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"empy" poems
I would never confess that I cry I would never confess that I want love I would never confess that I'm... Nothing I'm too scared of tears I'm too scared of people I'm too scared of being forgotten Feeling hot streams of salty water flow down my cheeks Feeling someone disappearing right infront of me Feeling empy, alone, scared I'm too scared of tears so I keep them in No matter what I would never let anyone see me cry I would never show myself being weak I'm too scared of letting someone into my life They would leave and I would be left with nothing I would never let myself give away a part of me I'm too scared of letting people see the real me So I fake... I fake happiness, smiles, laughter I would never let myself be me Aren't we all just liars?
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Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
Liars.
you are a big thing glowing with craters and you are the moon and I love like you and I run         on and on and on over the rolling tide and you are beneath me beside me, above and in me with lightning ropes, slow dragging the ocean to my shore and you are a small thing in the desert with heat made of a trillion smaller things and I am the water in every cactus and your waving cables leap off the sand and tug me to the shore and I am slowly leaking through the pores coming to you the endless stretch and there is only empy air between us
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 12:49 AM UTC
with craters
Just me and a fifth of *** which i bought at the grocery store with the very last of my paycheck which was the last of my paychecks three weeks ago. Just me and a fifth of *** sitting in this apartment with the blank white walls, cracked ceiling, and giant ****** furniture I hate with a passion. Just me and a fifth of *** In anticipation I unscrew the cap, but I can't bring myself to drink it so I slowly pour it down the drain, every last drop. Just me and a fifth of *** or at least the shell of what had been. Poor bottle, you look so lonely now. Come, sit next to me, and we can be empy together.
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Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 12:23 AM UTC
just me and a fifth of ***
empty walls empty room empy brain empty womb blank page blank mind, ideas, words, thoughts I can't find trash recycle bin I can't win those inner demons bust my teeth in slit a wrist open a sleeve cut a vein blow my brain insane insane in sane out of life nothing to gain nothing to lose cut me open, arachnophobia, rusty, my guts slip out in a shape of a noose, hanging out hanging up face down legs floating body rotating don't stop believing hold on to that feeling.
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 10:23 AM UTC
17;25 18/8 my room
I feel it rising In the silent room I feel it escaping my throat I don't want it to be revealed. I will stay calm. I feel it coming Up my neck and throat. It's becoming to strong for me It's clawing its way out. My mouth slowly opens And it rushes into the open, empy room. The scream is only heard By the disrupted silence It keeps coming and coming How do I make it stop.
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Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 5:17 PM UTC
Disrupted Silence.
My new best friend has perished Though I only met him last night His company was cherished That **** cat knocked him down And then drank the spilled bourbon Now I am bereft of my solace With only the empy bottle, and I maintain that if Coolidge were still president This would never have happened.
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Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 11:07 AM UTC
Grief Over a Dead Soldier
you play my heartstrings like a country star plays her guitar you sometimes pick up and play without even thinking about it it's just spo instinctual a habit you'r just so used to it it comes so naturally like breathing in your sleep or in my case thinking so much you can't breathe the songs you play come out a little bit at a time like you're writing them as you go they sometimes sound like diamonds falling on a glass floor broken and beautiful but the opening to a new door and sometimes they sound a little but different like they're just trying so hard to become music but that one string is too old, been played too long and with a metallic ringing it breaks and the sound of your insturment of choice settles quicklier than i would like into the silence. of the empy space.
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Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 2:22 PM UTC
Heartstrings(inspired by bits of a number of songs)
You tried to catch me In mid fall I contimplated stopping you You insisted to lend a hand My heart stolen by another So you slipped into the darkness You ran many miles, my dear Just so you could steal it back But once you found my heart In a box it was kept Beating slowly, hypnotically Dying, starvation grasping it tightly You rushed back to me, my dear Heavy breathes fell past your lips You prayed to God I would still be alive You found an empy shell of a woman instead My heart crumbled in your hands As you stared into my eyes That day I whispered no you you, my dear The words cascaded from my mouth *I cant love you, I am broken I cant be mended, though youre hopin' My body weak, soul chokin' Im sorry, my dear, I cant be loved* You took my heart, crumbled may be Compressed it tightly in your hands, you see It formed its shape, as it should be You breathed life back in it You saved me My dear
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May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
My Dear
Thanks to you I feel like I'm living a longer spring than what I thought was posible and now I've grown used to sighs that taste like roses and lavander, rainbows in every pond, and ambrosy-like kisses. I feel summer coming, but it's warmth doesn't trick me. The melting sun feels like the ****** to the symphony I didn't know how to write until we started making music. And right behind summer comes autum as the last breath of life. Landscapes worthy of the best museums, all nothing more than a facade to hide the smell of death. The circle closes with winter and everything that once bloomed in spring is nothing more than a memory covered in frost, in cold, in silence, in empy words, and painful goodbyes. But right now, we are in spring and I foolishly hope that this relationship is located somewhere in the equator line where we can stay forever in spring.
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May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 9:10 PM UTC
Spring right now
Broken hearts Quite a show ______ Suffering -- We stare into the mirrored soul vacancies That fill our lives __ Faces! Faces! &!!!! ..... there we are! -- In the darkest corner Crying ! ---- Empy dreamers Everyone -- (Except of ocourse The Little boy Over there)
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Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
Certainly
pink lights possibly work like the rose tinted spectacles. everything looks warm and safe, needing large curtains in sombre fabrics to hide us. is this the first step, two red bulbs from poundland, at two for a pound. fold the empy box flat, and made keep it for future ideas on rosiness. sbm.
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 1:41 AM UTC
#pinklights
People always say the eyes are windows to the sole but i gave my soul away so if look into my eyes and you see nothing you will be certian that i am empty
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
Empy
*** • & then ONE DAY! •• I told her I LOVE YOU •• & then ONE DAY •• And days upon empy days •• I told her I LOVE YOU •• & then ONE DAY •• & then ONE DAY a real DAY came •• & (?!) •• I looked into her "window" & (?) & she was there! •• On the first DAY we both knew
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 3:25 PM UTC
after the infantile love is gone
All I see when I look at the skies Is purple stars They feel so nice, When the bright side meets my eyes. All I feel is now outside I screamed it out last night when I was alone, Singing old songs trying to sound right All the feelings stop! You come to my mind And the songs that once gave life to my empy room Die. A piece of me is lost, I reward the one who finds it I don't even remember the last time it was with me Maybe when I was born Or when we first kissed.
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 1:54 PM UTC
Old Songs
X Y Z • • Broken The bottle that HELD now cuts and LETS LOOSE • She told a story once whole and complete •• Broken It don't hold up no more to scrutiny •• Dressed in rags Her aura ! Broken • Anyone alive may see •• No one sees •• Broken Empy hearts roll like bottles Up and down the dreamless streets •• Picking up the broken glass Terror written in once loving eyes
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
love poem
Ridged edges Popped off Cold one. Refuse of single Empty bottle Lingers inside Sitting ---- Awaiting ---- Degradation to set in. Degradation to set in. Awaiting ---- Sitting ---- Lingers inside Empy bottle Single Refuse of Cold one. Popped off Ridged edges.
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Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 10:29 AM UTC
6/24/2017---Bottle Cap #1