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"fantom" poems
In the night, those shadows come alive. So little do i know about this heavy doubt. Cold wind biting the heart. Trying to figure out where I've been. Dark winter pulls me closer, now theres a place i'm thinking into the air. A voice calling, "Who knows but that which seems omitted today, waits for tomorrow?" Nothing is as it seams, just as beauty leans from the earth in a sunset--a harp for the soul to sing. But You are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at her self But you are eternity and you are the mirror. And if you want to know truth retire of solving riddles. We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. Even while the earth sleeps we travel, back into dreams. Ay, my bow rests on my chest. There is the flame spirit among a starry mountainside. Oh it was but yesterday we met in a dream. You watched as I built a ship towards your shore. My spirit goes wandering upon the wind, off to the desert sands, deep beneath the ocean's sound. I am the gypsey and the fortuneteller, liken an honest thief. No I'm the myth builder and dream master. who laughs with me when I destroy, the sand castles of my innocence. The sun warming my back just as the wicked, and drawing my image locked in a shadow. Here the soul a battlefield, where reason and passion become one. they are the sails of my seafaring soul. There I found the naked body of my dreams, in silent sleep my spriit walked the path. I am the star-gazer who feels the power of endlessness, Aware of timelessness and neverending space. The love in me still present amidst the scattered fires that burn in black ink. Just as the caveman draws his fears on lost walls, speaking of misfortune and treasures gallore. A fantom ghost in Hade's Fate. Now my ship wanders forever on a pearlous course but never sinking.
0
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:47 AM UTC
Battlefield
In the night, those shadows come alive. So little do i know about this heavy doubt. Cold wind biting the heart. Trying to figure out where I've been. Dark winter pulls me closer, now theres a place i'm thinking into the air. A voice calling, "Who knows but that which seems omitted today, waits for tomorrow?" Nothing is as it seams, just as beauty leans from the earth in a sunset--a harp for the soul to sing. But You are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at her self But you are eternity and you are the mirror. And if you want to know truth retire of solving riddles. We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. Even while the earth sleeps we travel, back into dreams. Ay, my bow rests on my chest. There is the flame spirit among a starry mountainside. Oh it was but yesterday we met in a dream. You watched as I built a ship towards your shore. My spirit goes wandering upon the wind, off to the desert sands, deep beneath the ocean's sound. I am the gypsey and the fortuneteller, liken an honest thief. No I'm the myth builder and dream master. who laughs with me when I destroy, the sand castles of my innocence. The sun warming my back just as the wicked, and drawing my image locked in a shadow. Here the soul a battlefield, where reason and passion become one. they are the sails of my seafaring soul. There I found the naked body of my dreams, in silent sleep my spriit walked the path. I am the star-gazer who feels the power of endlessness, Aware of timelessness and neverending space. The love in me still present amidst the scattered fires that burn in black ink. Just as the caveman draws his fears on lost walls, speaking of misfortune and treasures gallore. A fantom ghost in Hade's Fate. Now my ship wanders forever on a pearlous course but never sinking.
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33
you're a vestigial appendage like my appendix you are there but you don't do anything for me you just are, there i wouldn't die without you you're not necessary, necessarily i can't live without you you're a part of me, partially you're so significantly insignificant and essentially unessential we are potentially going to have to end it we have potential — "no" — lets end it i'm so happy i never get to see you i'm so unhappy you called you're like a fantom vibrate i can't believe you actually called we're a vestigial appendage like an internal hemorrhage holding onto what's healthy and alive dig it out like a cancer bury it deep inside
0
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 3:36 AM UTC
Vestigial Appendage
Recognise me when my face can't fantom a smile. Recognise me when I pull my sleeves down. Recognise me when I hide behind baggy clothes. Recognise me when my mood changes too quickly to be normal. Recognise me when I'm drowning without water. Recognise me when I'm crying deeper, spiritual tears. Recognise me when I'm hurting, hurting even myself. Recognise me when I'm tired, almost everyday. Recognise me when I don't care anymore. Recognise me, recognise the help I need. Help me.
0
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 12:32 PM UTC
Recognise me
9:51am Sunday, May 5th, 2013 I wake up to the sound of rain. With my eyes closed I listen to it drum against my window, And I listen to his steady breaths. With my head on his chest I can feel his heart beat, And I feel his hand on my bare back. And in this moment, this perfect contentment, I know that I love him. And in this moment, this pure and quiet joy, I feel as though I'll never be alone. 8:05am Tuesday, October 8th, 2013 I wake up to the sound of rain. With my eyes still closed, I listen to it drum against my window. And I swear I can almost hear him breathing, Can almost feel his heart beat, And his fantom hand on my bare back. And I cling to the memory of this moment, Trying desperately to delay the pain. And I brace myself for the moment, When I will wake up alone.
