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English Jam Sep 2018
The beach smells of tranquillity and salty sea air
The rhythm of the waves gently caresses my skin
The horizon seems elusive, a dream always chased
Yet night foreshadows traumas waiting to be let in

Oh where do I begin?

I love you
I don't wanna be scared of you
I'm waiting in the shoreline
Please don't run away this time


I'm scared of silent reflections, solemn and reclusive
I float futher from myself with each passing day
I have a note addressed to myself taped to a mirror
I'm scared of reading it aloud and being lead astray

And I have to accept that it's okay

"I love you
I don't wanna be scared of you
I'm waiting in the shoreline
Please don't run away this time"


Seashells coated in sand tickle the edge of my ear
The fog carried on the wind sends chills deep inside
The sun will always be there to break the duskiness
Daunting across the sky and waking up the tide

And the breeze slowly sighed

Please don't run away,
       don't run away from me
Please don't run away,
         don't run away from help
Please don't run away,
             don't run away from the sea
Please don't run away,
                don't run away from yourself


Angel wings take me further than I've ever gone before
Elliot Jul 2018
It’s hell.
You’re living in hell.
Every day your hallucinations and delusions carry you futher and futher away from reality till one day you’re totally engulfed by them.
You watch yourself fall deeper and deeper and then you crash.
And it’s like you’ve never existed, nothing has ever existed.
You’ve become this empty vessel controlled by your demons.
Adeline Dean Jun 2015
"Bing Bing" goes my alarm.
It's 6am, time for my day to start. I let out a groan as I stretch my arms up into the air. I've gotten used to my early mornings. Realisitically, I could get up at 7:30 and still be there on time, but I appreciate the morning hours I have to myself, it's usually the only time I have to myself.

I pull myself up and sit at the end of the bed and run my right hand through my hair while I listen to the sound of semi- occasional cars and buses tour by. The buses probably contained early risers like myself, either trying to get to work or tourists making it back home, wherever their home was. We get a lot of tourists around this time, when the maximium heat goes on it's own vacation and replaced with fleecy clouds and the occasional dance of rain. This then leads me to believe that the tourists must come from colder countries if they opted out of the Summer weather we have to offer.

Then again, I can't exactly say I blame them, I've lived here most of my life and even I have the tendancy to go into a complete vampire-like state and pull over the curtains and stay in the shade and safety of my own home until the sun starts to set.

Cars are usually driven, at this hour anyway, by people that have lengthy jobs, the kind of jobs that if you call in sick more than three times a year your head was soon to be on the chopping block, heaven forbid you should ever have to ask to leave as your signficant other is in labour, you'd be shot there and then.

These people had the kind of jobs that involved working for an average pay, under a boss you'd rather kick between the legs with a pair of steel, cone- shapped studded shoes. The kind of job that meant sacrificing any sort of social life, or family, or relationship because you need the money to pay off the loan on that grotesque little apartment you have in an area where being robbed or being within a five mile radius of drugs or drug users themselves is all but very common.

I feel sorry for these people, I really do. Hence why I know I'm lucky with what I have.

Light ****** through the tall windows and the light breeze sends the satin curtain fluttering. I make the short journey from my bedroom to the bathroom with a light thud with each step, stepping on yesterday's clothes as I do. One day swore to myself that I'd end up being my own death sentence if I didn't start picking the clothes up of the floor. That I'd get my toes caught in the neck of a shirt and down I go, crack my head on the floor and who'd be there to call an ambulance? I literally bring the term 'a trainwreck waiting to happen' to an entire new meaning. I'm not sure if I should be proud, scared, or writing my own will, you know, just in case.

Flicking on the light in the bathroom seemed like a good idea at the time, again, the whole 'trainwreck' attribute didn't need to be made even more apparent by me slipping on something and killing myself. Could you imagine if, morbid, I know, I did in fact slip and die right here. The tax collector would come find me once he realised I hadn't paid my bills in three months, only to then call the police who then find me in a sorry state on the floor in my underwear with a cracked head and a big pool of blood radiating from it. Oh how very attractive.

They'd then call my family and friends and somehow come to the conclusion that I was an early bird and that I was getting ready to start my day when I had the imponderable misfortune of killing myself. Investigators would come in and look futher into the situation, see if there were any signs of 'foul play' or was it really just an 'accident' and then they'd (for whatever reason, I don't know, just go along with it) look up and see that the lights were never turned on. Then they'd take this minuscule but yet all so relevant piece of evidence and merge it with the fact that I was an early bird. Their conclusion would be something along the lines of this:

"It started off like any other Monday morning. This woman was going to the bathroom, perhaps to take a shower, when she slipped and fell, hitting her head off the marble floor which hence caused the fatal concussion on her head. Upon futher investigation we learned that the bathroom lights had, in fact, never been turned on so her vision was not prompted and this was the main factor in this death."

