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"requited" poems
My recollect is of the each, The Two And within the Two One is the One Holding and using our lead and ink utensils as if they are weapons for winning at Love, and reasoning for our written duel Expressing desires the voice would customarily sever into dissection Permitting authority to the crafted scripts *********   and may it’s barrier lay over the possibility of a broken and scattered tongues communicate Giving our internal intent its day the way hoped it would speak Expecting the requited, the return was a pesticide over wide horizon, Where the organic surprise of rainfall kept us neutral and thankful And apart, our minds maintained with and of our other With no need for philosophical proofs only the inner felt proof Of forwarding shards of sentiment with compiled assurance and a dispatched formula the best way we could phrase Alongside images that came in and held tight in sectors tucked away and reserved from the cherished to this day are still to be amazed Spontaneous placement of universally synchronized jewels and stones Of not have to have [Only the simplified, pushed down and planted fact] Of want her to have So when away, You feel a personal, singled-out appraisal of praise
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Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 9:07 PM UTC
APPRAISAL OF PRAISE
serendipitous memories and wistful sighs cherry blossom petals twirling amidst the skies efflorescent flowers ephemeral hours ethereal sunsets and starry constellations anguished thoughts and secret frustrations incandescent candles burn as if awaiting your return anguish and lingering despair heartbreak and hollow emptiness caused by unforsaken pettiness merely the potential difference between requited love and bittersweet limerence
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Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 5:07 PM UTC
bittersweet limerence
If you are afraid of the unrequited, there is a chance you might have learned it from a parent. and you were probably young; children are too impressionable. it lingered in the air and echoed through the silence when you asked your mom when you were going to see dad again. the word “unrequited” is a taste bud on the back of your tongue that will always remind you how even the sweetest things turn sour. If you are afraid of the unrequited, you will start to type a message to your friends because the loneliness has become to heavy, but you will always be stopped by the sour taste of trying to swallow your pride. If you are afraid of the unrequited, you might apologize for yourself every day and tell people that you wouldn’t blame them if they cut you off. maybe being alone will feel a little easier if you are certain you did something to deserve it. If you are afraid of the unrequited, you might go out in public to make sure you are seen, talk to yourself to know that you have a voice, watch strangers converse to convince yourself that everybody has somebody, even you, you might write poetry to try and teach yourself the lessons on the love that was never requited to you.
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Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
Afraid of the Unrequited
Never have I been the best at hiding how I feel.  There is no peaceful game.  My face reveals the truth.  Never to be doubted.  Nothing left to wonder.  Still, I reign it in.  I stifle my reality in an attempt to keep you close.  So tender-hearted beneath that thickening shell.  The shell I penetrated somehow.  Once you found me in your heart, you pushed with all your might.  Trying to get me out.  I cannot be budged. Yet, I am not free to love you.  You refuse to let me be yours in theory or practice.  You love me, but not by choice.  Fear of the possibility of pain keeps you at bay.  Yet saving yourself from pain has deemed my own inconsequential.  For running from me pulls out my heart.   **Pushing me away What's best, or just what's easy Burns holes in my soul** Not one to take the easy way out.  Suffering to love you.  There is no expectation of love requited.  There is nothing but a dream, part memory part wishful thinking.  Hot needles still poke at me, slowly breaking me down.  Weakening my very being with the sharp jabs of stinging words or careless action, or worse...absolute inaction.  I have learned to stop expecting the "Morning Sunshine" or "'Night Darlin'" that used to brighten each day.  Those thoughtless things, the tiny nothing things that let me know I was on your mind.  So far from nothing those nothings were.  Days and nights seem incomplete in their absence.  Weaning to make your days bearable makes mine unendurable, empty, and melancholy has come to underlie all things.   **Joy of love melts ice Heat smothered by a tear cloud Threadbare soul survives** Challenges faced sideways leave blind spots. Choices made by indecision.  Letting mistakes be made, watching as they choose wrong. I see the truth and know what I know.  Everything is aligned for my own misfortune.  For as a bystander, I lay no claims.  Anything I do will hasten the inevitable.  So I let the weaning drip down to nothing.  Reluctantly I watch as you disappear with my heart in hand.  I stood firm as you ran away in place.  You turned to me, you needed me, you loved me.  As the clouds dissipate and the sun creeps over the horizon, With the blue sky I turn to mist. Slowly fading to the past.  A ghost of could've been, used to be, and never was **Surrender takes time                         Reluctantly relinquished                                                I will fight no more**
