"loners" poems
First there is the prep.
The roommate.
Wearing salmon colored pants.
He has Shaggy from Scooby Doo
On his left thigh.
The alcoholic.
She has a drinking problem.
She is in denial of her drinking problem.
She hangs out with the loners.
The loners.
Unkempt, unattractive and fat in all the wrong places.
The blond looks like Tom Petty.
The one with dark hair, glasses and braces
They live next door.
Living together but segregated.
Wild cards.
All of us.
©Gambit '13
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 9:10 AM UTC
Benedict Arnold
We see them. Lying in the terrorist trap known as
The Uncomformers. What happened to them?
Did they say enough is enough? Stab their
Old buddies in their already turned backs? Well,
I guess some people just don’t understand….
Look at them!
They’re laughing!
How preposterous! They’re supposed to be lamenting or even just
Giving hushed whispers to someone about everyone else.
I can’t fathom—
How absurd!
The Good Girls
Ohhhhhh My Gosh! Can you like,
See how lame they are?
They just, like, don’t do anything.
I mean, I have never seen any of them at, like, any party!
Crazy! I know. They just keep to themselves,
I guess. But, I mean, come on? No parties!
Do they even know what fun is!?
Last night there was this really awesome one where,
I was dancing…..and drinking….and then I threw up in my boyfriend’s car!
Oh yeah,
Were exes now.
Anyway, I just, like, IDK.
I mean, who wouldn’t want to have the ultimate makeup and beauty?
It’s mind-blowing!
I swear their worlds are all, aerobics and songbirds.
But, whatever, you know?
Peacemaker
Talk about irritating. I hate people
Who stop fights before the crescendo finishes!
Bor-ring! Drama is what I live for.
Just let people ruin their lives already!
I’m dying for some action over here.
Hel-lo! Your “sensible justice” is causing me to have serious
Gossip underload. Stop getting in the
Way of everything! If you would just come in
One second after you usually do, there would be so
Much more to say.
It would be beyond belief if you just,
Go where you belong and stop
Interrupting before some of the most spectacular
Moments in people’s lives.
Iron King
This person is not so simple.
Loners that shield themselves from the world
Freaks that don’t want to experience reality
Maybe he’s evil
Attempting to hide a dark inheritance
Living in his mind, the Devil’s oasis
Visions of wonder and agony expressed throughout
Sending out blind waves of hatred to all who will not follow him into Hell.
Super creep.
I hope he leaves me alone.
I haven’t done anything to him…
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
Isolationist theories
of my brutal development
A mask
In the world of passengers
Regretting every slight disruption
Making icy chatters of teeth
As we wonder
How will these small altercations
Affect the grand course
of my surreptitious collapse?
Just a violent object on an axis
A washer head
thrown into a tumultuous ocean of visions
A flickering correspondent
Lying on an abolition
The worst things happening to the best people
It spins and breaths and *****
This molested scared demon
Anally penetrating all that I believe is genuine
Reels of my childhood development
Played on repeat to search for ammunition
The tunneling rib cages of my insanity
The forest nymph of all that is good
The one who created me
Locked away in a windowless world
Analyzed as if lockness was one of them
I always thought it would be me
Falling to where I could not be found
How am I still standing?
Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:35 AM UTC
For forty days and forty nights
We had no reasons to fight
So the planet was flooded
By the warm blooded
******* soaked
Visible ******
No more cloaks
No more loners
For everyone there was a match
But here's the insidious catch
It didn't take long for people to get bored
And start cutting and crossing cords
Until we resembled a chaotic horde
For forty days and forty nights
The Earth was flooding
Until things got muddy
And clouded transcendence
In the form of independence
Our lives keep knotting together
Our lives are rotting endeavors
We were completely happy
But felt that was too sappy
We sought edgy darkness
In a world that was shark-less
We made the world we live in
By putting on shark fins
And eating those that fall overboard
Out of their relationship
We try to be their overlord
Or add them to our list
Love grants a clenched fist
When there is value to a kiss
For forty days and forty nights
We turned on Earth's floodlights
And the world was flooded by love
Until we decided to try to look above
To see nothing there
Just the empty air
There was a time when there was love
Now there is none
Only a gun
And the number one
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 2:12 PM UTC
Life for me began as an egg, it wasn't really a special egg, just a regular egg shape with some green splotches .So, you were just like the Platypus and the Echidna ?. Exactly like the Echidna and Platypus .Well not quite exactly, those creature are mammals,
I'm more like a lizard, I'm actually part dinosuar.
