning into the characters
we've watched from romance films.

We crave the kind of love they have,
but, goodness, those are not real.

We should stop searching
for whoever's meant for us
if we'll only leave people with broken hearts.

We hope to find who's best for us
but, oh my goodness, we abandon hearts & souls for our next try.

We should stop living
in movie scenes that create
false hope inside our haunted minds.

We wish to exist in fairytale
but, oh my Dear, there are no fairy godmothers here.

Because, Dear,
There may be (or may not be) someone to save you.
There may be (or may not be) someone who always understands
There may be (or may not be) someone who'll be there
And there may be (or may not be) a happy ending.

Yes, there always may be, but there may not be, too.

*(And I'm sorry)
Empire May 30
I disappointed myself today
Not that it probably would have mattered
Because sometimes I'm just sad
And today is one of those days
So, I'm going to sit.
On my couch.
In sweats.
Eating chips.
Watching TV.
Writing poetry.
Until it stops hurting.
Or until I'm interrupted, whichever comes first.
Jamie Lee Jul 2015
I was going to be, so much more...
A little miss goody two shoes.
Someone called wholesome.
I would be the one to make them proud.
I was going to be, the light.

Instead, through life I became...
Jaded and so very bitter.
Tainted and well experienced.
I only ever made them disappointed.
It seems, I am the dark.

Once upon a time, so long ago...
I was a happy little girl.
That little girl did not survive childhood.
She was buried, deep inside.
She became lost and forgotten.

Replaced with ugliness, so long ago...*
I have ached for years.
Barriers crumble beneath the force.
My created strength, fails me.
I don't know who I am.
Copyright © 2015 Jamie Johnson
Dan Filcek Apr 2015
Between paternal fascism and maternal quiescence
I had my own peaces to negotiate.
I wanted to hear the big chords, the big drums, the big horns.
Rock in a frame marked "real."
singing truth to power,
That's what everyone was going to do,
and where I wanted to go.
I was disappointed that I wasn't allowed.
bitter power trips borne of disappointment
the thoughts of death and the desire
in ways so foul, it tattooed us all.
And even still I avoided
placing those artists on a pedestal,
At the theater — the velvet place
we get glow sticks with our programs.
date night for those burnished elders.
with our Pringles and our peppermints,
The night wasn't about kitsch for me.
There's a smallish riot going on
The production is low-key. The set is too dark,
After all the years of not going, it looks like I've made it.
you cannot say I didn't live
If you're lucky, and negotiate your peaces, it all comes around.
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. source -
ʳᵉˡᶦᵍᶦᵒⁿ ᵈᶦᵛᶦᵈᵉˢ

Is it in the name of their God
that they create war

Is it
the lack of humanity
we've lost

makes the earth shake
with their faith

I use to believe
in angels
and demons

I recognize them

- driving cars
- on TV
- buying groceries

I know
- pure hearts
-  good words
- happy places

careful now

I've spoken to Earth
she's afraid
of the billion pairs of feet
stomping their way
through her grounds
she's enraged
of the billion pairs of feet
tearing down her lungs

Sᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉˢ
ʰᶦᵈᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʰᶦˡᵈʳᵉⁿ
ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳᵉˢᶦᵈᵉⁿᵗ
ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒ ᴴᵉᵃᵛᵉⁿ
ⁿᵒ ᴴᵉˡˡ
ʷᵉ ᵐᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵘᶜᵏ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᶦˢ
ᵖᵉʳᵖᵉᵗᵘᵃˡ ᵒᵇˡᶦᵛᶦᵒⁿ
Left Foot Poet Mar 2017
"my soul to keep"

this prayer
elegant, simple complexity,
comes me haunting,
every evening,
this notion,
a faint ghosting,
repeatedly reappearing
and nightly leaving,
from between my crumpled, sweaty bedsheets,
departing with a demanding unsatisfied, incessant,
coated with a diabolical, unfeigned challenge  -

write of me,
relentlessly commanding,
right me

no notions,
come realized,
no poem body, resolved solutions,
are easy offered up

your inner voices,
fettered and deterred,
begging you,
this one,
defer, defer,
for better days,
for better poets,
who require
no assembly instructions
cannot improve upon it

my distress, sensed;
the lady of  the house,
over the shoulder peering,
sees the moody poem title that
has self-selected to core this poet's core,
for endless torture,
raining down ruinous lamentation

she, ever softly spoken

"good man,
your soul,
your poems -
both mine to take
mine to keep

this title,
this poetic obligation
fulfillingly, fittingly,
my responsibility

mine to write
mine to keep
mine to right
mine to mine
for its
bejeweled contemplations

render easily unto me
what I have Caesarean seized,
pried lovingly and forcibly
from thee within

though seemingly rightfully thine,
title has passed,
legally, tenderly,
into your lover's arms

banish poet thine troubled assembled,
ensemble senses,
this particular poem's journey
and the soul that bears it,
released and relieved,
for now,
mine to take,
mine to keep,
thy soul,
in mine to dwell,
mine to complete"

Nowe I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take
Carter Ginter Mar 2013
It's comic
To glance back
For just a moment
And see how we've all changed.

We are no longer one,
As we were for so many years.
I guess as each of us slipped a bit
It simultaneously ruined the whole.

They left when they could
He stayed, but is now succumbed in tension; the poor boy.
Others have come and gone.
But you and I, we remain.

Yet as we're only a few houses down,
We speak only on occasion.
Seeing each other even less than that.
Yet there are a few things we both have come to realize.

If us then, were to meet us now,
We'd be, all of us, disappointed in ourselves.
For what we've become,
And what we've allowed to happen, to ourselves and to each other.

When you're young you don't know hate.
Don't see race.
Or age.
And life is easy.

But when you're older
You realize that not everyone lives that way;
Not everyone can stay on a good path,
When surrounded by such great temptations.

She found drugs,
Many held grudges.
They forgot.
And we remain.
There really is no title that I can think of that is suitable for this piece. I was thinking how my neighbors and I all used to be so close. They were my best friends. But time has taught is hate, and resistance, and the power of the unjust. And as most of them have left, the remaining hold hate, and the ones who don't, we'll they've seen time, and life.
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