"Upon intensive investigative work, ( 'intensive investigative work' my hole, you were only here five minutes and you now think you're Sherlock ****** Holmes) we have concluded that this woman's death was nothing more than an accident of human error and that she was, in fact, a *****."

Imagine having that written in the paper about you? My mother would be so proud.

Anyway, just to clarify, I did turn on the bathroom lights, I'd be a bit upset if the story ended here, wouldn't you? You'd close the book, throw it on something around you within a relatively close proximity (at least that's what I'd hope) and let out an angry sigh along with the words, "well, what a waist of five minutes that was."

After the feeling of acid being slowly dripped into my eyes faded, I was able to see. The white marble floor stared back at me, I wonder if this is what it feels like to stare are a dead person, you know? With a white face staring at you and everything. Anyway, I remeber getting this marble put down and how much I hated it even before I bought it. You see, it wasn't my idea, it's was someone else's flirtation of an idea that soon turned into someone else's definitive decision and here we are today.

I can't say I hate it now, I mean having to see something every day for more than one occassion somewhat forces you to get used to something.

Shame is that the same thing can't be said for some of the people in my life.

I took of the clothes I wore to bed, which was nothing more than a old red shirt with an aging beer logo on it and my underwear.
When I come home I'm usually physically, emotionally and spiritually drained, clothing means little to nothing to me.

Finding the will to drag each limb into the shower took some effort, but I got there eventually. The rush of water from my head all the way to my toes feels heavnily, absolutely brilliant. This, this is probably one the best moments of my mornings when I'm alone. It's more than just a place to clean, shave and get out, oh no, it's much more than that for me. It's the cylindrical scope at which I conjugate my best plans and ideas, where fantasize about the idea of being famous and also where I think I can reach the same vocal cords as Christina Aguilera and still sound good, unfortunately, that last part is really all in my head.

I sing some song I've had stuck in my head for the past four days that I heard while I was at a bar with friends and reach for the shampoo. Only problem is, I can't find it. Well, that's not all true, I know its there, but I just don't know where the geographical location of 'there' is. There's bottles of everything under the sun on this shower rack alongside soaps, a lilac luffa glove and a blue hairbrush that isn't even mine. See, these are the trials you face when you share a living space with someone. Nothing belongs to you anymore, absolutely nothing.

I finally find the right shampoo and conditioner, clean myself with a bodywash that smells like vanilla and leave the shower. Wrapping a towel around myself I go to the sink to brush my teath, there's no point in putting my hair up in a towel, it's to short for that.
Once all the obstacles in the bathroom have been defeated it's time to get dressed.

Standing, and looking aimlessly into my closet for my underwear, I decide what todays attire is going to consist of. I flick back and forth through the rack like a woman in a store thats actually got time to spend looking through the same item of clothing just in fourty different shades of the same colour. I have to admit, my closet doesn't differ all that drastically, it's all just black, white, navy and the occasional pop of burgundy. I don't do colour, it's just not my thing.

Oh, by the way , I'm Prideux.