My mother is a dinosuar like creature known as a Dinosapien, But I'm more human than she was. I'm about 60 percent human , though I do posses Lizard organs , My eyes are ,
My heart and lungs are, So is my ****** my appetite and my tongue
I can taste the air, Just like the snake . Em, but dinosaurs don't do that
How dya know ?, Well because of science and Jurassic park
Yah, I'm sure their both official sources, any way, so how come were having this conversation ?, well that's the one thing about dinosaurs , they were notorious for having one sided conversations with themselves, ya mean they were bonkers ?, no not crazy and once they left the nest ,were pretty much losers, I mean loners.
What about mating?, Well they had wieners ya know, no, not that and what about female dinosaurs ?, well the females didn't care , they just wanted a male for about 3 minutes, if he was lucky maybe 3 and a half, the males were more concerned about ****** contact with the ladies. So, I guess there was a lot of dudes ******* each other then ?
em, I think this conversation is over now
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
All are limitory, but each has her own
nuance of damage. The elite can dress and decent themselves,
are ambulant with a single stick, adroit
to read a book all through, or play the slow movements of
easy sonatas. (Yet, perhaps their very
carnal freedom is their spirit's bane: intelligent
of what has happened and why, they are obnoxious
to a glum beyond tears.) Then come those on wheels, the average
majority, who endure T.V. and, led by
lenient therapists, do community-singing, then
the loners, muttering in Limbo, and last
the terminally incompetent, as improvident,
unspeakable, impeccable as the plants
they parody. (Plants may sweat profusely but never
sully themselves.) One tie, though, unites them: all
appeared when the world, though much was awry there, was more
spacious, more comely to look at, it's Old Ones
with an audience and secular station. Then a child,
in dismay with Mamma, could refuge with Gran
to be revalued and told a story. As of now,
we all know what to expect, but their generation
is the first to fade like this, not at home but assigned
to a numbered frequent ward, stowed out of conscience
as unpopular luggage.
As I ride the subway
to spend half-an-hour with one, I revisage
who she was in the pomp and sumpture of her hey-day,
when week-end visits were a presumptive joy,
not a good work. Am I cold to wish for a speedy
painless dormition, pray, as I know she prays,
that God or Nature will abrupt her earthly function?
3.7k
It's year 2050
Every human was born with a symbol etched onto their skin.
you may be asking what do the symbols represent?
Each symbol is an indicator of your inevitable death.
I am Cole Adams and I've been an outcast my entire life
and its sad since I am merely 17 years old.
My symbol has a gun and its very uncommon especially since
I've never seen a red gun symbol before, which is confusing.
We grow up accepting our death and understanding it can be horrible, or for instance
if your symbol is a bed, you die in our sleep.
The people in my school who have the bed symbol are 'popular'
meanwhile loners like me who have the not so popular gun symbol OR symbol containing
a lightning bult. Its the rare ones like us who are subjected to being laughed at, which I don't understand.
Anyway I am just writing my story to explain my life.
I was 15 years old and I had fallen madly in love with a nymphet gorgeous girl, the stained pink dye in her hair with her chipped black nails struck me, I never thought to fall for a girl quite as unique as her.
I'm simple, brown hair brown eyes 5'7 and I never thought she would fall for me, but yet, she did.
We had a beautiful teenage love. We lost our virginity to each other, and in our world its not common to lose it early, just because our deaths could happen anytime.
Her symbol was the cancer zodiac sign, and it did mean the illness. It was uncommon for a girl with such a popular symbol to fall for a boy like me, but she loved me anyway. Her dark empty eyes glowed when she would look at me, she made me forget about my symbol, my thoughts would be gone around her. I loved her.
10 months in and she began to be distant, she didn't kiss my cheek and ruffle my hair. She didn't shoot off love signals as she once did. Her touch felt unknown. She fell for another person, she loved him like i've never seen before.
I never would of thought my symbol meant suicide, but it did.
With my last breath I still loved her, I loved her forever.
This is my suicide note/ story of my life.
I died on April 10th, 2051.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 3:19 PM UTC
T hough I know the truth
H urt still lingers in my breath
E mptying out into the street
M other to none, sister to one, daughter to two
O nly one slight problem, I want to be alone with
N othing to bother me, no one to disrupt my
S leepless nightmares, taunting day dreams
T onight I shall not rest until I find a way to
E nd these thoughts, but I will never
R est easy, not until I learn the meaning of peace
W hat have I become anyway?