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Oct 7, 2011
Oct 7, 2011 at 12:36 AM UTC
So the Story Goes (a Haibun)
Never have I been the best at hiding how I feel.  There is no peaceful game.  My face reveals the truth.  Never to be doubted.  Nothing left to wonder.  Still, I reign it in.  I stifle my reality in an attempt to keep you close.  So tender-hearted beneath that thickening shell.  The shell I penetrated somehow.  Once you found me in your heart, you pushed with all your might.  Trying to get me out.  I cannot be budged. Yet, I am not free to love you.  You refuse to let me be yours in theory or practice.  You love me, but not by choice.  Fear of the possibility of pain keeps you at bay.  Yet saving yourself from pain has deemed my own inconsequential.  For running from me pulls out my heart.   **Pushing me away What's best, or just what's easy Burns holes in my soul** Not one to take the easy way out.  Suffering to love you.  There is no expectation of love requited.  There is nothing but a dream, part memory part wishful thinking.  Hot needles still poke at me, slowly breaking me down.  Weakening my very being with the sharp jabs of stinging words or careless action, or worse...absolute inaction.  I have learned to stop expecting the "Morning Sunshine" or "'Night Darlin'" that used to brighten each day.  Those thoughtless things, the tiny nothing things that let me know I was on your mind.  So far from nothing those nothings were.  Days and nights seem incomplete in their absence.  Weaning to make your days bearable makes mine unendurable, empty, and melancholy has come to underlie all things.   **Joy of love melts ice Heat smothered by a tear cloud Threadbare soul survives** Challenges faced sideways leave blind spots. Choices made by indecision.  Letting mistakes be made, watching as they choose wrong. I see the truth and know what I know.  Everything is aligned for my own misfortune.  For as a bystander, I lay no claims.  Anything I do will hasten the inevitable.  So I let the weaning drip down to nothing.  Reluctantly I watch as you disappear with my heart in hand.  I stood firm as you ran away in place.  You turned to me, you needed me, you loved me.  As the clouds dissipate and the sun creeps over the horizon, With the blue sky I turn to mist. Slowly fading to the past.  A ghost of could've been, used to be, and never was **Surrender takes time                         Reluctantly relinquished                                                I will fight no more**
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12
The pages dripped, As so the time of the lover. What seemed so pure, Gone the distant time another. From tears to blood, Pleased and fitted the seeking lines. This writing love, Above all the pure soul he whines. Somberly eased, One seeks a fine place to rest on. Of all chastised, Left a soul requited and blessed. Run forgiveness, Placed heavenly upon his chest.
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Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 6:51 PM UTC
Stranger
I am a yellow rose. Good for nothing but friendship. You hold me in your hand. As you walk across the garden. Red roses are tradition, Lovely unlike the rest. If not for their thorns, Surely they’d be your favorite. Orange roses shine in the sun. More delicate than I. They accept your every loving ‘brace. I stare as you hold them. I’ll never make you smile, Not when they shine. Yet Night and Day, I’m told my love is requited.
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Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
Roses
Rendered offenses Sweat in the opinion, sakes And due attention, to reason amends Acting only a little saner, the stark stare a host makes... Do you notice, evermore? Anyway, the truth we prepose of... Has a callous beginning, too sore For a challenge of wisdom, that even does? Prayers of dour anger... For the aspire and means we favor With a realm to a touch, tough knowing you and life's danger... The reality of another fight, with sin as the futures flavor? Speed has a question, dwindling in the wind Suspect days, to redoubt and list the scope of an argument That has the silence we afforded it, to keep the shadows of kin Proper is as proper had, the hush of simple tomorrows, a problem to relent... Toward sharing, the taste of a hoping kiss...? That when recognized, sympathy is an answer; only a heed can tell... The prayer of estrangement, has become a chastity's wish Will a savior in love, know the better of kindness; here's your hell... With a baring lip, that has suggested a toothsome reply to quips And hearts to accept the solace of terror, a harrowing finish to past lies...? That began and ended with a promise found in the bolting and gray wits Of a dread simplicity, still running to wisdom's charity, which requited...
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Sep 21, 2023
Sep 21, 2023 at 8:55 PM UTC
Make-Up On A Nice David (rescued horses)
A million lights dance on the ground, Speechless I cant make a sound, For one light shines bright so pure and true, My eyes don't lie, that light is you, I looked around me to my surprise, All other lights dimmed in your eyes, Un-requited, its for the best, These feeling stay locked in my chest, Just know although you may not be mine, In my eyes you will always shine.
