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Jay Silkstone Mar 2015
It wasn’t just the way she looked that made her beautiful -Although that was unmistaken to me but not necessarily to her because she never gets to see herself the way I did.
She didn’t see the way she laughed, smiled and she didn’t see the light in her eyes the way that I did; she couldn’t because she only saw herself in the mirror, and mirrors are almost always misconceiving
But she was beautiful in the way she acted and the way she talked about the things she loved, she was beautiful in the way she cared for other people and often ended up forgetting her needs almost completely.
She wasn’t just beautiful, she was the like the moon;
like drop of colour on black and white pages – she was loud and quite all at once and the little things that annoyed her, I loved even more because they were a apart of her and she was absolutely lovely and she deserves all the love in the world and not half the things she dealt with,
Because she was born the way she was and it wasn’t her choice but she chose to accept that the best she could and I admire her so greatly for that because every time I look at her
I can only imagine the battles she’s facing inside her head and I hope one day she will be able to put up the peace signs and finally look into the light of how loved and how lovely she is because
she truly is amazing.
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
It is again, plunk into pit of being
See it as is, truer than what is believing
Misconceiving notion was, still quizzed
Taken back to cage humility

Sterile, these tears, flush waves emotion
Devotion to you dear, causing commotion
Hardly do I go there, yet comes the missing
Insisting on revisiting the elicit

Still pouring over, drains illusion
Intrusion cruel, truth bearing contusion
Purge hid secrets kept by psyche's rule
Plant seeds in dry field's thought

Caught waiting for monsoon to wash over
Soak essence enduring, be nature, know her
Rain overcomes me, shell relinquished
Distinguished, I sprout again

And then, I remember once more
I am extinct
There are only a certain given number of fails.
SG Holter Oct 2014
It's time for a break.
I bring my cup of coffee
Outside.

Drizzles of rain land in
The black fluid, stirring  
The steam that smells of

Warmer sensations than
Those of being drenched and
Rained upon outside a

Construction site. Sip and
Swallow. Repeat. I let the
Screensaver of my mind set

In; gazing at the space between
Things, thinking nothing.
Sip and swallow. The cup

Warms my hand. The coffee my
Throat. Then, a single thought
Warms my chest.

The way her bathroom smells
Of the products she uses.
The way she likes her showers

Hot -so I learn to enjoy them too.
I was always turning the heat
Down, until it got unbearable.

Then stayed a little longer.
Shocking myself awake.
Misconceiving pain as a tool.

I like it comfortable now.
Soft alarms in the morning.
Clothes with room rather than

Slim cuts and tight chests.
A woman that never once walked
A catwalk, but who likes to

Stroke my back softly until I
Fade away between winter covers
That smell of her skin and sleep.

Sip and swallow. I empty the cup
And listen to the rain -heavier
Now- hit my hard hat

Like a thousand fairy drummers.
The break is over. Workday isn't.
I have dry clothes in my office.

I'm having a
Very good
Day.
Susie Nathan Jan 2020
I Should be busy
Plans were made
But I'm just not
Feeling capable.
Today.

So today it's;
Muted ringtone
Notifications too!
I'm hiding away.
Feeling miserable.
Coloured blue.

Screen illuminates,
my guilt resonates.
Messages accumulate
I can guarantee their
voices are irate.

In good faith, in honesty,
yesterday I committed.
It was a good day
I was fooled into
believing, misconceiving.


I thought the dark clouds
Had gone away!
I ought to know better!
The nature of this
Smothering beast,
Cannot be tethered.
He loosens his grip
But will never
Fully release.
Hunter Sep 2019
I’ll turn into a monster for you,
If you pay me enough.
I’ve been resisting this decay,
I thought you’d do the same.

I try my best to give you the life you want,
What would you have me do?
Is there another way?
Love tell me there is another way.

I’m climbing over something,
And I’m running through these walls.
I’m so tired of misconceiving,
What else is it?

Open up my eyes,
Tell me where you want to go.
Tell me you love me,
And hold me tight
Random anxieties I get when I finally find something stable in my life. Sometimes it feels like I have to prove myself in this relationship sometimes, but I'm stubborn as hell and don't give up.
Daan Jun 2020
My father's boss is yelling
through his headphones.
He is telling this and that
while my father's head moans.

His pulse has visibly risen.
Still, working from home
is better than from prison,
where there is no place to roam.

Oh, the office, such a dull
and misconceiving place.
A bunch of rooms to mull
in, furthest from a warm embrace.

Oh, humanity misunderstood
how to make a man feel good.
Sigh

— The End —