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Craig Ha Aug 26
I'm covered in scars
And all I crave is self-improvement
It's been December 31st for decades
And all I want is a new year

I wish that I could picture myself
Turning over a new leaf
But all I see in these visions
Is you walking away from me

How am I supposed to love you
When some days I struggle
To even like myself

Listen to the track:
soundcloud.com/67419/new-year
Cyan Aug 25
Technicolor windbreaker
Stuck on them like a sticker
A toddler got from the doctor
And put on the rearview mirror before
Mom could stop it,
Makes them feel
Like something
Green.

Something
Right-er
But not quite
Right-est
A few steps short
Of righteousness
Higher than anyone could
Hope to fly on a half-pipe
To Heaven.
Cyan Aug 9
Capture the magic moments
And make in retrospect
The things I wish were more special
Exactly that.

Maybe that’s delusion,
Making the past
Seem something kinder.

But if my illusory life
May make someone else
Feel real,
By all means
I’ll cover up,
Exaggerate the truth.
If your life will be easier
To have read mine in spoof.
Pat Dec 2018
She hides herself behind a mask
Building, her main task,
piece by piece. Lies piling up
She buries, she conceals, she performs, she perfects.
Her essence deep inside
a mere presence left behind
Eyes blind
Never can they know
Never can she show
How could she? Who would she be? Who even is she?
Is she even any more?
Broken fragments, shattered shadows
Always trying
yet failing.
Always failing
yet smiling.
A spiral of despair constantly consuming her,
yet smiling.
Sinking, drowning, failing
Always failing
Always wondering
Is she even any more?
Is she even good enough?
Piece by piece, walls fall apart
No longer burying nor concealing
nor performing nor perfecting.
Breathing at last, free from the past
for broken means fixed
No faking, no smiling
From now on she is.
Helena Aug 2018
slow honey-dipped
all consuming fire
four gyrating hips
room for no respire
I was mad at my dream
When I knew it was a liar
How could love not have been
with this burning desire

Lips tremble when you´re near
As if my body was prepared
for any sudden movement
but you are never here
and only in my words
do we make any improvement

and you don´t quench my thirst
but I guess I never asked
and I guess it would be wrong
I have barely seen you pass

But love, can I feel it in my skin
like a knife holding on
to the crimson blast
We must have been flaming lovers, love  
In a very distant past
KJ Reed Aug 14
If only loving you hadn't been so
suffocating,
I wouldn't have had to cut you from me,
my lungs,
my heart,
my mind,
to save what I had left of myself.
If only loving myself hadn't been so
painful,
I wouldn't have had to torture my body,
through pain,
and loneliness,
and with less,
to fit what I thought I should be.
If only I had learned sooner,
but I'm better now.
rook Dec 2017
i thought about it.
that’s what makes this the worst, i think;
i thought about it --
-- and then i did it anyway.

i know recovery isn’t a straight line.
i know recovery is ups and downs, your own
mountain range of
improvement.
sometimes you slide.

i know.
but is it still backsliding if you thought about it?
because i did.
and then i did it anyway.
Xandra Lynch Dec 2018
I
The snow is blank as
My apathetic manner
A seed thrusts out; new

II
Intense agony
Spreading and twisting in a
Worthless, weeping heart

III
The product amazes
Me; it's absolutely a
Lucid, pure nothing

IV
New Year's - a silent
Lullaby; empty promise
For the hopeful/less

V
Nothing ever came
From nothing; good trees do not
Sprout rotten, **** fruit
99% of New Year's resolutions fail by February. If you want to improve yourself, your mindset, humanity, or society, invest time into your goal. Suffer if you need to come to new heights. It sounds cliche, but it works; make a SMART goal (specific, measured, attainable, relevant, timed) and work for it. THERE ARE NO SHORTCUTS - don't try to make one; put a crap load of time into whatever you do. Go out into the world and fix it, child; it's at your disposal. I BELIEVE IN YOU!

~This has been my lackluster motivational New Year's speech
Andrew Nov 2017
Your rapid fire
Heart's desire
Is a high octane
Bullet train
Bouncing between destinations
At widely varying elevations
Stopping at mysterious stations
Where I experience deflation
In between these stops is a track
Where everything is black
And you attack
Until the merciful sun finally shines
You then say you'll always be mine

There are quick flashes of light
But also sick gasps of fright
And it's a big task of might
So the trick is to grasp right
When the speed of your movement
You claim to be an improvement
Creates fire extinguishing wind
So the flame you lit you rescind

Your ride was aridly adrenalized
Which is why I was penalized
In a poison prison incentivized
By your many mental lies
Eluding my sentinel kind
No love I find
Only tire marks
In entire dark
That lead to nowhere
While I scream no fair

