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"guiltiest" poems
All your crime piles up with time But the clocks don't chime for a speaking mime There's nothing more that I can do A victim's story can never be true When the guiltiest confession in all the world Is never spoken, not a single word
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 7:22 AM UTC
"No Comment"
The longest drive of my life was only four and a half dragging minutes around two street corners Followed by the loudest sound of an unlocking door my oozing ears have ever witnessed And the guiltiest hug my arms will ever bear. His scent still lingering on my clothes and face and those same arms, I proceed to tell you my secrets (not the fun kind you whisper to your friends) the ones I could only stand to hide under my tongue for one whole day, and purely for the sake of your innocence. I reach into your chest and rip out what's rightfully mine and I can't apologize enough as I ring out every good memory I have ever given you and replace it with a night I can't even fully remember. Naturally, you curse and leave me alone in your room as if I've kicked you out of your own home, as if you never want to see my face again unless it is twisted and bruised, as if the only thing I have ever given you was a chip in your paper-thin skull. After draining my lips of "I'm sorry"s and "I love you"s you find the decency in your heart to take hold of my hand, walk me silently to the bathroom, and politely ask me to join you for a bubble bath.
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
You've always been good at forgiveness
Stop treating me like I'm the cut on your wrist your sweater just barely covers. I am so sick of being something your ashamed of. Your secret, your mistake. But you know as well as I do that the guiltiest of pleasures are the most rewarding. Maybe that's why you keep ending up back in my bed And maybe that's why I keep letting you.
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Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
Guilty pleasures
Laughter from Another Room by Michael R. Burch Laughter from another room mocks the anguish that I feel; as I sit alone and brood, only you and I are real. Only you and I are real. Only you and I exist. Only burns that blister heal. Only dreams denied persist. Only dreams denied persist. Only hope that lingers dies. Only love that lessens lives. Only lovers ever cry. Only lovers ever cry. Only sinners ever pray. Only saints are crucified. The crucified are always saints. The crucified are always saints. The maddest men control the world. The dumb man knows what he would say; the poet never finds the words. The poet never finds the words. The minstrel never hits the notes. The minister would love to curse. The warrior longs to spare his foe. The warrior longs to spare his foe. The scholar never learns the truth. The actors never see the show. The hangman longs to feel the noose. The hangman longs to feel the noose. The artist longs to feel the flame. The proudest men are not aloof; the guiltiest are not to blame. The guiltiest are not to blame. The merriest are prone to brood. If we go outside, it rains. If we stay inside, it floods. If we stay inside, it floods. If we dare to love, we fear. Blind men never see the sun; other men observe through tears. Other men observe through tears the passage of these days of doom; now I listen and I hear laughter from another room. Laughter from another room mocks the anguish that I feel. As I sit alone and brood, only you and I are real. Keywords/Tags: laughter, mockery, ridicule, another, room, anguish, brood, real, reality, dreams, persist, lovers, sinners, saints, madmen, poets, artists, minstrels, ministers, warriors, scholars, actors, proud, guilty, merry, blind, tears
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May 29, 2020
May 29, 2020 at 4:36 AM UTC
Laughter from Another Room
Laughter from Another Room by Michael R. Burch Laughter from another room mocks the anguish that I feel; as I sit alone and brood, only you and I are real. Only you and I are real. Only you and I exist. Only burns that blister heal. Only dreams denied persist. Only dreams denied persist. Only hope that lingers dies. Only love that lessens lives. Only lovers ever cry. Only lovers ever cry. Only sinners ever pray. Only saints are crucified. The crucified are always saints. The crucified are always saints. The maddest men control the world. The dumb man knows what he would say; the poet never finds the words. The poet never finds the words. The minstrel never hits the notes. The minister would love to curse. The warrior longs to spare his foe. The warrior longs to spare his foe. The scholar never learns the truth. The actors never see the show. The hangman longs to feel the noose. The hangman longs to feel the noose. The artist longs to feel the flame. The proudest men are not aloof; the guiltiest are not to blame. The guiltiest are not to blame. The merriest are prone to brood. If we go outside, it rains. If we stay inside, it floods. If we stay inside, it floods. If we dare to love, we fear. Blind men never see the sun; other men observe through tears. Other men observe through tears the passage of these days of doom; now I listen and I hear laughter from another room. Laughter from another room mocks the anguish that I feel. As I sit alone and brood, only you and I are real. Keywords/Tags: laughter, mockery, ridicule, another, room, anguish, brood, real, reality, dreams, persist, lovers, sinners, saints, madmen, poets, artists, minstrels, ministers, warriors, scholars, actors, proud, guilty, merry, blind, tears
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51
the bitterest, bitter guiltiest, guiltier trying to reach out the flag out from here most hidden, more hidden can't...