I s this liar, this thief, this ******
T he person I've always wanted to
H onor with the title of my name?
I s this black hole swirling inside my chest
N othing more than a shell of a human being?
W hy do I always end up asking the same questions?
I may never really know who I am
L ike most drifters and loners and
L osers, I may never learn to love myself
N othing is worse than not knowing
E verything there is to know about oneself, it's
V ery unsettling, earth shattering, words don't
E ven make sense, strung together in
R epetitious strings, dangling from the ceiling
S till, a part of me, a very small part
U nderstands that my life isn't really about
B ecoming who I'm meant to be
S ometimes, it's about just learning to
I dentify with the face in the mirror, ignoring the
D enial that seeps through my heart, I know that
E veryone thinks I've lost my head. Well, maybe I have..
Dec 5, 2010
Dec 5, 2010 at 3:21 PM UTC
I took care of others, walked in their shoes,
got their trivial pains and forgot my loyal legs...
If I present you the baneful thorns I have trodden,
would you be ready to follow me again and barefoot?
My mind will always be bitterly cold
as an intact valley and never understood...
Though I am sure that you do not care,
I feel well, very well, except longing.
Your dreams are flying even everywhere
while I try to stop contemplating...
You know, I am a bit chatty when I am inspired
and the poet inside me never gets tired.
You can't grasp how painful it is to emanate a poem,
how you go out of your infatuated mind...
When 'clevers' seek for justice, but only for themselves,
there is nothing else purer than the tears of madmen.
So, happiness would have been an evident injustice,
if all of the people attained their desires.
I have faced many types of mental battles,
but no war is harder than the lack of love inside.
Love is living your life for another one's sake,
sacrificing everything with honor and pride...
Now I am sure that there exists no hate,
but just does the love of hatred indeed.
Before the absurdness of irrevocable fate
only love will save us in eternity...
No feeling will help you to be deeply blessed
while mass is spurious and loners are obsessed...
As you **** your hopes you gain fake freedom,
but free slavery will still be going on,
sometimes feeling oppressed, depressed, repressed...
However,
Invincible I am before such odd jobs
and I have found ways to keep myself up.
Now I live slowly till the time begins to blur,
paradoxes take place within my dark thoughts,
I divide the time to its perpetual aeons,
all the rules and limits I swear to deny
and save the endless time when we were eye to eye...
Through your looks the heavenly sky is clear
and all the possibilities are real there...
My benevolent angel,
let the eternity recur from the start,
only the eyes of blinds do not show their hearts...
I feel very sorry and deeply upset,
when the human inside silently regrets ...
Yet I am too clumsy to move mountains,
to achieve sanctity which I want to serve.
I wish I made you happy at my any chance,
But I can only make you happiness itself...
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 1:25 PM UTC
#
*The finest meaning of 'Wholeness'..
Is shown most fully within the intertwining
in to the pivotally and most necessary
healing of both body and mind..
In that
the perfect expression of Spirit here on Earth
can only happen through the physical--
You "feel" the Receptives and/or the Urgings
from deep within you (your flesh wrapped spirit),
That are only brought out into the light of day (made known)
the moment your very tangible fingers touch the keyboard..
Or up close..
the tangibly-heard sound your very voice-tones,
Created by your so very tangible vocal cords-- made unique
by how deeply infused your spirit is into that
beautiful mind and body of yours..
By your ever-renewed
and continual choice to heal.
Within that beautiful union, the Sensings and Respondings
of the body bring impulses into the spirit..
touching deeper, the Core--
The "Image" of Perfect, Absolute Being
placed deeply into each and every one of us..
by the very nature of Love's Ache--
Residing within the center of this Universe..
(and all other Universes).. both known..
and those also yet to be..
..An Image placed, as to be a Plumb-line,
and also a Never-ending Cinematic placement of the View
onto (and within) the inner-wall linings
of both mind and spirit..
..Seen in greater and greater "less dimly-lit" degrees,
based solely on how far we commit ourselves along,
and in to, the healing process.
In its finest form, through healing,
the things we take in.. through feeling;
and then express back out..
from both mind, and body's untethered Unfolding,
..Becomes closer and closer
to the very Expression of God's own heart,
..Therefore smashing through, and gorgeously undoing
the ever- quenching.. ever-diluting nature of Subjectivity, itself.