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:24 AM UTC
Shine
The absence of light, cast down from your glory, Try as it might, it is trapped in your story, A friend to the end, no one knows you more, But it cant contented, it has tried before, It wants you to see, it wants you too hear, But you close your eyes, it wont disappear, Why do you forsake it? Cast it aside? When its followed you, stuck too you with pride, Its love un-requited, efforts in vain, Who ever thought shadows felt pain. I use to think the shadows mocked me, But I am nothing more than a shadow, stuck by your side, Forever my sister, forever aside.
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Jul 7, 2015
Jul 7, 2015 at 12:51 AM UTC
Within the Shadows
I HAVE ransacked the encyclopedias And slid my fingers among topics and titles Looking for you. And the answer comes slow. There seems to be no answer. I shall ask the next banana peddler the who and the why of it. Or-the iceman with his iron tongs gripping a clear cube in summer sunlight-maybe he will know.
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2.2k
Old-fashioned Requited Love
I am the light between the naked branches. You stare out at me for answers but this is only a slow morning not a requited prayer You see the birds, benevolent and we smile at their freedom.
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Jan 2, 2022
Jan 2, 2022 at 5:11 AM UTC
Top floor
winter covers the earth in a requited slumber dropping a bleak veil of prolonged eventides a sparse season's dire landscape professes a chill of privation, across frost crusted furrors crowning cold fallow fields resting from offerings of a past season's yield reaping passages to the royal realms the mystic visions of this twilight nexus germinating seeds burrowed deeply in recurring reveries of future harvests our dreamscapes of abundance, sustained in the deepest memory of the advent of new seasons Music Selection: Paul Winter Consort: Icarus Oakland 12/21/13 jbm
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 2:25 AM UTC
Solstice Dreamscape
purple prints smudged on the canvas of white skin the only remnants of the great requited love that once softened our bones waves of passion that broke onto the beach of violence blame and bruises
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Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
bruises
It's cranberry sauce That’s it, I’ve done it My brain is mush Heartbeat through a megaphone I’m pulling on my pant legs Tightening my veins around my bones & I think the thermometer in my brain needs reprogrammed I. Now I’m a cozy embryo With cotton in my marrow Last of my breed so the bad men can’t see me I’m sitting here in my own bullet train Flying through metro lights at night With coruscating sodium vapor Vibrating in my peripheries My appendages do not exist II. We are the carbon monoxide leak We are the cold coaxing hypothermia Still trying to define the agony of existence & Beauty of meaning through definition III. “If you don’t get old, you die” Shut up & pay your taxes old man I can stay young for as long as I want I am healthy I am eternal I’ve got all the cotton in the world IV. I wonder if all sentient life deals With the same paranoia as humans do It’s the reason we never shut up & hold love for vague idols V. I like smiles & I like sadness VI. What does loneliness see when it chases its Shadow? You’ve got a mouse in your hand that cannot know that you are Sentient. You are a wooden giant from outer space that burned upon Entry. Where does apathy sleep when it has had too much to Eat? Why can’t you see your house from three million miles Away? If you need help breathing then you deserve to die in Appalachia. If I lie here long enough under enough blankets, then I'm not real Is it possible to save up enough money to avoid humans Altogether? Just like that, the spiral ceases We were packed Like sardines Wrapped in butcher paper Blind night vision Then deer in headlights Kissing the pavement Mutually requited Uninterest
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Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
Cotton Room
It's cranberry sauce That’s it, I’ve done it My brain is mush Heartbeat through a megaphone I’m pulling on my pant legs Tightening my veins around my bones & I think the thermometer in my brain needs reprogrammed I. Now I’m a cozy embryo With cotton in my marrow Last of my breed so the bad men can’t see me I’m sitting here in my own bullet train Flying through metro lights at night With coruscating sodium vapor Vibrating in my peripheries My appendages do not exist II. We are the carbon monoxide leak We are the cold coaxing hypothermia Still trying to define the agony of existence & Beauty of meaning through definition III. “If you don’t get old, you die” Shut up & pay your taxes old man I can stay young for as long as I want I am healthy I am eternal I’ve got all the cotton in the world IV. I wonder if all sentient life deals With the same paranoia as humans do It’s the reason we never shut up & hold love for vague idols V. I like smiles & I like sadness VI. What does loneliness see when it chases its Shadow? You’ve got a mouse in your hand that cannot know that you are Sentient. You are a wooden giant from outer space that burned upon Entry. Where does apathy sleep when it has had too much to Eat? Why can’t you see your house from three million miles Away? If you need help breathing then you deserve to die in Appalachia. If I lie here long enough under enough blankets, then I'm not real Is it possible to save up enough money to avoid humans Altogether? Just like that, the spiral ceases We were packed Like sardines Wrapped in butcher paper Blind night vision Then deer in headlights Kissing the pavement Mutually requited Uninterest