Je suis très heureux de faire votre connaissance.
I tripped and fell into temptation
The hole was exceptionally deep
The futher that I fell
the deeper I would sink
I built stairs
that were made up of all colors of lies
But the more that I made
the top was never nye
But the hole was much deeper
than all the stairways made to Heaven
I needed a friend to save me
one who converts sin into salvation
from bread that must be unleavened
Jodie-Elaine Oct 2016
"So. Why a robin?"
I picture us fighting, my neck hits the back of the leather arm chair. It hurts and you apologise. You are still pretending to get mad whenever I say I love you like you are not willing to hear it. You know I am going far away and whether its university or life we can't work without one of us making the other miserable. And I am still folding our hands to origami swans at 3am wishing for a second more with you. It goes futher than taking the scenic route home, dragging my feet and prolonging the front door, pretending we don't know how this ends.  We have the same conversations over and over, you apologising and joking as you think about what you'll turn into//me wondering if I'll even bother to make it that far. One day you might not remember my name, think my face isn't mine because didn't I used to blonde? We are not even perfect on paper. The government wouldn't grant us our bursary because they knew we are too self destructive. My poems for you were pretty when flipped to the ceiling but we think too much, wound ourselves up, and the folds in the pages won't come loose anymore. The words don't sit right. Somewhere on a fence in Carlton sits two robins. And life gets so hard when you realise you can't actually help another adult with their problems, you can only make them a cup of tea. Not coffee. Their brain spins in it's swivel office chair, controls broken. A dictatorship sinking fast. Their heart races - the more coffee you drink the more likely you are to experience anxiety//undiagnosed depression is hard to get rid of, it knows you want to acknowledge it and it waits for you to stumble upon it, it feigns surprises behind a pinewood door, but life doesn't get much better after you notice it. You still want to die and you still think every day about the one in three anorexia sufferers that don't make it. How really you don't know what "making it" is. I found a boy that I imagine smells like fire. He has these crazed pinpoint eyes that are not like yours and I don't know what to think anymore. He is an artistic genius and I want to run from my bad dreams into you and I don't know what to think anymore. I don't think anything is real anymore. I think we hit an iceberg. I think my fingers are caught in the ice, splayed hands grasping still like curved talon ends and I don't think I can get lose but it is cold. Think. Your warm hands on my ribcage holding me on an axis. Pedestal. You told me I don't love you last night and it felt like hot wax cooling in my throat. I can still taste it now. My hands are cold. I'm writing poetry about you again but I don't know if it's for you this time. Yes, there's a difference. I felt something gut wrenching today when I found that the great barrier reef had died. Is dying. It lived for 25 million years and the human race killed it. Like a toxic relationship composed of a bad survival climate and corporate waste, like us killing us. Big red buttons looming closer. I would compare us to the death of the great barrier reef- I don't think we were as beautiful, and we were killed by ourselves not climate change. So I am writing us an obituary before we self implode. I am writing the nights I have not spend crying on the kitchen floor an obituary before they are even over.  I don't think I can breathe underwater and the pressures are getting to your head. The colours are fading and the plants aren't breathing anymore. The backs of my eyelids are freezing over. You are the only one who knows about the two robins on a fence somewhere safe. You are the one I tell my nightmares to, the ones where I wake up and I can't breathe without you. The ones that I don't have anymore because now my fingers are inches away from the end of the rabbit hole. I can feel the breeze at my fingertips. We deserved more than a bunch of flowers cellotaped to a lamppost. More than a game of hangman. More than this is how I say happy anniversary. I wish we hadn't killed the great barrier reef. I wish that there had been better ways to say happy anniversary.
I am back guys! Sorry for inactivity. Wondering how many people/followers stuck around to read this. This is a prose poem that I'm still working on. Welcome to feedback.
Page unwritten  hand never to be
played.
Outcasts sitting at center stage.
When you never showed love.
It's no need to question why no one ever stayed.

And you never wondred and new better
to ask.
Cause people grew tired of the game.
And you of the mask.

Deep emotin with which like
overgrown children we play.
Gone in a second.
Was it love or just another day.

Torn sails endless flow.
Blocks and miles.citys and backroads.
Like any flock we scatter.
Only to lose track the futher we go.

Dellusion speaks well amoungnst friends.
You see it's the last farewell.
But with truth in are thoughts
everyone pretends.

Are you okay everyone does ask.
You give a expected reply.
And slip into oblivian slowley
fading behind your mask.
Just  One of thoose things ya write  off the top of your head.
I just go were ever  the story flows to.
Maybe thats a bit simple but not everything has to be complex.
Slowly taking notes
To develop my futher plan
Into my life
So I can come out of the floodgates
And expect to reinvent the basics
XxIcryInSaNiTyxX Apr 2012
I ran down the street,
in a mad dash.
He could not catch me,
I was running to fast.

He trailed behind at a steady pace.
It was raining heavily,
and water poured down my face.

The rain could not have stopped me even though I could hardly see.
I ran down the street into the woods.
I passed through bushes and trees,
I stepped on sticks and fallen autumn leaves.

The footsteps behind me had fallen silent.
My legs screamed with agony with every step I took.
My chest was so tight I could hardly breathe.
I finally stopped...

I turned around to see, him..
A dark figure walking towards me.
I tried to run,

But I was frozen with fear.
The man that will ****** me,
followed me here.
"Dad please don't do this!" I screamed.

I fled futher into the woods.
I squat down, and tried to hide in a bush.

He bellowed "Come on dear you cannot hide!"
I covered my mouth,
and I started to cry.