Hmm..
The "taking in" and then The Tremblings, of your body's
unavoidable responses are the very thing most 'maverick loners'
like me need most from another in this world,
if we are to continue on in our mission with any kind of strength..
(along with its much desperately-needed resolve).
If, within the "taking in" process.. the beautifully feeling
Receivers such as yourself, were to be overcome
to the point of release~ all alone.. on the edge of your bed..
isn't that a very understandable and nearly unavoidable
and also so very very tangible part of the process also..
--In itself
above and outside of all human (and Heavenly) judgement?
Carry on, sweet Angel..
and so gorgeously continue to be who you are.
Those that can see.. see (and feel) most clearly.*
I see you.
#
Aug 12, 2023
Aug 12, 2023 at 8:19 PM UTC
Why is it that
poets are loners.
Why is it that
artists are outcast.
Why is it that writers are
hated.
Maybe the world
notices that they are
different.
And they hated them
for it.
That's why they shunned them.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
Quiet are the fields
with ghosts
from pennants past
the aces
and cutters
set idly away
from the maple
spread fall
soft sounds
of Sunday
(chilling on the boneyard)
telling tales of
validated stars
and wheel house legends
the rally cap sluggers
with mahogany eyes
Mustard colors
in floating mists
give a hallowed glow
to sublime skies
scattered walkers
trip to the hole
their spit buckets
and spigots
pressed loosely into
pure life form
bikers and loners
and curious coffee goers
mill about the horn
whispering numbers
from an old
Keelman heaving
Alley lookers
and Mendoza lines
screachers, bleachers
from years gone by
dancing fingers
and cracks at the bat
moonshots
(from the big time Timmy Jim)
the 9th inning gunner
with sinker
and slider
and imposing
brush back ballz
the game day citizen
and dugout warrior
who lit it all up
in Rockwell fame
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 11:28 PM UTC
People build million dollars homes
Far away from the city dwellers
To be free from ordinary folks
Are well known loners
They even tried to own the high sea
Unfortunately, it belongs to all nation and mankind
It’s known as freedom and seafaring power to all
In hopes of a segregation
without the unnecessary advocating
they build swimming pools;
and Bob wire fences
It’s hard for many of us to create duplicates of heaven
Without the approval of the mighty one
These efforts would remain tantalizingly and unreachable
Like the keys to the golden gates;
Some of the loners that goes down to the depth of the ocean
To do business in the water, have failed miserably
after they have seen the works of the all mighty
However, with all their money and the power
They is no escaping from your neighbors
There is only one thing that separated us
is death
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
Where dark and devastated loners,
Eat black painted noodles.
Sorry sad singles,
Lonely people!
Who dream of dark things, nightshade and purple;
Dressed in black,
Black nail polish,
Black accessories, black shoes.
Marking the time, but no looking back;
Drowning sorrows,
With little green bottles,
Never love a tear.
Kiss seldom, like a cold rainy holiday,
The small girl nowhere views the black dressed drunk in the mirror.
Missing love on this blackest of days...
© 2014 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
If it isn't popular, if it doesn't speak from some
Religious text, many men will ignore it.
There is nothing worse than not being Christian or being gay,
I'm hated, I'm ridiculed, I'm forgotten, I have no friends.
All the world knows this is the same at all ends.
If you aren't Christian, they act like you have AIDS.
In secret they avoid you. Some Christians are the worst haters,
They always point out how "sinners" are supposedly haters,
It does say in the Bible to avoid those who are non
Believers when it comes to being close friends or on
Any level other than business. I can see how Christianity
Breeds hatred if you must witch hunt others in the process.
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 5:18 AM UTC
A fish, is a bird that cannot fly;
A bird, is a fish that cannot swim.
Eons ago, fishes may have flown;
while birds may have swum.. just
like how i have forgotten the many
things which i had done before...
Loneliness, is the revelry of one person;
Revelry, is the loneliness of many people.
Long ago, the loner had many friends,
while the party-goers used to be loners.
I myself have long forgotten when was
the last time a girl rested on my shoulder.
A fish, is a bird that cannot fly;
A bird, is a fish that cannot swim...
Copyright, Ronnie Ng 2011
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 4:41 AM UTC
My world,
was overcast in
many ways, dark
cloudy gloomy days,
scary moonless starless nights,
The heart was sinking with pain.