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56
I didn't push you You decided to walk away Couldn't bear the taste of Defeating over a heart that Was once in your hand I'm not even surprised I would throw up, too 'Coz my heart is dark and bubbly Bitterly smelling and rotting slowly In a chest of a girl Who's perfectly alive And now you're here again Visiting my mind But I won't let you stay You've started a graveyard In my head and in my heart Maybe if things went different There would be “lover” on your stone And few days ago I saw here “friend” Now I can't help but write “stranger” again And there you are Wandering in my mind asking for flowers But I won't visit your grave Not even once again Because there's no point Mourning over people Who are dead, yet alive Why would I cry again if I did it before? The corpses are falling apart, slowly Memories idealised, lying Pretending how pretty it was When we were together, trying to Make me remember things I don't want The look in your glassy eyes is irking Not even trying to pretend the woe Over somebody you've lost Because you don't care enough to go to the funeral Of someone you loved and trusted blindly Calling me sweet and holding me tightly And in my thoughts It's like kissing a skull Dead hand grabbing mine Reaching from dirt and mud We are the same Living skeletons of one another Living without a shame We lost a lover You started a graveyard As a first man I started a graveyard By not loving them And you started a row of lovers But their love was never requited So I pushed them down a cliff of disappointment Or they choose to go the same path as you did Not like there's a difference Because whatever way you choose I'll let you down, either fall or walk And at the end you just see your name on a stone And me, putting the heart I ripped out your chest To put it in another and bury it six feet down Where I can't reach it anymore Unfortunately, where you can't reach it, too So after all this time, I still have your heart But I won't call you mine You're just a memory on faded photograph That I put by the stone One last time I visited And never came back again
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 2:27 AM UTC
Graveyard
I didn't push you You decided to walk away Couldn't bear the taste of Defeating over a heart that Was once in your hand I'm not even surprised I would throw up, too 'Coz my heart is dark and bubbly Bitterly smelling and rotting slowly In a chest of a girl Who's perfectly alive And now you're here again Visiting my mind But I won't let you stay You've started a graveyard In my head and in my heart Maybe if things went different There would be “lover” on your stone And few days ago I saw here “friend” Now I can't help but write “stranger” again And there you are Wandering in my mind asking for flowers But I won't visit your grave Not even once again Because there's no point Mourning over people Who are dead, yet alive Why would I cry again if I did it before? The corpses are falling apart, slowly Memories idealised, lying Pretending how pretty it was When we were together, trying to Make me remember things I don't want The look in your glassy eyes is irking Not even trying to pretend the woe Over somebody you've lost Because you don't care enough to go to the funeral Of someone you loved and trusted blindly Calling me sweet and holding me tightly And in my thoughts It's like kissing a skull Dead hand grabbing mine Reaching from dirt and mud We are the same Living skeletons of one another Living without a shame We lost a lover You started a graveyard As a first man I started a graveyard By not loving them And you started a row of lovers But their love was never requited So I pushed them down a cliff of disappointment Or they choose to go the same path as you did Not like there's a difference Because whatever way you choose I'll let you down, either fall or walk And at the end you just see your name on a stone And me, putting the heart I ripped out your chest To put it in another and bury it six feet down Where I can't reach it anymore Unfortunately, where you can't reach it, too So after all this time, I still have your heart But I won't call you mine You're just a memory on faded photograph That I put by the stone One last time I visited And never came back again
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69
“The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.” –Sayuri, Memoirs of a Geisha I bet the Furies are laughing For such misery Fate has made me. Anymore and I’ll do more than pitying, A hopeless case as bad as it’ll be. Maybe it’s all being orchestrated And what’s missing is a cut-off thread. Never a love like this be requited, Oh,throw me by all means, good and dead. No wonder, I’m gluttonous of desire, And here, I’m Cerberus’ best feast. Even as I struggle away from the fire, Well,I’m still caught in the least. Go ahead, feed on my carcass, Likewise, suffer like Fantine. Singing in misery till I pass, Carry me away to a lake with pristine. I wish then to not hear a lull, Let that gentle hand rescue my soul. Now my heart’s safe from hurt or fall, Ready to be given for a better goal. Good riddance from the hands of Eris, But am I really cleared off? Romance,not even found out of Paris, Never mine to be with or to scoff. So until then, I’ll dance alone With an accompaniment of a shamisen, Seeking my love to be requited on the zone Behind a fan and mask smothered by a writer’s pen. Don’t forget in my sleeves, a swan song Is waiting to be released so… Pick what appeases you for long, Be it I’m Not That Girl, No Good Deed, or Let It Go.
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
Call Me The Modern-day Hera (Put My Heart Away)
A poet's heart has called to me Beckoning, I come willingly A soul so open I can see The imperfections Reflecting mine in harmony Shining reflection So bare and raw from years of pain Scorched from all the dragons slain Still, a peaceful core remains With hopeful of laughter Seeking love without disdain For ever after Through the blood poured on a page Soaked from all the tears of rage Gathered wisdom of a sage The words are calling Freeing birds from in a cage No fear of falling To the Scribe:  I offer you An honest soul to shelter you There is nothing left for you to do Your words have won me Wounds have healed, and hearts renewed Bestowed upon thee So take my humble offering Hold it close and hear it sing Perhaps some very special things We'll brew together As souls are tied upon a string Forever tethered With words so strong to pull me in Bleeding tears right through the skin Boring passion deep within We have united Lovers heat burns oxygen Through words requited
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 4:31 AM UTC
Upon the Wings of Words
Rose of a champion Thought, in a beautified accord Set to waiting hours, a needs complexion Where we are, the tale of unity to its peaceful order... Skip, argue or define The truth, we removed by bounty of pouts...? Sated avarice, and the curtness of kin caught in a notorious lie... Welcome a shadow to breath, when a harrowed eye allowed...? Is a requited girth, of when, any of a decency's curse? Has found me, in a live and by chastity's purpose Handsomer skills that agree, in no known terms... I had the taste of pride, like a reality of sin, to accuse Why...? No man with a tradition of sincerity, is this island commit Without the sigh of me, the irony to dwell and seek tight The course of another ship of fortune, that has seldom to wit: Look, an eye of poise, if not intellects poison... Made manifest by the only few, of bared conscience That has us for curiosity's fool, but you, for another hero to loan A flower of understated chaste; a victim of letters of prescience? Tall tales of nothing more than a drunk hysteria? Here is your mind, in my way for one more timidity... Think and details of weal, we will know until votes ***** drama To a reaching hour, no one above another, like acts of humanity...
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Sep 4, 2022
Sep 4, 2022 at 3:17 PM UTC
The Practiced Eye Waits (For Lovers Denied)
I can't be patient for any longer because I've been waiting for too long Everything I've ever done feels worthless and like a disaster I don't know who will love me when things get bad Because things are bad And the people that I need the most are too far away or too consumed to notice To notice that I'm drowning in a sea of misery and paranoia My breaths have become shorter and my pupils are dilated I gaze into other people's eyes and I see nothing A long time ago, I made a conscious decision to see nothing And now I'm blind But with blindness comes increase sensitivity of my other senses So now my tears fall down my face and they feel like acid on my skin Every whisper falls into... This isn't living This isn't life Because life happens and this is something else This is bigger than me This is something that will still hover over my head when I wake up And it will haunt me till I go to sleep The worst part is that I don't know how to effectively cope With everything life has bestowed upon me So I'm left on the curb Staring at a finish line And I'm paralyzed I'm alone with the thoughts and the voices that brought me to this state of recklessness This state of unrevealed truth and blanketed wounds My feelings aren't gone because I chose to share them Shared they were, but only two people recognized the cry for help I was transparent and found But we're all too lost And I'm too broken to win another battle Weight is on my chest and I'm bitter over someone I have been in a dark place for so long, that I've forgotten what light looks like I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop crying I don't think I'll ever stop crying These droplets will forever fall from my grayish irises onto pavement and rocks and nothingness Pain doesn't go away Pain becomes me I am tired and I cannot sleep and I'm afraid of what the future holds Because at moments like this I question the existence of a future "I drank coffee, and read old books, and waited for the year to end" But I've been doing that for 6 years, and I'm tired So I need to be held and helped by someone or something I need to remember what sweetness tastes like And I need to piece together this puzzle called life There are no leaves on the trees Don't mistake it for fall Because the leaves were never there I need to be closer to love than I am right now To love that is requited The love that I've felt before The love that is sweaty palms and mumbled giggles Rhapsodies of savior Someone,save me Help me save myself
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Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
Rhapsodies of Savior
I can't be patient for any longer because I've been waiting for too long Everything I've ever done feels worthless and like a disaster I don't know who will love me when things get bad Because things are bad And the people that I need the most are too far away or too consumed to notice To notice that I'm drowning in a sea of misery and paranoia My breaths have become shorter and my pupils are dilated I gaze into other people's eyes and I see nothing A long time ago, I made a conscious decision to see nothing And now I'm blind But with blindness comes increase sensitivity of my other senses So now my tears fall down my face and they feel like acid on my skin Every whisper falls into... This isn't living This isn't life Because life happens and this is something else This is bigger than me This is something that will still hover over my head when I wake up And it will haunt me till I go to sleep The worst part is that I don't know how to effectively cope With everything life has bestowed upon me So I'm left on the curb Staring at a finish line And I'm paralyzed I'm alone with the thoughts and the voices that brought me to this state of recklessness This state of unrevealed truth and blanketed wounds My feelings aren't gone because I chose to share them Shared they were, but only two people recognized the cry for help I was transparent and found But we're all too lost And I'm too broken to win another battle Weight is on my chest and I'm bitter over someone I have been in a dark place for so long, that I've forgotten what light looks like I want to scream at the top of my lungs and never stop crying I don't think I'll ever stop crying These droplets will forever fall from my grayish irises onto pavement and rocks and nothingness Pain doesn't go away Pain becomes me I am tired and I cannot sleep and I'm afraid of what the future holds Because at moments like this I question the existence of a future "I drank coffee, and read old books, and waited for the year to end" But I've been doing that for 6 years, and I'm tired So I need to be held and helped by someone or something I need to remember what sweetness tastes like And I need to piece together this puzzle called life There are no leaves on the trees Don't mistake it for fall Because the leaves were never there I need to be closer to love than I am right now To love that is requited The love that I've felt before The love that is sweaty palms and mumbled giggles Rhapsodies of savior Someone,save me Help me save myself
Continue reading...
56
"Me too, perchance, in future days, The sculptured stone shall show, With Paphian myrtle or with bays Parnassian on my brow. But I, or e'er that season come, Escaped from every care, Shall reach my refuge in the tomb, And sleep securely there." So sang, in Roman tone and style, The youthful bard, ere long Ordained to grace his native isle With her sublimest song. Who then but must conceive disdain, Hearing the deed unblest, Of wretches who have dared profane His dread sepulchral rest? Ill fare the hands that heaved the stones Where Milton's ashes lay, That trembled not to grasp his bones And steal his dust away! O ill-requited bard! neglect Thy living worth repaid, And blind idolatrous respect As much affronts thee dead.
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1.5k
On The Late Indecent Liberties Taken With The Remains Of Milton
Heart's cover sealed in burgeoning prime Fading leaves folded in the book of time Follicles of love blanched on the pages sublime Billowy blades dulled with eroding sands that modulate and slime Bleached, seamless threads spliced in the deep recesses of my mind Glossy words overgrown, strangled with thistle and thyme Each, dilated syllable devoid of reason and rhyme Each segment underscored with a stagnating byline Every, amorous allusion deconstructed; devoid of design Each, sterile refrain resounds a doleful chime Remaining, truncated edition a lapsing memory; requited pantomime
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Aug 8, 2011
Aug 8, 2011 at 8:00 AM UTC
Leafing Through Love's Primordial Book
i hear the whistle of a mockingjay  play every time someone says your name. a rebel girl in a patriarchal world  defying the absurd iterations of hyper-masculine  oppression that manifest themselves in solipsistic displays of impotent aggression. how do you muster the compassion  to forgive seventy times seven? i want to learn to love like you. the white noise fades away when you and i fly down the interstate. the breeze teases  your hair, the sun kisses your face the way i'd like to. i hope you hear my voice every time one of our favorite songs gets stuck inside your head, singing in time to the rhythms of love requited.  have faith in me. and i'm trying hard— real hard—every day not to lose my temper  with these circumstantial quandaries  that leave us wondering whether or not  we should press pause. instead i'll climb the mountains  of your vertebrae so i might find a resting place in the holiest of holies.  if only i could shrink myself down, dance between the synaptic gaps of your brain cells,  i could see reality through your eyes—  twirling like twin nebulae, galaxies inviting me to endless epiphanies. i want to lose myself in your universe. your courage is infectious. when i hold your hand, i summon the strength to smash the State  and all the arbitrary authorities   trying to dictate the limits of liberty, that instigate injustice and propagate malice. it all just falls away until it's you and me, forever us against them all. you're like Hermione, time-turner included, feeding the homeless,  leading a women's health group, acting for a short film,  directing a play,  writing a novel,  all in a day's work.  and you breathe white-hot fire  when you fight for the disenfranchised  recognizing that those who are neutral  in situations of injustice have chosen the side of the oppressor and it's quite  impressive how you stand-up for the little guy or invite the social acolyte over to your table to have a bite of whatever  vegetarian dish you cooked up last night. i see you on the silver screen, in each new book i read , in every single note i sing, latent remnants in recited rhymes  of poetry from the one and only Bukowski: i found what i love  and i want it to **** me.
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 7:54 AM UTC
mockingjay
i hear the whistle of a mockingjay  play every time someone says your name. a rebel girl in a patriarchal world  defying the absurd iterations of hyper-masculine  oppression that manifest themselves in solipsistic displays of impotent aggression. how do you muster the compassion  to forgive seventy times seven? i want to learn to love like you. the white noise fades away when you and i fly down the interstate. the breeze teases  your hair, the sun kisses your face the way i'd like to. i hope you hear my voice every time one of our favorite songs gets stuck inside your head, singing in time to the rhythms of love requited.  have faith in me. and i'm trying hard— real hard—every day not to lose my temper  with these circumstantial quandaries  that leave us wondering whether or not  we should press pause. instead i'll climb the mountains  of your vertebrae so i might find a resting place in the holiest of holies.  if only i could shrink myself down, dance between the synaptic gaps of your brain cells,  i could see reality through your eyes—  twirling like twin nebulae, galaxies inviting me to endless epiphanies. i want to lose myself in your universe. your courage is infectious. when i hold your hand, i summon the strength to smash the State  and all the arbitrary authorities   trying to dictate the limits of liberty, that instigate injustice and propagate malice. it all just falls away until it's you and me, forever us against them all. you're like Hermione, time-turner included, feeding the homeless,  leading a women's health group, acting for a short film,  directing a play,  writing a novel,  all in a day's work.  and you breathe white-hot fire  when you fight for the disenfranchised  recognizing that those who are neutral  in situations of injustice have chosen the side of the oppressor and it's quite  impressive how you stand-up for the little guy or invite the social acolyte over to your table to have a bite of whatever  vegetarian dish you cooked up last night. i see you on the silver screen, in each new book i read , in every single note i sing, latent remnants in recited rhymes  of poetry from the one and only Bukowski: i found what i love  and i want it to **** me.
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Oh, but please spare my head of necessities of the complexities that are but trivial and non-existential to the pursuit of living and thriving, not in a pool of segregating ridden paper, but in a bath of mentation and minds wide open. And please bite your tongue, when the lick of a serpent dances across your taste buds, when you wish to deprive me that of a young mind and youthful stride. I do not wish to be at one with your negativity, I wish to flee and sprint from your gloomy, pessimistic stint. Rather, I invite you to join me in the pursuit of creativity, to strive to leave your imprint, of sheer, requited positivity. But if you will, without a plee, I wish to help you swing with me on practiced words and the fleet from stability, I wish to take you on a stroll, through and into the soul, of nothing less than a dreamer, of a hoper, of someone so desperately fleeing from the necessities of the complexities.
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Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Necessities of the Complexities
the feelings i have for you are never ending. i attempt time after time to put a definite stop to them, but time after time, they find a way out, and my body is electrified, yet again. i could compare it to being struck with a million bolts of lightning, or being pricked by a thousand rose thorns, but truthfully, nothing compares to you. nothing compares to the way you make me feel, and nothing compares to the sadness i feel on the lonely nights when im thinking of you, and it's not requited.
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Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 10:25 PM UTC
nothing compares