I felt hands on my shoulders,
he grabbed me from behind.
He put his face close to mine.

I could see the evil,
the evil in his eyes.
I smelt the ***** in his breath,

as he began to speak.
"You shamed me!"
"I'm sorry dad!" I shrieked.

"No it's to late you were just a mistake."so calmly he said.
As he pulled out a knife and held it in his hand.
I Began to beg for my life.

"Daddy please don't do this! I'm sorry okay?"
"No..." he said
"Now you must pay."

With one hand he squeezed my throat."
My eyes became wide,
as I started to choke.

His smile was crooked in a twisted grin
He began to speak and I cringed.

"You must die don't you see?"
"No dad I don't I don't!" I croaked.
"Please...dad...don't do this to me!"
"You lied to me dear.." he receited a rhyme.

"You lied to me shamed me and now you must die. Do not cry, see I am your father. I used to tuck you in at night. Into your warm little bed, tell you I love you and kiss your forehead. I didn't want to beat my little girl. Then your mother and brother left us. We were then all alone, it was just you and me at home. I saw your arms so bloodied and bruised. I never wanted to hurt you. Your mom and brother left us because I did it to them too. You lied to me and went to seek help. Now I send you to the angel of death. He will come to you and you will feel his ice-cold breath. Have no fears honey, he will take you far away from here. Well I'm done with this prolonged good-bye. I am sorry dear you just had to die."

He flung his knife at me,
and slit my throat.
I fell to the ground.
So silent I never made a sound.

He leaned over me,
no remorse in his face.
Spit on me and repeated,
"Just another mistake."
hlakaniphile Jan 2015
Sometimes I wonder if I'm ever going to be fine.
I look at happy people and go like is that real I just don't believe in it.
Dissapointments
Heartbreaks
Betrayal
Lies
Is all I ever got from people.
How do I move on ?
How do I go futher ?
I don't think I will.
I feel a thousand miles from happiness.

I sometimes wanna just open my heart love someone but I can't.
I once gave someone that information of how I felt about them I was left on the cold hard ground.
I'm just lost feeling like its never going to get better.
Tears day after day.
Fake smiles day after day.
Anger is all I carry day after day

There is just this big hole in my soul that seems to get bigger everyday.
And no mater how much I cry.
No mater how much I listen to sad music.
No mater how much I cut myself.
No mater how much I sleep.
It doesn't seem to get filled.

I laugh sometimes but during the laugh I start to cry because I know I'm laughing at my own life its one big joke.
Its a dance that walks a song that speaks.
How does one live a life she hates.
I look at my self in the miRror and say I'm goin be fine but I can see through my eyes I dnt evn mean it.
I just feel a thousand miles from happiness
#happiness #sadness #fakesmiles #broken #tears #hurt #pretending #hate #fear2love
Nathaniel Aug 2018
I remember under the willow tree that one night everything was alright
All stress and emotions was gone from my chest we were lost in the moonlight
That one moment I took to when I looked at you, that’s what inspired me to write
And your deep brown eyes looked whiter than snow and brighter than headlights

Call me hopeless fearing emotion when I was younger but now I’ve found another
Person that understands me, calls me names other than my mother
And when that cold air hit your face I was there to warm it a fire
Not quick to think but when I find someone great I don’t want to push them futher

Now I wonder of someone I don’t know as well as I should
Love sounds great but in this era it burns faster than wood
But the way the light hit your face next to that willow could
Remind me of pure contentment, only know else place in childhood

So in the spur of the moment I placed your lips on mine
I couldn’t see but I imagined everything around clearly and the stars aligned
My mouth felt compassion and my heart dropped to the baseline
I knew under the willow was where I wanted to spend a lifetime
abs Apr 2016
.
I used to think about you a lot
Because you were once my apple pie
The thing that kept me going for days.
I cared and loved you
Even if you didn't feel the same way.

Lately, I'm thinking
Which part of it was lost
Because when you came back
Everything left in awe.

I thought all I ever wanted
Was to get you by my side
And now, that you're here
I just want you to get lost.

What happened before left a wound
I guess time really heals everything.
After three long years of silence
All the words was said, and the feelings had left.

It was but a great story
And 'you and I' was just a theory
Somethig haunted me for so long
I could not even remember when.

I wish I could utter good bye
But was there even a 'hello' to start with?
All that's between us are trashed
It needs no futher elaboration.