0
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019 at 6:52 PM UTC
anxiety and anxiety
sauntering down the hall rubbing the sleep from my eyes, it's mid morning, and I'm not really awake yet why am I not at school? something is weird I think to myself, as I hear my mom talk from the kitchen I know this isn't a regular day. I remember, the sun, shining through the blinds and her closest friend at the time I remember her talking, sobbing, but I can't hear her words. Something about an accident and him being gone, something about family, how they'll be here before too long. I still don't get what's really going on. Sitting on the swings, talking to the dog waiting for it all to end to blink, and wake up in my bed, groggy, running late like always. Then more than the family all started to arrive, people, lots of people, all with their hands full, flowers, and cards and boxes and bags, food, more food- offerings of condolences, from the guiltiest of hands like feeding the dead was a possibility? I don't remember any faces, just smeared complexions of those who took you away- nor any comments specific, I just remember feeling lost, confused, drowning in it! don't speak unless spoken to, out of sight out of mind you're just too young to understand, it's not your problem to worry about, your mother just can't talk right now just go sit down and be quiet! I'm sitting in a car now, with a friends family, and my dearest other half, driving right on by. I see the marks on the road, I see the pole hanging there, I see the carnage, and the subtlety of it all I try not to think about you, there, not even a full day ago here. I remember that phone call last night after the siren, false alarm! Your assurance that you were fine less than three hours before we'd have to say goodbye. I remember the words I'm sorry, sorry about your loss, sorry to hear he's gone, sorry sorry sorry, burned into my vocabulary, branding me, like it or not, nothing like irony to heat that iron white hot, Funny, how the sorry's never came from the right mouths and the greatest friend of all time had such the opposite for himself. All this I remember, some so vivid, it's too raw to recall. Yet I try so hard and comb through my mind, but like a sieve, some things fall through the sound of your voice, or just how you walked, I have trouble recalling the little things that would have made you you. I know that none of us will live forever but I never thought you'd be completely taken away I never thought I'd lose my memories too I thought I had those till my final day!
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Nov 21, 2010
Nov 21, 2010 at 8:58 PM UTC
June 11th
sauntering down the hall rubbing the sleep from my eyes, it's mid morning, and I'm not really awake yet why am I not at school? something is weird I think to myself, as I hear my mom talk from the kitchen I know this isn't a regular day. I remember, the sun, shining through the blinds and her closest friend at the time I remember her talking, sobbing, but I can't hear her words. Something about an accident and him being gone, something about family, how they'll be here before too long. I still don't get what's really going on. Sitting on the swings, talking to the dog waiting for it all to end to blink, and wake up in my bed, groggy, running late like always. Then more than the family all started to arrive, people, lots of people, all with their hands full, flowers, and cards and boxes and bags, food, more food- offerings of condolences, from the guiltiest of hands like feeding the dead was a possibility? I don't remember any faces, just smeared complexions of those who took you away- nor any comments specific, I just remember feeling lost, confused, drowning in it! don't speak unless spoken to, out of sight out of mind you're just too young to understand, it's not your problem to worry about, your mother just can't talk right now just go sit down and be quiet! I'm sitting in a car now, with a friends family, and my dearest other half, driving right on by. I see the marks on the road, I see the pole hanging there, I see the carnage, and the subtlety of it all I try not to think about you, there, not even a full day ago here. I remember that phone call last night after the siren, false alarm! Your assurance that you were fine less than three hours before we'd have to say goodbye. I remember the words I'm sorry, sorry about your loss, sorry to hear he's gone, sorry sorry sorry, burned into my vocabulary, branding me, like it or not, nothing like irony to heat that iron white hot, Funny, how the sorry's never came from the right mouths and the greatest friend of all time had such the opposite for himself. All this I remember, some so vivid, it's too raw to recall. Yet I try so hard and comb through my mind, but like a sieve, some things fall through the sound of your voice, or just how you walked, I have trouble recalling the little things that would have made you you. I know that none of us will live forever but I never thought you'd be completely taken away I never thought I'd lose my memories too I thought I had those till my final day!
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87
don't think for a second that ******* upside down doesn't count, because it ******* does. rough cheeks in mean hands, sneering lips that linger on a sickly smooth neck that's been trying to hang itself for an eternity. you are my guiltiest pleasure, i scream so loudly that i'm sure the entire west side is eating up the dirt from beneath my toenails. **** we both wear it well. beauty means less and less everyday, and i miss it from the bottom of my ******* to the neurons that **** around in my ****** up skull. i count freckles because it's the only thing i can do and you ask me to rip you open and i can't remember where i left off so i decide we'd better just **** when did i get off the bus? i'm sure this isn't my stop, but i've been sitting on my hands so long that i'm not entirely sure if they're there, or just numb. you make them move, to cut off the oxygen and blood flow so that you sigh deep and long with me beneath you. foolish of you to throw away your last remaining breath, so foolish that i smile wide. i am nothing if not evil, ripped from eve's flesh and bones. you tell me i can't have him because i'll ruin him, but the truth is, i'm already in ruins. millions of years ago, i was something to behold, but now people walk within me and feel a strange heaviness because they desperately want to see what they've missed. there is no rewind button on the remote, just fast forward and forward and forward and forward and forward. don't ******* look back.
0
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC
guiltiest pleasure
tingles start from the back of my head, when i think about her sweet kiss, all is good when i see red, now im flying in pure bliss. she lifts my feet off the ground, and fills me with paradise, its just me and her around, shes my guiltiest sacrifice. soon i feel like i will drown, and my body is fatigued, i can feel im about to come down, her soft touch has me so intrigued. she ****** my arm once again, im begging for her love, waits to know she hit a vein, so i can fly above. but now im up too high, my chests about to burst, please lord hear my cry, ive finally done my worst. ive been long forgotten, not a memory of me in sight, my body lays rotten, i didnt even put up a fight. that needle had me enslaved, nothing else ever mattered, she was all i craved, but she left me feeling shattered.
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Sep 5, 2024
Sep 5, 2024 at 1:49 AM UTC
Sweet Silver Kiss
The most suspicious people are the guiltiest themselves. The ones who hurt the most learn to trust again because they're been hurt. They believe in love because that's how they were hurt. The guilty ones are hopeless. They do not deserve love. They will ****** and scrape every last bit of happiness you have and take it for granted. They will blame you for their actions. They will hurt you because they secretly know the pain that they have caused. They put that pain on you. They are suspicious of you because they themselves are guilty. Never trust the suspicious ones. Never. I hope you can learn to trust. Because love is trust and the guilty don't love. Don't love the guilty ones.
0
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 11:41 AM UTC
Untitled
You’re a bitter sweet after taste Of what was, And never again will be I’m unsteady and staggering on the words you never said, You never said But I’ll drink to you. Because I want to feel Featherweight, You’re a fermenting chaos And I cannot digest you quick enough, I cannot digest you Why do I drink? You’re a craving Debauchery, My guiltiest pleasure What’s moderation when I’m with you? When I’m with you I want to drink with you. There will be no burden of time Ignorance, So incredibly blissful We’ll forget we live miles apart, We live miles apart So I drink
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
So I Drink
This dark and frigid road Is paved with broken dreams Always I bare the struggle Life never what it seems A wildflower Growing so lush My love is not tamed It's always in a rush The first winter snow Always so pure It blankets my surroundings Will love endure Believing love is enough Feeling it will always last Diving in heart first Then falling just as fast Barely catching my breath No longer feeling sane Broken and used I can't do this again I look for enemies The guiltiest goes by my name Tearing me down In a puddle of shame My soul so weakened This ache won't subside The heart always unstable Has it finally died Ugliness consumes me Showering dark to my days As I bring to life my own suffering As I wallow in my ways Standing all alone It is always my fate I search for answers Does love really hate Indignity follows It's become a second skin With nowhere to hide So much damage within God only knows This love I try so hard to attain Is always just out of my grasp I am left alone with my pain
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Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
Like A Wildflower
The guiltiest part of an artist's daily life is looking at their work; their creation, their emotional expression of the world they see around them with regret and fear that the real world around them will pillage the creative structures they have built around their heart, knocking down this creative wall keeping them safe from said Art Vikings. But, young creator, never fret, for your walls are strong, and willing to accept those willing to accept you, and with this newly found artistic army you can fight the Vikings off and glue that chip back to your shoulder.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
The Artists' Plague
before long i was melting away in-between his legs sleeping on his belly just dying away thinking how and why this circle extends i find just like the night everything about you disappears your smell takes me to yesterday or years away but not a single moment is enough its a life time to see you disappear . The way i feel for you tonight grows in the morning . as you kiss my head and send me to sleep reminding me too much of how you are my dreams taking me back to 6 months of our sleep i find that the next morning it all disappears i have been harsh i have been wrong my love i was not honest with you at all the words i said were  to send you away to keep your love away for its the guiltiest pleasure of them all the sweet sting of your love , comes with venom and to eat your sin And watch it slowly devour me , watch it become me.
0
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 1:46 AM UTC
How far can you get in
Short lived pleasure is the parent of pain And my guiltiest pleasure is your kiss. A kiss that softly touches my lips which Begin to make me quiver as I begin to take a deep breath And realize that this will soon ache. at that very moment I realize that I shouldn't Love you because I need you, I should need you because I love you.
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Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC
Need You to Love You
Laughter from Another Room by Michael R. Burch Laughter from another room mocks the anguish that I feel; as I sit alone and brood, only you and I are real. Only you and I are real. Only you and I exist. Only burns that blister heal. Only dreams denied persist. Only dreams denied persist. Only hope that lingers dies. Only love that lessens lives. Only lovers ever cry. Only lovers ever cry. Only sinners ever pray. Only saints are crucified. The crucified are always saints. The crucified are always saints. The maddest men control the world. The dumb man knows what he would say; the poet never finds the words. The poet never finds the words. The minstrel never finds the notes. The minister would love to curse. The warrior never knows his foe. The warrior never knows his foe. The scholar never learns the truth. The actors never see the show. The hangman longs to feel the noose. The hangman longs to feel the noose. The artist longs to feel the flame. The proudest men are not aloof; the guiltiest are not to blame. The guiltiest are not to blame. The merriest are prone to brood. If we go outside, it rains. If we stay inside, it floods. If we stay inside, it floods. If we dare to love, we fear. Blind men never see the sun; other men observe through tears. Other men observe through tears the passage of these days of doom; now I listen and I hear laughter from another room. Laughter from another room mocks the anguish that I feel. As I sit alone and brood, only you and I are real. Keywords/Tags: Laughter, another, room, anguish, reality, real, surreal, exist, dreams, hope, love, sinners, saints
0
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 4:39 AM UTC
Laughter from Another Room
Laughter from Another Room by Michael R. Burch Laughter from another room mocks the anguish that I feel; as I sit alone and brood, only you and I are real. Only you and I are real. Only you and I exist. Only burns that blister heal. Only dreams denied persist. Only dreams denied persist. Only hope that lingers dies. Only love that lessens lives. Only lovers ever cry. Only lovers ever cry. Only sinners ever pray. Only saints are crucified. The crucified are always saints. The crucified are always saints. The maddest men control the world. The dumb man knows what he would say; the poet never finds the words. The poet never finds the words. The minstrel never finds the notes. The minister would love to curse. The warrior never knows his foe. The warrior never knows his foe. The scholar never learns the truth. The actors never see the show. The hangman longs to feel the noose. The hangman longs to feel the noose. The artist longs to feel the flame. The proudest men are not aloof; the guiltiest are not to blame. The guiltiest are not to blame. The merriest are prone to brood. If we go outside, it rains. If we stay inside, it floods. If we stay inside, it floods. If we dare to love, we fear. Blind men never see the sun; other men observe through tears. Other men observe through tears the passage of these days of doom; now I listen and I hear laughter from another room. Laughter from another room mocks the anguish that I feel. As I sit alone and brood, only you and I are real. Keywords/Tags: Laughter, another, room, anguish, reality, real, surreal, exist, dreams, hope, love, sinners, saints
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51
Not writing tonight Leaves tomorrow deprived Of chemical changes In moments sublime Through valleys of shadow And mountains I climb Of ripples in rivers Wrinkles in time Heartbreaks in waves And passionate rhyme Of my guiltiest prints At the scene of a crime And the trail of bread crumbs That they all leave behind As clues to emotions I've yet to define Like the love I have made To a goddess divine Or the hate I have seen Where her sun doesn't shine Like my lone shooting star With the planets aligned In illusion defusions Of water to wine When I shed the skins That malign the benign With vivid prescriptions Of drugs I've combined Into altered egos Of complex design For a world I could save With my Spider-Man mind But the webs that I spin Become so intertwined With the fates and the furies To which we're confined To a Hundred Years' War Against all of mankind So a new piece a night Is a peace treaty signed
0
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 2:33 AM UTC
Reinforcements