One day with lightning it poured as
rain of words themes, i wrote, wrote and wrote, in the dream space i float, now my grey world is painted with the colorful themes, highlighted with my deepest feelings and in the bright sky the words are dancing with syllables,
The seeds of hope buried in the dark, when watered with the raining words, sprouted. The plant, when nourished by divine grace, fertilised by new ideas and creativity, came out of doom, about to bloom. one day
it will offer the shadow
of solace and the
fruits of love to
wanderers,
stranded
broken
loners
soon
will
turn
into
poetree
Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 2:00 AM UTC
The wrong, as always, was the right for us,
tainted trust stained with the blood
of our previous victims;
those whims of wondering what loving touch could feel like.
It burnt us, softened us to smoke,
that floated quiet out the door before dawn could break the news
and break the illusion.
We were loners,
Devoted to laying the stones of our own path,
Never held back tangles of commitment.
Without them we were untethered dreams
that broke into reality and made ourselves the monarchs
of our lowley, lonely kingdoms.
Look what those whims
have done to our crowns;
Rusty and bent they fall hapless
on our heads as we stand before
crowds of shadows cast by our egos.
There are no romances, no capes,
Princes or heroes in this land of the leftovers.
Only us
The wrong adorned as right
The deniers of the light of love
(That weakness of giving in and giving all).
How cold it all becomes when our dreams are big
but hearts are empty.
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 4:10 PM UTC
Why do we do better
To make things only worse
We make our houses big
Our kids are grown
Telecommunication
New yard, technical phones.
Staring out of our window
Lost, lonely in a thoughtful watch
Wondering will someone make it
To our door or stop on our block
Or leave us in our house alone
As the quiet loner's we are.
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 6:54 AM UTC
A series of gestures & looks
hidden between words in our composition books
As we study the opposite situation
We have the right page lifted in anticipation
The story is intriguing to be honest
We hang on to every letter as if written words couldn't lie.
When in fact,they make the lie permanent.
To be truthful, we speak in winks and flutters of the eye.
It is a language we never wanted to learn,
speaking in premonitions.
It frightens us like an unlucky number
A common and uncanny superstition
So we watch happiness from the corner
with an odd sociological perspective.
The trends we notice make us loners.
Lovers without an object of affection.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
#NoMakeUp
Chic lookin' like death,
with her dyed platinum blond hair,
her fake silicone **** and all that make up,
over dressed like Halloween **** girl I'm scared,
the less you wear,
the less impressed I am,
you get dressed up just to get messed up,
smoke a cigarette then get your teeth whitened,
you get done up glam,
just to get run up in,
when,
in the world was it ever okay,
to,
disrespect yourself that way?
Getting fckt by strangers,
without getting money or commitments,
that means you're like a **********
a ********** that's not even good at business,
you're a despicable disgrace,
to the entire female race,
you wear all that cover-up,
because you've got Krocodil face,
that's Krocodil with a 'K',
better get it straight,
the kind from Russia,
that will eat your face,
eat your whole face off,
face it,
the facts are basic,
real women look way better without any fake make-up.
The only reason you need it,
is because you don't see this,
plus you fill your stomach,
with fast food *****
you're going down in flames,
what was your name Halley Comet?
Saving money on food,
so you can buy cosmetics,
maybe if you changed your diet,
you wouldn't need cosmetics,
there's nothing romantic,
about cosmetics,
cosmetics cause cancer,
don't you get it?
More vegetables,
less processed cheese,
and your face won't look,
like it's got a disease,
please,
remember these words,
real women look better without any make-up,
without all those name brands we're all naked,
believe whatever you want to,
but these words will still be true...
So stop dying,
your hair to death,
and trying,
to get the guys to stare at your breast,
you are,
so much more beautiful naturally,
and if you,
go natural well actually,
you might find,
a man who loves your mind,
a man that truly loves you,
for who you are inside.
and I promise this,
in all honestness,
no man will ever fall in love,
with a woman because of the size of her breast,
or the color of her hair,
or the brand of her dress,
no real man will ever really care,
whether your outfit is Versace or Guess,
because good men care about the real you,
not fake fashion brand names,
you are not a cow nor are you cattle,
so why would you want a label branding?
And I promise this,
in all honestness,
that this is,
honest honestness.