You were an explosion of pleasure
Whose interest I tried to measure
Instead of being happy
I saw your train lapping
Familiar phantom spots
When emotions ran hot
Through my heart you shot
At a velocity I once thought
To be completely impossible
Proven wrong by bullet holes
And only lonely bullets know
What's inside my heart
They take those contents
To make me repent
Your speedy intent

That was fast
Smoking past
Things that last
Into broken glass
Until we were cut
By our rushing rut
I couldn't take anymore
So I sped to the door
Nylee Feb 24
I have to lift my thumb
type another word
Use my finger to erase
All my mistakes
A second well spent
A tool better grant
All becoming part of my rant
Simply said
but cannot be conveyed


An uninspiring living being
Nothing is happening
Only two pages of
Not any more in sequence
My identity missing
other time spent grieving
My dreams all lost
I am left alone

A dream of many gifts
What way it went
an unambitious woman
came back
Unwilling
to every thing
Moving the muscle
Even an inch

The same words
dance again
Creativity gone stale
every trial
So daunted by
Ever lack of effort
No improvement
what count to keep
losing the grip

An another day
Come and go by
twenties to thirties
queen of laziness
Unsteady not focused
pretty same letter
I am not getting any better
opportunities run away now
As I step towards the goal

So taken aback
Relenting to every decided fate
a piece of cake
Rock solid one at that
bundling and fumbling
No excuses to my thing
like a diamond never found
never cut or polished
laying just like carbon.
Andrew Nov 2017
The wandering hours
Create pondering towers
When instead of talking
You are always walking
Steadily ahead of me
Like you're dead to me
Like a small centipede
Walking for centuries
With the intent to be free
Yet constantly ambulatory
So we become slaves to your movement
When settling would be an improvement

You begin to freely flake
As I start to starve
You say let them eat cake
And my heart you carve
Into servings appropriate for your appetite
While I know something isn't right
But still forced to accept this plight
Of being your minor distraction
Chained by my love's infraction
Of settling on you
I shouldn't stay
But I bet I do

I wish I loved or hated you a little more
So I'd know what to do
As it stands I'm always looking out the door
But I'm unable to move
I want to stick around and see if you do something amazing
Like love me back
Instead of attack
With your acidic apathy
You mercilessly grapple me
And never decide to let go
Of love you never let show

We've been driving down this road for a while
And for the last million miserable miles
You've presented me unpredictable trials
With your nonchalant instinctual style
You've let yourself become extremely impaired
As I understandably grow more and more scared
I feel the answer is in the love we seldom share
But you're never lost when you're going nowhere
And I cannot follow your wandering stare
july hearne Jul 2018
pennies on the screen
diamonds in the ground

deep under and down ticking down

pennies on the screen
down ticking down
deep under
they found diamonds in the ground

light going out
where baby stars surround
the dim star devoured the young planet
death star's got to eat

a refill of fear
then off the rails again
second hand smoke
would be a great improvement
Shame Shame Shame
onlylovepoetry Aug 2018
[tongue taking taken prayer]

come worship in my temple.
your tongue gowned by silence,
thy teasing vibrations disperse my slack, exchanging
it for a rigidity that is even softer, looser,
an improvement possibility impossible incomprehensible

the noises of freedom from anonymity is thy silenced tongue
unleashed, teasing, speaking tongues unrelenting and unremitting  and unforgotten for they never were
learned or incapable of being self-taught

my pleasure sprouts mushrooms in my loamy foam,
thy rainfall nourishment, seed plant growing life morning borne,
thy tricked up sonnets played within my hearts harp,
tunes never known but come from the land of plenty,
my new promised land

teach me where the apostrophe goes, the comma and
why the question mark is curved and dotted like my body,
why we need punctuation to separate the first from the next

trees weep as if every dry rain petal is instantly imbibed,
wanting more for my swollen by thy ministrations,
I cry out
my ice storm, my thunder, embalm me within the
electric spreading in my veins shocking steady constant

thy name thy name I beg to give thee a name
to understand what has befallen me


you can call me by my favorite of
all my seventy two,^
your first baby squeals and
even now in human manufactured agreed upon symbols, (words),
every utterance a prayer heard and answered

my name is a heated and unbroken
hallelujah,
I am thy god, and you, darling you,
my beloved
^https://www.chabad.org/kabbalah/article_cdo/aid/1388270/jewish/72-Names-of-G-d.htm
Assley Dec 2018
You liked that I was different.
My strangeness captivated you.

You liked that I didn't fit in.
My loneliness fascinated you.

You liked that I was settled.
My sadness validated you.


You made me feel normal, my strangeness became nothing but formal.

You made me feel a part of it all, my loneliness went fast it had reached its curtain call.

You made me feel alive, always moving onto something better in life, with you my sadness was no longer a source of my strife.


You didn't like that I felt normal.
My formalness irritated you.

You didn't like that I felt a part of it all.
My friendliness agitated you.

You didn't like that I felt alive.
My happiness subjugated you.
I think the image for this one was really good I just poorly executed it :((( sad day what do you think?
will19008 Aug 1
Definitely a trouble spot
I don't usually mind sharing myself
     with others, but it is mostly in a
     superficial way

I can't say I've tried all that hard
     to improve my ability at it

I think most of my problem is
     lack of trust in most people
     I communicate with

Self-disclosure isn't easy, even
     with people I trust, but it's not
     quite as bad

Needless to say, there's a lot of room
    for improvement
Written in my EDE 352 Self/Group Processes notebook, Spring 1980; although it was 'needless to say,' I said it anyway...
Eva Aloezos Jun 10
I turned over the hour glass,

red sand cascading
like my blood which I poisoned for many years

Turning over a new leaf can be daunting,
yet nothing supersedes the joy which accompanies self improvement
Justin Oct 2017
There exists a place, or so I'm told
far beyond our dreams of gold
far removed from want or need
or evil souls sick with greed
A place we crafted with our minds,
left our wars and lives behind
and thought for once of how it'd be,
if instead of I there was only we.
The journey was long,
and the path we walked hard
as we spread our light ,
from star to star.
The journey is not over,
mankind is not grown,
there is room for improvement,
and much left unknown.
But for this you were conscripted,
and you haven't a choice
and in the swarm of exsistence
you haven't a voice,
So what must you do if you want to be heard,
Speak with your actions and temper your words.
Carry us further, set tempo and pace,
Run your leg dutifully; of the great human race.
empty seas Oct 2018
i’m trying to be better
a better leader
a better friend
a better student
a better person
and it’s hard
every step feels like dragging my feet through syrup
but i can feel improvement

i am starting to love myself
to love the way my mind
finds comfort in learning
to love the way
i’m good at things

i feel more free now
no longer someone’s crutch
but now i feel a solid future under my feet
instead of constantly being pushed down

i’m not quite happy yet
not as happy as i was
ignorant happiness is hard to beat
some days i crave intimacy
but i am not a dependent person
and i will wait until i’m better before pursuing someone else
it’s the right choice
being independent is something I’ve been priding myself on more recently
It just feels so nice to not be someone’s crutch for once, it’s like I can finally breathe, I’m really trying to use this to better myself though
A lot of people I know when they’re upset they just give up and never try to make things better and I’ve been desperately trying to avoid that
Anyway
Weird rant over
Claire Hanratty Oct 2017
I'm frequently told to
'Stop and smell the roses'-
I have hay fever.
If I were to stop, I would no longer be moving so
My mind has more time to fill itself up with the little thoughts,
The ones I'm walking the streets to forget.
Rose is one of my favourite scents but
Every time I try to take it in
My cheeks swell and my eyes water;
I'll just stick to being a walker.

I wasn't aware of this, but
The nose must play an important role
In the improvement of mental health because
I am also told to
'Wake up and smell the coffee'-
I don't want to wake up
And I can't get out of bed,
(Could you just bring me a coffee, instead?)
It might inspire me.

Within the cover of night I am sitting;
Lying;
Crying
-Doing anything other than sleeping-
In bed thinking about what if somebody told me to
'Wake up and smell the roses',
****
Myself?
Surely it's a death sentence
To do a combination of the two
That I have already explained
I cannot,
Will not
Do?

Today, however, I did attempt to smell those roses
And I bought myself a latte, too.
But all I could taste and smell was ash,
Which made me panic
Because it felt like I was burning alive and
I liked that.
Now I understand that cigarette smoke can sometimes be so potent, that it
Drowns the soul.

Tobacco is, in fact, a substance of which I feel I can relate to:
It's grown;
Briefly nurtured;
Removed;
Dried;
Packaged;
Labelled (with a warning);
Used by many and
Lastly,
Set alight by a temporary flame;
Used up in a puff of smoke.
I wrote this poem for my own benefit in all honesty, it's just something to help my mind unravel itself
Steve Page Dec 2018
Let me see beneath your perfection,
and look behind your Sunday best.
I want to see if you're super human
or if you're more like the rest of us.

I want to test your holier than thou,
your upfront semblance of flawless.
I want to check that you're all that we see
or if there's less beneath the surface.