0
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
Waking
and now we are here starring at each other from across a table a healthy divide between who I am and everything you thought I should be all the idealistic pictures you used to paint of the pronoun you exalted as the fantom: 'we' all the messes we made and the even messier nights are on the table too, I didn't forget one word. and I know you didn't either. and I might be sorry for talking **** and trashing the way you seemed to adopt every part of me I might be sorry for making you cry that night I pulled away because I was breaking and you couldn't see outside of your own skin long enough to realize what your use of the weight of your skull and who's shoulder you carelessly used to prop it up for no reason at all was doing to me what it did to me I know what I did to you, just because I did something for me I listened to you cry from the bunk bed below alone and tired in your forand now we are here starring at each other from across a table a healthy divide between who I am and everything you thought I should be all the idealistic pictures we used to paint of the plural pronoun you exalted as the fantom 'we' all the messes we made and the even messier nights are on the table too I didn't forget one word and I know you didn't either and I might be sorry for talking **** and trashing the way you seemed to adopt every part of me I might be sorry for making you cry that night I pulled away because I was breaking and you couldn't see outside your own skin long enough to realize what your use of the weight of your skull and who's shoulder you carelessly used to prop it up for no reason at all was doing to me, what it did to me I know what I did to you just because I did something for me I listened to you cry from the bunk bed below alone and tired of trying to understand my ever changing disposition And I too, was tired. I was tired of you trying to keep me warm I felt like **** but it ended up okay because you returned the favor two months later at my 18th birthday party only I had a shoulder to cry on and I should have seen it then but I didn't forgive you all those times I could have sworn I did on my knees in the sanctuary begging a higher power to take the anger from me I swore I never wanted to hate you but **** it maybe I did fingers crossed dressed all white at the funeral I always savored your spirals but I'm moving on from that and after three good god **** years of on and off behavioral tendencies reevaluations and disconnects and fear of all that you saw in me I'm not afraid anymore to say that there isn't any 'we' at least not in the way you said it would be and I don't want to pretend that I'm heartbroken over it though I used to loose sleep at night I don't want to pretend like there's still something here moving on finally feels right as we ******** over a couple cups of coffee I can see clearly that we are not the same and that we will never be but you just keep on talking about your job and about the road trip that we'll never take and how good it feels for everything to be 'okay' back in the old cycle of recycling the same five conversation topics trying to grasp at a singular old flame a spark of the easy days but all I can think about is how I've changed I'm not the same and the divide is clear but here we are anyway.
0
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 11:04 AM UTC
'We'
and now we are here starring at each other from across a table a healthy divide between who I am and everything you thought I should be all the idealistic pictures you used to paint of the pronoun you exalted as the fantom: 'we' all the messes we made and the even messier nights are on the table too, I didn't forget one word. and I know you didn't either. and I might be sorry for talking **** and trashing the way you seemed to adopt every part of me I might be sorry for making you cry that night I pulled away because I was breaking and you couldn't see outside of your own skin long enough to realize what your use of the weight of your skull and who's shoulder you carelessly used to prop it up for no reason at all was doing to me what it did to me I know what I did to you, just because I did something for me I listened to you cry from the bunk bed below alone and tired in your forand now we are here starring at each other from across a table a healthy divide between who I am and everything you thought I should be all the idealistic pictures we used to paint of the plural pronoun you exalted as the fantom 'we' all the messes we made and the even messier nights are on the table too I didn't forget one word and I know you didn't either and I might be sorry for talking **** and trashing the way you seemed to adopt every part of me I might be sorry for making you cry that night I pulled away because I was breaking and you couldn't see outside your own skin long enough to realize what your use of the weight of your skull and who's shoulder you carelessly used to prop it up for no reason at all was doing to me, what it did to me I know what I did to you just because I did something for me I listened to you cry from the bunk bed below alone and tired of trying to understand my ever changing disposition And I too, was tired. I was tired of you trying to keep me warm I felt like **** but it ended up okay because you returned the favor two months later at my 18th birthday party only I had a shoulder to cry on and I should have seen it then but I didn't forgive you all those times I could have sworn I did on my knees in the sanctuary begging a higher power to take the anger from me I swore I never wanted to hate you but **** it maybe I did fingers crossed dressed all white at the funeral I always savored your spirals but I'm moving on from that and after three good god **** years of on and off behavioral tendencies reevaluations and disconnects and fear of all that you saw in me I'm not afraid anymore to say that there isn't any 'we' at least not in the way you said it would be and I don't want to pretend that I'm heartbroken over it though I used to loose sleep at night I don't want to pretend like there's still something here moving on finally feels right as we ******** over a couple cups of coffee I can see clearly that we are not the same and that we will never be but you just keep on talking about your job and about the road trip that we'll never take and how good it feels for everything to be 'okay' back in the old cycle of recycling the same five conversation topics trying to grasp at a singular old flame a spark of the easy days but all I can think about is how I've changed I'm not the same and the divide is clear but here we are anyway.
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51
Ever listened to song, Or sound. Once liked. Now festered with new meaning. Tendrils snaking to your heart, A piece of the world you no longer wish feel. Yet it hurts to turn away. To turn away from the truth. Behind the song: A real piece of this world, You can no longer touch. A fantom limb, A cursed itch. Across your heart, A deep unhealed cut
0
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 1:14 AM UTC
Severed truth
As days moved forward our bodies became one the eyes led the ears the ears led the tongue the tongue traced the parts that were locked away from everyone, and uttered words that awoke the skin the skin brought a rush that moved mountains pleasure not easily forgotten and sent us straight into euphoria and no one , No one could fantom the thought that we were once strangers because we were perfect strangers
0
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 11:37 AM UTC
Strangers
In my reflection All I see Is a lost girl Trying to find her way A lost girl that is constantly being reminded Of everything bad in her life A girl that is hiding behind a fantom Nothing more than a girl That is alone And afraid My reflection is full of hate It hates me just as I hate it My reflection tries to look good My reflections tries to like me I try to like my reflection I wish my reflection would change And be pretty for once A broken mirror Shattered into pieces Glass everywere I am happy now I don't have to see my relfection My lost girl My ugly side My lost hope to be... Pretty
0
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 2:52 PM UTC
My Reflection