Does my life want to end itself
I know I'm not one to have these thoughts given a bubbly personality
But every day it seems my life drifts farther from reality
I cry
I scream
      to no one

Maybe if they find me leaking out the back of my skull
They will look back to find signs they know would tell
But there were no signs
I'm that good


Every waking moment tests my grip
As my eyes twitch my mind slips

I've lived a life of shattered smiles
Broken songs
Fucked up lies
But I put back the pieces so well every morning no one can tell
I'm that good
For all worried
I'll tell you don't worry
It's just poetic
Ozioma Ogbaji Apr 2015
In the morning, old becomes new
Birds sing as black slowly turns blue
In the morning, my fears are taken
My faith is stronger, I am not shaken

My fears are taken by morning's rebirth
Fresh as the dew clinging to my feet
In the morning, there is a new me to meet
Whom the blinding night has deemed fit to birth

In the morning, my flaws are still the same
Like the yellow sun, everyday like flame
In the morning, I remember yesterday's mistakes
And I know better what is at stake

In the morning, I let go of the night
I let go of the dark, I embrace the light
In the morning, my eyes are brighter
My dance is better, my laugh is lighter

My smile is warmer, my kiss is softer
My hug is tighter, my speech has no stutter
In the morning, I am all I want to be
Awake, refreshed, hopeful, free
Oh Savoir faire,
the emotions you share
with your heart and your mind
let me know we are truly two of a kind.
This woman you speak of, the love of your life
is a destination you seek when she is your wife.
A goal set in motion by your mother and me
from a memory you have, age two perhaps three
lights the path of your journey
so you're not traveling blind
oh Savoir fair we must be
two of a kind.
Love you Son keep on writing

-Patrick D. O'Connor SR.-
My father wrote this to me in response to stroke story
Am I wrong to want it different
Is it selfish
To divulge in things that I know will lead to heartache
To give myself the relief of a friend for a while, even though I know it will hurt them
I know I cannot excuse this behavior
But Is it not for my health
For my well being
No
It only causes pain, again and again
It is not necessary
It is selfish
I want to work on more scene based things for a while, descriptive writing, atmospheres, I'm really passionate about that type, and it links closely with my art, I like making people feel things, and just thinking about the opportunities exites me
Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
Pain brings out the best in people
And somewhere in between
In the middle of good and evil
Is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen
She radiates on golden airwaves
Among the valleys of time
And halfway down heaven's stairway
She blows your doubtful mind

There's dishonesty in honest men
Somewhere beyond the grave
And when they get lost in it
There's no woman they can save
If falling for you is wrong
Then I don't want to be right
Sing with me, uncertainty
And stay with me tonight
Ashish Gaur Jul 22
Everybody's searching for them,
Everybody's consumed by them,
Everybody's trapped in a circle to complete,
Everybody's here for a story to tell,

a story that's lost in time,
a story that makes us feel more alive,

a dream that makes us who we are,
a moment that changes us forever,
a feeling we're chasing for eternity,
a wish we're hiding in vanity,

So many we are,
So few we can be,

All these stories we're running after,
All these stories we're running away from,
All these stories we can be,
All these stories which were meant to be,
All these stories we're afraid of,
All these stories our hatred is made of,
All these stories we love,
All these stories we yearn,

So many stories to tell
So little, is Infinite itself

And at the end we'll know
we're not the stories we chose
Because one day every story ends
leaving us only with the good ones.
Kagami Jun 2017
The source of my sorrow
Has been resurrected
Along with the memories I had buried.
Everything before you was buried,
But the burn of whiskey
Has robbed every grave I created;
Truths brought back by the
Numbness of my lips and
Willingness of my neighbors ears.
Brooke White Jul 23
You don't know evil
until you receive the call.
The divide between your best friend's legs
Hands and knees, entangled in struggle
have been hunted by the decision of another human being.

She had done something of which her father
would have disapproved, so she chose to stay quiet.
Forgettably quiet, leaving only the catchy tune of breath
rolling over teeth to play in her head for
ninety-six hours.

You don't know evil
until you discover that this isn't a first offense.


You don't know evil
until you take a swig at ten in the morning
from the bottle of Burnett's your girlfriend kept next to her bed.
She had said she just wanted to impress you,
but you couldn't outdrink her.

And there was that time she gave you a bloody nose
while you were trying to keep her still.
She couldn't control herself, it was close to an overdose
I hadn't seen better performances on Broadway.

You don't know evil
until she leaves for rehabilitation & counseling
before she even leaves for her first year of college.


You don't know evil
until you've met a boy with uncertainty in his eyes.
A volunteer, a respected student, a friend
running like a demon towards home
At the expense of poorly raised kids with a rich vocabulary.

Evil is the rush hour traffic prior to his funeral
Bogged down by the thought of an ivory urn,
praying that there isn't an open casket.
When his grandmother, who you have never met,
hugs you and cries with you before the alter.

You don't know evil
until you realize you ignored his cries for help several months ago.
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