If you think you have no cracks or dents,
if you have no room for improvement,
I'd really like you to meet my friends -
as we need a new source of amusement.
Nobody's perfect.
in this city there is intense
kindness,
friendly, charming,
but nothing behind the eyes.
the mask of sanity
slips

slips

something terrible
comes a calling,
there was a ringing in my blood,
maybe I should go a-killing,
you look lovely choking
on your tongue,

you are evil.
in this town,
you must do evil
but softy,
secretly
-caress your lover
than stab the *****,

pain is intellectual,
the superior modus operandi
to happiness,
only evil is worth the time.

an accident happened,
the neighbour is dead,
let's go outside

all at once

and watch
and watch

you are stuck in the machinery,
in this city,
we watch as your body
mutilates,
mutates

into god.

in the city
there is eternal happiness,
serene, perfect bliss

your children grow like guileless
psychopaths,
they drink in the
light of
your deformed god,

praise violence secretly,
praise despair
when mourning
happiness,
for too much of it
and you might
as well swing from ropes,

in the city though,
the tourist comes
to see eden at last,
here the dallying,
here the breathing,
synchronized in our
gentleness,
never knowing of
war, famine,
hunger,

we **** ourselves with smiles,

the joy
of successful sacrifice,

I cannot do it justice
this city,
this beauty
iridescent and benign,
the cup of elixir,
weeping mystics
bow in reverence,
pious housewives
turn to the saints
adorning the doors of our households,
and at night the
wife does not slam doors,
she opens them
and sits on her own accord,
and the husband does not drink
he eats the food of the lord,
and does not throw plates,
and the children are beautiful cherubs,
they sing of heaven,
and water the plants with their tears,

the table is ready,
let us feast upon the idiosyncrasy of our
ignorance,

in the city there
is but one flaw,
there is child who weeps for pain,
he is half starved,
illiterate,
mumbling,
***** matter covers him,
his gangly arms
ripping at the bread,
his eyes droop and
are shadowed by
idiocy,
he urinates upon himself,
and eats
at his hand
when dinner is not given,
he stares at walls,
and his skin is littered with lice,
absent mindedly he scratches
until blood is drawn
and licks it in thirst
- he was never taught
better,


but the happiness
of the city depends upon the child,
the suffering of one
for the betterment of
a million others,
the experts say
it is illogical
to sacrifice all
for the improvement of
one, who
has no chance of
regular function,

he is but a child,
but he is the child of the city,
and his pain feeds
our happiness,
his gentle cries
for his mother
rest upon our dinner
tables,
and make us salivate,

he is our child,
nameless yes,
but he is so wonderfully delicious,
his flesh
squelching under
the brute force
of crowbars --our salvation,

but in this city
there is no guilt,
we fatten our children
for strong futures,
we do not shake our
babies,

for we love to shake our boy
when he cries,
and hit him and

watch

as they beat him

such beauty
such beauty

tears spring to the eyes.


for we know the child
must be there,
the happiness that
radiates through the
city
depend upon his
jutting bones,
in his misery
lies the knowledge of our
scholars,
the cures to our diseases,
the terrible
justice of our boon,

but some
when they are brought
to the room
of the boy,
simply look,
and go sit under a brook
for a minute
then they get up and

and

walk away

from this city of stardust
and fairytales,
and eternal sunshine,
where they go,
no one knows the better,
maybe someplace far
far more lovely,
maybe someplace wretched,
it is possible they cease to exist
for they never come back...

this city,
this city

is beautiful

but if I told you about it
you wouldn't believe me, would you?
i used to think of lights and happy and comfort when i thought of you
but now you remind me of
storms in the soul
hollow eyes
empty hearts
you remind me of
cold lips on mine
your emotions far in the distance, while mine raced through me
you remind me of my energy falling to the floor
you remind me of wanting to cry but being too tired.
when you let me down, after building me up
when you let me fall in love, only to let go and watch me crash into the unforgiving ground.
which was almost an improvement, almost an IMPROVEMENT, from being in your uneasy hold, too weak, too fickle.
i thought i had finally found shoulders sturdy enough to cry on.
eyes brave enough to stay locked on mine when i broke down.
and now i am bracing myself for my final fall
for when it finally hits me that you do not care.
Seb Tha Guru Oct 2018
I wrote these poems on a summer night.
I was high off life.
Grinding making better music;
out here trying to spread the movement.
Want to show love, but you need improvement.
Don’t even know the real meaning, you need to hit up google.

People are really dropping out on both sides.
But I don’t worry, our team has mob ties.

My pen’s been working, I write your recent rhymes and all mines.
Speaking on me is something that they all tried.
I guess y’all just making moves on y’all own time.
Just know, this coming January there will be no replies.

A short poems for once.
No more story telling and 30 for 30’s.
But I have banners around room to retire all of your jerseys.
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