Even now, I want to end this
Because you don't even deserve a space.
Maybe in our next life
There'll be a better tale told for us.
Lyra O Jul 2014
I am a crevice.
Everyone steps Close—
never in,
always on.
How can you?
It's Too Small.
Nothing in it will fit
But It.

I am a cliff.
People are Afraid,
of course.
To plunge to their demise
by Accident.
But would they skirt the edge
court the precipice of darkness
if they didn't want to know
Where it Ends?
When it Ends?
How it Ends?
If it Ends?

Of course, of course,
they never find out.
They never Move.
Nothing happens.
It tends to happen.

Then I become an abyss.
People are attracted
to the Mystery,
but they know it's Dangerous.
So they never fall in.

People can be wise,
holes can be empty,
and vice versa,
and what other adjectives
have you.

It's all the same.
Those who Almost fall
only futher Rip
the fissures apart.
Nothing is filled.
Nothing is healed.
EG Nov 2016
Im sorry that I cant comprehend your sorrow
and how mine seems like nothing to you
and its ok because I cant expect you to think of me
in a time like this,
but Ive shown you that I care,
Ive tired so hard to show you that Im there,
you went from calling me frequently
to now hardly taking time to speak to me,
I dont know what to think
if your futher because of your depression
and maybe this is the reason for your regression;
I tired to decipher thinking "He's just busy"
and "He's just down",
my mind is getting dizzy;
I tell you I miss you,
That I just wanna see and kiss you,
and you say your busy and have no time
although Ive given you so much of mine,
and then I see you make time for your friends
so I guess it just depends
on who you make important.
You confuse me with the attention on some days
and the rejection most days
I dont thinks it fair
and I cant tell you because Im so selfless
that I dont wanna seem selfish,
but its hurting me
because every man has made me feel last on there list
and I cant even tell you this;
So all I can do is keep a piece of my heart protected
keep it from getting affected,
because now Im really feeling Im just irrelevant to you
and although that might me true
Ill still be here for you
when you feel blue
but I have to take care of myself
because one has to value oneself;
Im beautiful and smart
with a tremendous heart
and maybe things will change
and you'll see the woman thats here
is real
but yet again maybe you wont
and its ok Im use to it
maybe Im not meant to be loved
to be hugged
to  be shown for once Im held high above
so Ill just kept loving myself
because one thing Ive learned is that no one with love me
like I love me
and Ill have to learn to never put someone above me....
#sorrow #love #loved #nothing #brokenheart #itshurts #hard #speak #care
REAL Dec 2013
Tell me the storys
they have told you
The songs they sung for you
all that touched you
all those who went right by you
tell me of the ones you rained on for
was it to make them sad?
or make them sing in the rain?
or for the passionate lovers to kiss?
tell me all those clouds you met
were they as nice as you
did they let you dance with them
did some  of them let you show what you can be?
tell me Mr.cloud
is the sky the limit?
or futher?

Tell Me Mr. cloud
did you find love?
with a girl
in a big  blue dress?
and blue eyes?
as you paddled on the river...

Oh all the happiness you can bring
Khrome Mar 2019
Ivy
the day you sprouted into my life,
I was intrigued by you immediately,
like a newly grew seed of ivy,
it invaded my lawn without fail.

but just like many lawns that needs mowing,
I tried to shake off your existence.
planting roses and daffodils, but to no avail,
ending up fertiziling the feelings i have for you.

your untamed and cheerful nature,
enthralls me even more towards you;
And as your vines crazily crawls unpredictedly,
I steadily stood my ground to stop it.

but still, I once again failed.
Like a kid who's slowly being binded,
binded by the love i feel,
a love like vines that I know would never bloom.

but as time goes by, and day by day has come,
I'm learning to live by the vines,
the binds started to become ropes,
ropes to move up to sunshine.

As the vines nurtures even futher,
and starts to burgeon lilac colored flowers,
I'm starting to understand the untamed and cheerful nature,
is for it to bear blooms that are delicate and precious.
dedicated to my delicate and precious ivy.
Faith Melton Oct 2011
Tired, exhausted
But we don't need sleep.
Silence keeps us awake
Minutes turn to hours
the hours to days
Time seems useless
Our goals becoming futher
We work harder
Tear ourselves apart
To finish what we started
Nothing ever seems to go right
We don't give up
Even in our worn out staggering
We continue in our labor
Only to please ourselves
Eman AQ Jul 2015
I want the rope to rip
Once I've actually tried to leap off the wooden chair, that is
And I hate myself for being so willing
To oblige to Jones' orders