Real men fall in love with real women,
because of who they really are,
not who they pretend to be,
real men fall in love with real women,
because they love her soul's avatar,
and her divine femininity…
So let your hair grow,
back out to it's natural color,
if you honestly want,
to find a natural lover,
and save your self,
for those special lovers,
that are truly deserving,
of all of your natural wonders,
leave the fake hair,
for the fakers,
leave the toners,
for the loners,
leave the make up and fake dyes,
for the hookers and transvestites,
you,
are beautiful,
without,
the manicured cuticles,
you are beautiful,
just the way you naturally are,
there's no need to alter yourself,
with some silicone and scars.
Just be beautiful Beautiful,
there is no need to pretend,
and leave the makeup and fake body parts,
for the trannies and mannequins... ∆
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
My Senior English Research Paper Proposal:
I propose to talk about how society and school can affect the youth of America.
I propose to talk about how much we all don't want to talk about this.
How depression becomes common in teenagers and youth isn’t just an emotional problem- it’s societal one.
How we’re told to bury emotions, not to cry but to move on and play the game. But we only get so long before we realize it doesn’t mean anything.
Useless grades for a useless world.
Words that having no meaning besides the ones that we put behind them.
How we teach kids to be quick to laugh at the expense of others and take nothing serious because nothing matters- and how we do that without hesitation because everything matters.
How we bury everything so deep.
How that begins to hurt and overflow.
How we tell them it's all in their heads.
How they’ll outgrow it.
How we push kids to be older than they are.
How kids are shown limited paths in life when the world itself is limitless. It gives zero ***** about how we live.
How kids out of fear and loneliness turn on each other.
How we are all so desperately looking for a connection in this world but draw closer in because people are dangerous and loneliness is safe.
How we are all selfish and eventually lose the ones we love.
How love is a concept and construct warped so far that we can’t perceive it any more yet we all desparetly are told to seek it out.
How loneliness can ****
How the depression and suicide rates of kids sky rocket in high school because puberty hits and chemicals go wild and you wake up and see that you don’t have anyone who cares about you for you,
how your heroes are nothing more than **** ups like you,
and how there is no point to anything but work and death.
How the point was supposed to be communication and other people, but we washed that out of system.
Stay quiet in class rooms. No passing notes. Ignore your neighbor. Be afraid of everyone on the buses. Loners look cooler. No one really cares about you.
And how that can **** someone, those three simple words:
“No one cares.”
And how we laugh about things that aren't funny, how apathetic we become and how we try to pretend we’re okay with that because if we don’t we’ll look weak.
How we as a society have turned kindness and caring into weakness.
How ****** up we all are.
Let's talk about that.
Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 12:29 AM UTC
what a pretty sky
on a pretty day
not a cloud in the sky
the sun beams down
a single cloud
on a pretty day
alone
the sun beams down
perhaps I am the cloud
alone by myself
never surrounded by peers
a spot of paint
perhaps you are the sun
with me
pulling me up
hugging me
the universe turns
with you
orbiting a centerpiece
we can't name
a lone cloud
on a pretty day
no other in the sky
the sun beams down
another cloud apears
no more loners
in the sky
the sun beams down
perhaps you are the sun
and I am the cloud
how do you feel
I am not with you
the universe turns
you tear me apart
we grow big
you grow dark
rain in the sky
on a windy day
so many cloud in the sky
no sun beams
perhaps I am the clouds
and you are the sun
I move on
you continue to turn
a pretty sky
on a pretty day
no cloud in the sky
the sun beams down
the sun beams on
the universe turns
the sun beams on
the sun beams
Feb 28, 2017
Feb 28, 2017 at 7:09 PM UTC
Keep your feelings far from me.
I hear that shit's contagious.
I'm not trying to catch your affection.
And I've got some serious objections
to this whole love sick diagnosis.
Doctor, Doctor. What's the deal?
How's my heart of steel?
Is it melting? Warping? Disintegrating?
Write me a script for a void of emotion,
give me a brew or a potion to cure this notion
that love exists and people aren't evil.
Pills for headaches, **** ups and ******
Why not wannabe loners?
For the people who just wanna be dead inside again.
The ones who hate the feeling of feeling.
Emotions send them reeling.
I don't want to deal with healing.
I wanna die inside again and skip resurrection.
If emptiness is an infection I wanna sick forever.
I don't need a doctor, I need an emotional dissection.
Pick it apart and sew it up without fixing ****
I wanna be dead again.
Jun 9, 2013
Jun 9, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC