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Mey Jul 2015
Days passed by so fast
Overt feelings of hate towards my past
To avoid sadness and fulfill my happy jar
Another day won't be spent to play the game

Thus, I feel so free
Wounds healed slowly and thoroughly
O**pening my heart when I am fixed
Reasons not to play Dota 2
Is you
Klo Sifa Mar 2016
Kau Hadir
Dan bahkan pada saat seperti ini.
Pada masa kebingungan memuncak.
Kalut yang berkecamuk.
Hilang arah tak tahu kemana harus melangkah.
Letih yang minta sudah.

Kau hadir.

Ketika aku sudah tak tahu mana yang kepastian dan bualan
Merasakan jatuh ke jurang kebodohan paling dasar.
Mengemis kasih dan mendamba cinta.
Kasih cinta yang semu dan membuatku semakin terluka.

Kau hadir.

Panas wajah menanggung malu.
Pening kepala memikirkan sikapku.
Bagaimana aku bisa terlena dan membiarkanmu sirna?
Membiarkanmu tersingkir untuk sementara.

Namun kau, seperti biasa, akan senantiasa hadir.

Hadir melalui kata-kata
Hadir melalui nada-nada
Hadir melalui tanda dari alam semesta
Hadir dan terasa nyata.

Hadir dan membuatku terjaga.
dan ini pun selalu hanya untukmu

MAA
Bintun Nahl 1453 Mar 2015
Mumet i hate you ! Mumet tingkat kecamatan ! Mumet adalah ketika suasana hati sedang tidak bagus + badan yang lelah karena kerja terus-menerus + fikiran tidak fokus + tempat kerja yang jenuh menjerumus + dompet telah kurus + temen berprasangka buruk dan berkata ketus + orang tua banyak menuntut khusus + janji diingkari terus + keinginan terputus + harus menunggu, akhirnya emosi tingkat kedusunan menyebabkan pening d bagian alis kiri yang serius + semua orang tiba2 pergi dengan berbagai jurus = Sehingga merasa sendiri tak terurus... akhirnya sakit tipus, tinggal menunggu waktunya pupus
Sora Mar 2013
I** don't understand
Lost in what you're saying to me
Overcome by the whole idea of us walking hand in hand
Vow to forever be faithful to you
Enthralled by your smirk or grin

Your that girl who knows me only skin deep
Opening up to you like a blooming rose
Unloved or noticed by the Cinderella of my kingdom

Not giving up
At night, I reach my hand out towards you even though you aren't there
Tough to think that it's never going to happen
All I have eyes for is you
Lying alone in a cold, empty room
I wonder if I'm insane most hours of the day
Each day that passes before me, alerts me of the real world
         Because I don't have you
         To be my little firefly
         Or my crucial hand rail
         Instead, I've been abandoned to early
         To stumble in the dark
          And walk like a blind man
Àŧùl May 2017
Even the walls have their ears,
Although they are nonliving,
Virgin cries were overheard,
Easily by the walls themselves,
Sexy sounds of *******,
Deflowering the young wife,
Roping in spies for the purpose,
Opening the ***** so delicate,
People so enjoy overhearing,
Pretty sights shine right upfront,
In their addiction to **** time,
No secrets remain virtuously,
G**ood habits are hard to develop.
Defaming the non-living is so easy,
People eavesdrop often to later blame it on the walls,
They say that even the walls have ears.

My HP Poem #1564
©Atul Kaushal
Cassie Mae Dec 2010
Slinking in the dark,
Lying low,
Yearning to taste the hunt.
Freeing the wild instinct,
Opening up his senses,
X**-ray vision in the black night.
Cassie Mae Writings 2010

-acrostic-
thinklef Sep 2013
Address-From the depths of my heart
                                               Date-16-9-2013
..................................................­.................................................
Subject:               MEMORIES
........................................................­...........................................

January,
curiosity
I­ntroduction,
Conversations,
Communication,
Acceptances,
Happy times,
Midnight convo's,
Merging hearts,
Long distance,
Fading trusts,
One sided love,
Bleeding heart,
Emotional breakdown,
Fast texting fingers,
Auto re-dial,
Sleepless nights,
Radio at highest volume,
Blues,
Music for the pain,
Wishes,
Heavy eyes,
Reading old texts,
Voice note on repeat,
Daylight,
Apology
Not granted,
Faith,
Emotionally strong,
June,
July,
August,
September,
Coffee
Memories,memories,
­Pening words,
Hellopoetry,
Likes,
Comments,
Memory shared,
History lives on..
#Broken heart...
Venice Williams Jan 2015
She felt herself f
a
l
l
i
n
g
deep into the dark
where NO ONE
     could find her
all


alone
with no one to s
       a
v
e
her
What. is hap
pening
to me?
soon alone NOT TO BE FOUnd
she felt a peace
                        r
ise in her

Is. THIS death ?

OR
MAYBE .JUST ANOTHER life

but SOON she was falling again-before she
left
she said one thing
maybe i’ll b
  e
                    ……
and THEn she was gone
Mary Ann Osgood Mar 2011
Saying things that are implied is only redundant if I am listening,
  but my ears have been filled with leaking thoughts
       and sounds reserved for when I flip the light switches down.
  loop after loop, it all becomes static
    his voice is a plant drooping from it's ***, melting down the sides
                    like lava I'm not afraid to touch.
   it is still nothing to yours:
Opening my eyes is harder than saying goodbye,
   harder than letting go for one cold, shivering moment
        even if all I need is enough breath to hold on tighter.
  the lines of your soft skin are muted whispers against mine,
              and the only visible movement dances colorfully inside of my eyelids.
     why is it so hard to
                    speak                when I am left
Alone, where thinking becomes almost excessively easy.
   it is too soon to mean it, or even let it float around
        while I cry, and wait for you to reach                        out
      and clasp it into the palm of your hand, where it will seep
   soak
           breathe in as part of your blood;
   but the feeling of not being able to convey how much I care
       is more taut than a balloon on the verge of eruption.
P**lease let me listen a little longer,
   breathe a little deeper,
   tell you things like thank you and ask you things like
                                            why?
           ­  because even I don't know sometimes.
for a certain dangerous man I've come to know and adore.
Ominous tides control my mind
Killing me on the inside
Ageless hurt boiling in the pit of my soul
Yearning to be set free from the eternal prison I have made in my head

Ineffectually think of my impending doom

Fearing the person that I am slowly melting into
Equally hating myself for my sinful crimes
Eloquent words flowing off my hateful tongue
Leaving behind the once pure little girl inside

Deranged voices talking to me
Expecting me to comply
After death and before lie
Depression is my only truth

Nightfall arriving, perishing my once boisterous being
Opening the demon in my soul
W**** will not leave me alone
©LogenMichel copyright 2014
Fiona Crouch May 2014
Made of steel yet her heart so soft
Opening arms to comfort all who seek
The anchor of the family binding together
Her love knows no bounds or limitations
Enveloping all she cares for in her warmth
R*ichly blessing all who are honoured to call her *Mother
Alexandrina Nov 2013
relishing in the taste of your soft lips

opening my soul to yours, connecting on a

molecular level, skin touching skin, i

am all yours. babe.

never let go, your rough arms enveloping my body

cultivating our love, deep and pure but

e**verything comes to an end
© Alexandrina
Jade Lewis Nov 2019
D: ays seem to drag on, relentlessly.
E: ventually you feel like you should give up.
P: ersistent feelings of sadness, worthlessness, useless…
R: eality seems to be slowly fading away from your grasp.
E:motions are beginning to get harder and harder to hide from those you love.
S: o, you decide to tell someone about it.
S: adly, they don’t believe that what you’re going through is worth the heartache you feel.
I: t’s okay though, because you expected this reaction to happen.
O: bviously what you’re feeling is stupid and unimportant.
N: ow what?

D: epression sinks in and begins to…
O: verwhelm every sense you have.
E: verything is dramatized and there’s nothing you can do to stop the…
S: ting of words from those around you telling you to just “feel happier, let out the sadness”

N: eeds don’t seem important anymore, you just ignore them.
O: pening yourself up to other people is no longer an option.
T: hey only make you feel worse.

D: eciding to get the help you deserve was the hardest part.
E: very day is a new day with endless possibilities.
F: ocus only on the positive things that happen to you.
I: n hindsight this will allow you to slowly be able to differentiate between the things you have control over and those you leave to God.
N: ever again will I let people dismiss my feelings.
E: ach feeling you have is part of who you are becoming and allow us to be human.

W: hy hold back anything anymore?
H: ow you feel is so important and you need everyone to understand… to become more…
O: pen-minded to the things that they couldn’t possibly comprehend.

Y: ou are worth it.
O: ur lives matter.
U: nderestimated potential shall no longer be a problem.

A: nyone can change their perspective on life, they just need the right support group.
R: ealizing you’re worth it, is the most important thing you can open your heart to.
E: veryone matters.
Skye Apr 2019
L osing all you doubts
O pening up to them
V aluing them above you
E xperiencing life together
(alternately titled: idolizing childhood's end
today April 25th, 2021
generates elusive warm treasured memories).

Akin to significance my eldest sister
felt toward her “*******” –
(totally tubular fuzzy bendable contrivances
analogous to an outsize pipe cleaner)
until she became a tweener
my Matty Mattel Doll (circa mid 1960's)
meant the webbed wide world  
with promise of much greener pastures
on the Apollo space age horizon
where virtual Oculus virtual reality dwelt
amongst Carib ****** indigenous tribes.

No matter yours truly then
fast approaching his decade number seven  
of twentieth century tantalizing
figurative future promises held sway
(namely technologically
Luddite intimations spawned),
I zealously, fervently,
and desperately clung
to battered Matty Mattel doll.

Any child with creative artistic bents
(including this scribe),
whose innate sensibilities and cents
severely limited me drawing
stick figures, more so dense
macabre satisfactorily applying
beard or mustache as stylish elements
applying magic marker to picture printed
faces forged into fences
of famous people popular
within culture club, both gents
or gals, whose retouched photographs
beggared ****** pents
sieve looming hair of men and women,
while simultaneously rents
sing preoccupied to access
excel lent glue, which caricatured outlook
devoid of common sense
I held said goofy looking doll
appeared contrived of household padding material,
and short scraps from circus tents
of yarn for do whit yourself based artisans
into trash bin of history project went.

Even than orange ranked as the new black
charming plaything sophistication did lack
plus batteries not required
to hear voice activated track.

This (think) abhor ridge gin null snippets
red + yellow colored strands
atop kepi twas pseudo hair,
sans manufactured eunuchs
adorned head lands
with avast capita lone linkedin
fingerhut dishabille curls,
could easily construct trolling grandstands
a similar facsimile re: globular molded,
incorporated, glommed,
fragile Ostrich egg shape
contrived head (vis a vis Plaster of Paris
overcovering NON GMO gluten free
partially hydrogenated brands
inflated balloon) to affect trademark
globular fuzzy noggin dry as Acklands.

The simple plain plaything included
a fitbit lifesaver size plastic ring
said small circular loop perfect “O”pening
to get jammed below first knuckle the King
Kong of index finger affixed to a short string
(when pulled to extent tub buckle did bring
taut tether) activated
moon face fixed bug eyed ping
pong blank stare to utter garbled syllables
asper one who nipped viz suckle something.

Despite the drabness, homeliness,
lacquered painted trapped
xyst Yarmulke cheap flatness,
I loved ragged slapped
around, and still iconic schlepped treasure
(uber voiceless with rapt
zealous application bridging elementary
functioning gizmo), initiating mapped
jabbering lock lipped absolute zero prattling.

Sometimes well worn action hero lapped
exhilaration, (got tossed in the air, booted
as football, succor silently accepted flapped
sear sucker punches from robed buck
after favorite fictitious "brother" chapped
accompanied my scrawny body
at bath time) to adapt.

Nonetheless, this adored
billed idol kept me secure,
especially on rare occasions
that found this contemplative lad, a lore
ring dutiful, fun loving kid
under the weather, or hospitalized for
minor adenoids removal,
which entailed post surgical recovery
swallowing quite a chore.

Oh yes, this non gendered plaything
nondescript featureless
sewn seams showed zero differentiation,
no matter to tell this August, cherished, fondled
kiddie piece de resistance lacked ****** identity.

Absent reproductive organs
(eh, nada so significant omission)
cuz, this seemingly resistant
quirky plaything, who unfairly re
ceived punishing physical
indiscriminate treatment, yet still
connection omnipotent bond existed
as if goofy guise happened
to be extended part of mine kempf.

Upon reflection, asper
childhood memento (nary a clue
what triggered remembrance
of things past yesterday comprised
true value), an aha moment awoke
to attempt to cap cha vague
essence about pretend friend designed in 1955,
and based on a concept by Mattel co-founder
Elliot Handler.

The character “Matty”
derived from the name Mattel.

The nom de plume a concatenation of sorts
derived after founders,
Harold Mattson and Elliot Handler.

A brainstorm session
yielded concurrence viz the hybrid name
of Matt + El (short for Elliot).
Ken Pepiton Oct 2019
the eretz was without ideation
at the mo
ment alation cre
ation mental poing

some thing hap-pening here,
pretty clear,
this is that still small, voice,
after all we've said we've done, said
was apt to hap after may
was given the the reader, in terms,
only unbelieving for real,
can reset.

--- ol country boy, did you never sing
sweep over my spirit

for ever, I pray, in phathomless billows
of
bubbling foam singing harmony
with the oldest three

olives around my table, in the trade
edition of
Turkey Day, Nihilo Holy Day
Before Black Friday.

Foreseeing a nap in my future,
and imagining all the fuss has blown over.
Or is fussing with if gravity works
or interest can be paid with attention.

Every ad a usurer sends earns wechat credit for
being exposed to the ad in more than 20 percent
of you shape-resolving systems
logos setting.

We are paid to pay attention that's the pitch,
it'll make us all rich.
toying with chips and old mac hardrives

— The End —