It wont hurt, right?
Maybe only for the first few seconds
I can take several more seconds of pain
I bet it hurts less than Jones' punches

Mum..
Maybe even Sarah would miss me
She replied to my confession on her desk with a heart
And said she liked the daisies

But it's not like she'll see me on Monday
Because either way, I'd be dead
Jones said it himself yesterday
Just like the movies, he wanted "off with my head"

For some reason I'm still tempted
To free my neck from this rope
Even though I was always born
An extra to this world

Then how I wish
The legs of this chair would break
And once I was safe from the rope
I hope the floor-boards separate

Once I'm sunk in though
I don't want the floor to close-up
I just want a hiding spot
Where I could hide for months

Away from baby Johnny
That's ****** up my share of motherly love
From the minute his eyelids parted
In the background, I have been shoved

Futher away from the other Charlie in the mirror
Who seems to have a habit
Of going hands on hips when I see him
And telling me to run-off

Away from Jones
Far, far away please
I'll stay here for ever if I have to
Just make sure he doesn't find me

I shouldn't have done it
No, not **** myself
Why, oh, why did I
Answer back to the devil himself?

I still can't wrap my head around
Why I decided to speak up
It's not like Jones will shiver and whimper
Just the way I do when he destructs

Deep breaths Charlie
Four-eyed Max leaped off his chair last week
If that old nerd could do it
Then
Stop being a sook and do it already

*~Eman A.Q
Confused and abused  by this body of flesh. Trying to live for god but its not an easy test. Temporary pleasure of sin not what i need but has me amused. So there no one to blame when i am refused. Temptation of the world temptation of a girl is: a everyday thing and why my visions blurred. See i wanna be perfect in all things that i do but since i became a Christian i see how far from perfect iam when i compare myself to you. How did you do it how did you survie this life. Why cant i be like you why must i suffer this life. I am ******* myself but you say im worthy. Well let me see myself the way you see me come make this vision un blurry. I want to do what you want me to but my desires are blocking your way. Its easy to talk the talk but hella harder to walk the walk. I need you to talk for me and walk for me to. Kuz if i try to do it on my own it seems the futher i walk from you. Why i am here to me it seems unclear  you say you have a plan for my life and theres no need to fear.  So what is your plan for my life am i just supposed to exist. Am i going to struggle  with these sins everyday if so give me the strength to resist.  Show me your plan for my life lord god and this i insist. I don't want to miss my calling i dnt jus want to exist and i really dont want to be one of the ones who has been exempted from your list!i
2D World Nov 2016
The words I speak aren't the words I mean
Only making whats on the inside sound like a dream
The actions I pursue are nothing else but a blessing and a curse
I make it seem like its all fun and games until it ends up getting worse
I struggle to show people the real me
So I separate myself and I like an apostrophe
I take leaps without the cord attached but I plunge futher and further to my death
With the way I act and the life I lead I feel like I might breathe my last breath
Don't mind the ******* you see on a day to day basis who keeps who he is lurking in the shadows
But try to look beyond that wall to see the determined young man who wants nothing more but to help those who continue to suffer and carry all those logos
Why is it that no one can look past the act and for once take me seriously when I ask for the chance
Because some day I'll just wanna sing like David sang and dance like David danced
I hide who I am because no one can comprehend whether I'm being delusional or the person they see in the end
I act stupid, but only to see a smile on the face of someone who couldn't take it anymore, for someone who couldn't turn to any other friend
I don't regret my actions but I either pity and own them or believe that this is something I want to continue
But now I realize I must make some changes to my schedule and create a new agenda so I can leave my venue
Don't get me wrong I still wanna have fun with all the fun and games but right now I'm just tired of feeling ashamed
Because each time it drives me further and further to becoming a young man who's lost the meaning of his name
If it were so easy I would show the person living on the inside and the person I aspire to be
I pray to God that I don't lose who I am because that's the one thing I hold dear and closest to me
I'd rather let out the person hiding on the inside trying to make who he really is known, but thats only if I could
Because I can't stay quiet, I want people to know that I'm tired of being Misunderstood
#Misunderstood   #SuchIsLife     #INeedToTurnMyLifeAround   #FeelingTheAtmosphereForANewMe     #ItsAboutTimeIWas100
Another life broken
Adiction taking over
Hearts around you breaking
Nothing effects you
But another hit
In a haze that makes you forget
Your innocents is gone
What have you done
Where did you go
I lost you in the smoke
I cant go any futher
Im losing myself
Trying to reach you
Im getting ****** in
Trying to pull you out
thulvni Jan 2015
jdi
Being in jdi it was like I took the j and let it defuse in these eyes so I saw futher than sight where I saw the mudere in desgise I feel the blue in these skys
I ddnt have a clue who were these guyz but they became part of my worst nights

They use karma as they amour so nobody would understand what love , they all expose dust to the sun like its summer  

I remain green .. Under my darkes roots I remain green
#remain
#be
SøułSurvivør Oct 2014
##

just a little kid
on an inner tube
in a great big river
called life - currents
taking me futher and
further toward the sea
we all go to - one different
thing about me though is that
i truly trust the maker of the waves.

i
am
small

He is enormous

i can't ~ He can ~ i think i'll let Him



soulsurvivor
I'm a little i.
He's the great I AM.
Nicky B Nov 2017
there  are lots of other things going on
like
other arses sat on A bench
eating apple pie
or cherry pie with whipped cream
ground black coffee
handed with a well informed framed glove
and
the pickling of green tomatoes
smashed into the face of want to go futher
like a lot of it
the lot of it
Sitting on a ****** bench
paying for it oooowwwww
toooooooooo
malled into my brain the sadness
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2018
/            you know the one good "thing"
about prostitutes?
                ******* are careful not to "drop"
babies into your lap on the "shy"...
          i can walk into a brothel and
always find myself donning an all-body
latex fetish with a ******...
    and not expect: people think so little
of st. joseph, tha carpenter...
  and yet mantra the antics
  of pontius pilate....
                          washing his hands:
          can anyone see the judgement
of solomon within the confines of
               the pontius pilate "mea culpa"?


      so a "futher" is just
a gambling monopoly?
i'm hearing more
about an existential
       contraception
than actual ******* rubber...
or china's one
                       child policy...
twinning anti-asiatic
behaviour:
     the woman above the male
conceptual...
  which is a unit...
   and we're talking
about units: not eunuchs...
      hard to fathom
living under a floral pattern
of female genitals...
     and i'm supposed
to construct an impetus...
for what?
to further this?!
          can i opt out?
oh right... i can read kant:
and actually opt out...
like an aborted foetus:
                   with a choice;
perhaps one better:
               encapsulated by it.

god define the *****...
           at least she's the last,
  and the least concerned person
in making: replicas...

                  she's into the waiting game...
women with
     a st. petersburg apartments?
   no... not really...
tow man in front who has
forgotten playing
                  a ******* mongol...
yes?
              

brick on brick: hey presto!
                a staccato paradox in
                                     a dynamo (misnomer)
                   narrative.
staccato as the new polyphony...

dynamo / misnomer / dynamo / misnomer
  dynamo / misnomer / dynamo / misnomer
    dynamo / misnomer / dynamo / misnomer....

that unravelled cube of throwing dice!

later depicted in videos
exposing a stacking / falling over
narrative!

          ****...
  looking for          the noun
   is so much harder than conjuring
                                        "a" pronoun...

dice: unravelled!

                               cube!
                                           ⚀ + ⚁ = ⚂

        ÷ = divided by, or infused with?

ever come across two mathematical
prepositions so close together?

oh ****... eureka!

      it's not dynamo...

                         but?

                                        domino!

and not once have i conjured a thought
relating to italian pop. dough...
  honest to god...

couldn't quiet
digest my inkling
    into existential contraception,
which, from what i heard,
became much more than
   an ego, and a cognitive "rubber"
plumbing artifact...

i guess that's what you call
                                  dyslexia in reverse...

god...
  this observation is going to be
      so much fun! in the next 100 years.
not exactly castrated...
         just existentially... enforced to don
a metaphysical ******...

              and twice removed from
being a ******...
               but then again...
women would prefer ****** children...
given the state sponsorship of
women who have women later
in life...
        allowing them a carer income...

but the next 100 years of
pacifying the natural inclinations of
males to have a violence outlet being
              a mere confiscate of spectacle
without an impetus deviating from
the sport of boxing (among many other
examples)?

          can i forget "the" past, being
                                  taught: "a" history?
at some point the two will
converge...
                  and now?
                    just a waiting game...
                         even i'm trigger-itchy...
to confine myself to a serenity
of chaos...
                     when the weaker
dictate to the stronger within
                       the regards of a tomorrow?

the intellect backfires...
          of even the most reasonable people.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2017
consciousness sounds so much better in other languages... e.g. świadomość - which literally translates back into english as: awareness... or a step futher: an awareness... which does away from the concept of ego, given the existence of the opposite / direct article, invoking a god, or a collective, i.e. the awareness.

tree / man  looking at a tree
i'm an object
         looking at an
                                       object -
   my attetion though?
i'm a subjecting
      a tree to be
a subject
             rather than an object...
   the tree?
    its subject is photosynthesis,
on an unconscious levelling
to my own, sure,
     photosynthesis
  is the tree's objective...
    but the poly-intrinsic-dependency
any parasite will tell you,
    i need to scoff off this organism
to serve an existential purpose
of existence per se...

only in english, has the post-scriptum of
**** sapiens has been found:
the divided man, the **** schizoi...
sheerly through the laziness of
not establishing a bilingualism psyche:

the concept of an english gentleman ought
to understand,
    given that nietzsche stated that
a "polite" society disavows the practice
of dialectics...
    surely then a polite society can't be
mono-lingual...
            for multi-culturalism to "actually"
exist, you require the basic foundation
of bilingualism...
     rather than concerns for the genitals
in the argument of bi-sexuality...
if your idea of god is in your underwear,
then clearly he won't exist,
    besides oral ***,
               a Y in the tongue?
                                 a tongue as a Y?
the same reason bonsai tigers (cats)
have lizard eyes, and actual tigers have
humanoid  pupils, never the shrinked
slits...
        
            
tina "*******" tuner!* though...            
what's love got to do, got to do with it...
               got to do with it...
                          who needs a heart
when a heart can be broken...

   never abiding or succuming to the "logic"
of arithmetic, a necessity of the counting
method, well, given the calculator,
      
    me? just watching sparrow...
thinking about the size of their eggs,
   of all and every bird: lizards with wings...
jerky...
     twitchy even...
               rather than sullen crows walking
with the sort of labour effect of a carpenter...
  the sparrows? winged kangaroos...
  just hopping...
         and itchy upper-spines
  akin to the almost detachable heads
of insects... ******* a.d.h.d. in the making...
   it's raining and i'm wearing sunglasses
saying outloud: **** me! it's sunny!
Mona Apr 2020
With uncareful watch of the hours,
The night spreads like threads unlinked,
Drawing a comparison about what’s more frightening,
The stillness or the sudden shift.

Laying in a still motion picture,
A million frames of the same fear,
A tailored Bermuda triangle where
Life stops but the arms of every clock disappear.

And you’re left stranded,
With the anticipation of every wrong scenario,
So for today you’ll munch on anxiety for dinner,
‘Cause the face of every tomorrow scares you.

Oh how little you can do in those early AMs,
When both of your hands are cuffed to your insecurities,
And the night is there like a watch guard,
Standing between your panic prison and clarity.

And when desperation comes to join you,
It tells you tales of a monster that preys on time
“Never sleep.” It warns. “It’ll take you to those intimidating mornings,
It will leave you without a dime.”

When all of those night friendly emotions gather,
And drench your gut in their cold foreboding,
You, too, become a silent watcher, dissociated from your body,
Awake, asleep, floating.

Your mind says goodnight with finality,
Not willing to futher succumb to the night,
In the morning you’ll find you some superglue,
To hold together your broken promise to always take your side.
she drifts to a world of fantasy
the drifting Redwood falls below the surface
alone she sits in her lucid dream
her very soul permeates a reason for being
into a darkened forest with zombie creatures
husks of bitter matter on their being
long viscious fangs that drip blood off side
inside she hides away from its gloom
yet she takes a step into this vast domain
watches a nearby swan in the lake
the is in her a direct correlation between love and hate
some call this fate yet she still seeks for a reason for being

with a hand across her heart she makes a timeless dart onto a barren path
there she can breath in the silence of her own thoughts
next the wolves come across her scent then she runs away
looks back into a vast expanse of eyes piercing through the very fabric of her soul
she screams with intense fervor to futher the moment
then at last there was peace the sun dashes in on her frame
a cause to rejoice as she smiles with the reluctance of immeasurable bliss
Tint Jun 2020
I have dared call myself
The defeated superhero
In order to feel worthy
Of bottling my sorrows
Imagining me in capes
When I fought for tomorrow
And cry in it at nights
Expecting for a hero
To save me from my mind
And desire to futher borrow

This hatred as a gift
To sharpen as a bow
And drenched herself in blood
From self-inflicted scowl
Just to be disgusted
When the scars slowly glow
And it looked like little lines
Of a pitiful howl
That was falsely accused
To be artistically drawn

— The End —