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Jack Thompson Mar 2015
Have you ever been angry?
So angry you've scared yourself.
Because for a second you saw that face staring back from within.
An immense depth fast approaching.
So absent of light the only reason you caught a glimpse was those eyes.
Beaming back at you with illumination so frightening your core began to shudder and rumble.

Crumbled down and watched this beast claw its way out.
Over rock and mortar. Through coarse cage of steel.
Those cold eyes staring down - helplessly watching.

This beast was once kept sealed.
Who gave it this key to destruction.
This shapeless fluid in motion soulless tragedy.
Black velvet drape dipped in fiery energy.
Pure hate which had been compressed for eternity.
Now concentrated and intent on wreaking havoc.

I sent my armies. I sent them all.
Countless deaths and yet I sent more.
Quick slaughter - not the painless type.
This beast they could not stall.
Thrashes of bodies. Clawed and torn.
Festering flesh flying from fallen.
Axe, Sword and Mace soaked,
dripping in warm fresh blood-pounding hate.
Shatters of armor and unrecognizable corpses.
What do I do?
It seeks me as a vessel - to be worn.
I can feel the hate changing me.
Quickly now or I'll soon deform.
© All Rights Reserved Jack Thompson 2015
A Henslo Nov 2017
Lying under the acorn tree
We indulged each other's company
Hours of playing catch and kiss
Imagining years of happiness
Eternal enchantment, you and me

When you left, the other day
Was it love that made me claim
You never would be happy again?
What laws of nature must we obey?
Do lizards and butterflies really play?
Inspired by a Royal Delft cloisonné wall tile
Carter Ginter Jan 2015
When you said we were done
I initially was angry because
I wanted to hate you so badly
But I only loved you.

A few days later,
I realize that, though I do love you
more than anything,
A part of me also resents you.
And maybe my anger was not,
In fact, because I couldn't hate you,
But because I knew a part of me does
And all I want to do is love you.

The last time you asked if I hated you for ending it;
I couldn't, because I understood.
But this time, you didn't ask
You didn't care
And I'm not sorry that I wasn't good enough,
Because you're the one who couldn't
Handle the distance.
Let your cravings and desires
Override a love
To where you couldn't feel it anymore.

I wish I could understand,
But I can't.
And I resent you for hurting me this way.
At least before I knew you still loved me,
Now I couldn't even tell you liked me.

Enjoy your freedom and experience
While I'm trapped as a prisoner
To my own mind.
The dreams of you continue and
Waking up hurts more than I can explain.
But I love you.
And, unfortunately, that will never change.
Abbigail Aug 2017
I often wonder if there are ghosts
that watch me
as I reach out to the other side of the bed,
and whisper things,
pretending you're still there

Sometimes I play a game in my head
where I hit the play button on my life
and you have no choice but to watch from wherever you are
as I surround myself with things
I know would make you miss me

Do you ever think that when you dream of someone,
they can feel it
and maybe they wake up remembering you somehow?

I doubt you could stand waking up
with my name in your mouth each morning
Not when you've earned the right to forget it

Love and hate are independent sentiments
but somehow with you they're interchangeable

I've read somewhere about the science behind our memories,
how they paint a pretty picture
of a person we can no longer have,
but underneath all the layers of thick paint are the realities;
the uncertainty,
the mean streaks,
the resentment,
all in ***** splashes of muddy brown and red

The problem is that
I've been scrubbing at your painting in my head
until my hands go numb
and I still only see all my favorite colors
Carter Ginter Mar 2018
I know I've been a ***** lately
And you're definitely not used to that
And even if I'm angry at you
I know you don't deserve it

You told me not to push you away
Because I'd rather get wasted than tell you how I feel
Because this **** is killing me
But if I tell you that
Nothing will change

So why would I tell you that this is the most pain I've ever felt?
Why would I tell you how much I hate this whole thing?
Why would I say that I'm fighting all my instincts to run?
Because you know I won't
Because I love you
And leaving would hurt just as bad as this

And why would I tell you I don't want you to have a third partner?
Although you kind of already do
And even staining those words on this screen
Makes me want to ******* die

We're supposed to work through ****
But what if I can't?
I know we've all felt this way
But we are not the same
You and they cried about it
So did I
A few times
But now I'm just angry and resentful
And I feel nothing aside from that
Except the urge to hurt myself

Why would I tell you that hanging out doesn't help me?
It really doesn't change anything
Because even when we're together
I accidentally see her name across your phone screen
You mention her in a story
And my insides implode and I
to leave

But we were in a group
And I didn't want to answer any questions
Because these thoughts feel juvenile
And my aggression that's normally hidden
Tucked deep inside where no one else can see it
Is starting to break free
And I don't know what that means

When I'm at work I want to die
But when I go home I feel the exact same
And if you had came over today
I knew it was out of pity
And I don't need that ****
You cannot fix me
Nothing helps this

I feel ******* useless
I feel replaceable
I feel angry and aggressive (because I am)
And I feel invisible
I feel like I don't matter at all
And what I feel means absolutely nothing
Because you'll do whatever you want
And even though I say that's fine
I'm ******* suffocating
And I really don't know if I can hold my breathe much longer
Before I lose myself
And leave
This is from a few days ago, I feel a little better now. Any progress is worth acknowledging
S Bharat Apr 12
The Roses

O, the Flowers lying
On the bed!
Never blame the Roses
That rise far afield and fade.
For they never lose
Their grace
Like the Flowers wilted
In the vase.

S. Bharat
Reggine Sumiyama Sep 2018
Here I scatter the ashes of our Wednesdays
and throw dirt on our names because we fell into a stupor of unsaid goodbyes and insincere apologies.

I take my time trying to unclench my fist,
after all, release is only sweet when you feel suffocated.

I always made sure to adjust my grasp to your comfort,
present my entirety as if you owned more than a half of what I used to be.
I remember you in things that have no heartbeat, but a pulse of regret and anger that devours it, and to think you swore you would keep me alive.

In Binondo, you taught me how to eat street foods, walk in the crowded places, sit still on taxi rides,
and feel beautiful even when you kept your eyes off me.
You believed in slow motion, and the magic of lugaw at 12AM,
I watched you in a fascinated haze.
Too unsure of the light.

In Fairview, I told you that I cry during movies and laughed at the way you spun me around in the theater. Hand on my waist for good measure. I showed you claw machines and photobooths,
at least remember me.
I held your hand the first time, bled on
a piece of paper you read on the way to Quiapo, and all the long rides have made me feel empty ever since.

In Ilocos, I gave you a warm kisses on your cheeks when you took me
to church the first time, head spun just at the right angle for when
I walk down the aisle in a dress with you waiting at the end of it,
not knowing that in 4 years, I’d come back at someone
else’s wedding, begging on my knees at silent altars to keep you
even with my faith hanging from my fingertips. You still left.

In Intramuros, I see you in every nook and crevice,
in the holes, in the walls with Lechon Kawali, in quiet places we
claimed are for ourselves. In street vendors, ATM machines,
and pedestrian lanes too dangerous to walk on. Nowadays,
I shut my eyes in the backseat, afraid to see a shadow of who
I thought you were whenever I am near.

In Pasay there are people to see and places to walk
through to cover the tracks of almost lovers, a pair of shoes
to buy, impatience on my throat, and kisses on cheek as a cure
for my silence and satiation for the hunger below your navel.

In EDSA, we locked more than just lips, ate street Palitaw,
knocked three times on wooden doors, even lit candles to be sure,
that we would keep each other for good. Someone must have
knocked harder, the wind must have swept our fire out,
and we were fools to think promises were as simple as padlocks
that rust and break in the rain. How I never told you that I pictured
us in a million other bus rides that night. The road could never
have been shorter than the infinite one you promised.

In Pandacan, you wanted a life with me  
with nights in bed, the sickening kind of happiness harrowing
the peace we always knew we had. You held me close
and by the early hours of the morning you swore you’d meet me
again when the clock strikes twelve on a different year. I think
you left your love for me in that two-bedroom suite, and
wouldn’t it be wise if I left mine right next to yours, folded
and hung before the stain of resentment covered it whole?

In between the hurt and madness, memories of us
unfolding without grace on the table, I loved you.

You knew what you were doing when you let go of me to hold
onto someone else that was never as sure as I was of you,
and I wake up in sweat at 3AM thinking I never really knew.

Now we are in places we’ve never been, and I dry
swallow the hurt that swells even when I no longer touch it.
There are spaces I no longer need to be filled because I got used to being hollow
even when I was next to you
and now that I don’t have to be there anymore
it makes it easier to forget you ever happened, and I will tiptoe my way out of these places until I no longer feel you everywhere.
Em MacKenzie Apr 21
I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I haven’t known healing, maybe one day I’ll begin,
instead I’ll drown in feeling even though the water left is thin.

So take your worn out excuses
and your words that hold no weight.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting fuses,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
a blaze burning great.

Don’t mind the crying, and pay no mind to the ties,
I know when you’re lying before you even realize they’re lies.
Now a picture has been painted of a world with only one pair of footprints,
a reference that’s been tainted and shaded by the darkest tints.

So change your act just like your handles,
and there’s no morality to debate.
I’ll be striking matches and lighting candles,
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
but I’ll still have to wait.

This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
or maybe from Hell,
who can tell, anymore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
it didn’t bleed or swell,
but you know, that it’s sore.
This dent in my shell;
another scar from a war
this one is my death knell,
it shattered me down to the core.

I’ve had my heart broken so many times,
that I’m depleted of metaphors and running out of rhymes.

I took my nails and buried them deep in my skin,
created paths and trails just to let me back in.
I’m growing too old each day to never gain a win,
but you know they say nothing gold can stay, maybe next time I’ll stick with tin.

‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
it’s our defined trait and state.
‘cause a fire sign only knows one fate;
cremate and annihilate.
M Salinger Jul 2018
Be kind to yourself,
as you are with others

You have these
grand expectations
of yourself
and at times,
those around you

It's good to have goals
and a hunger for
but you must also be
to keep them realistic

Because, while you are indeed
fierce & strong-willed,
you are also soft
& at times

You are human.

But that doesn't mean
you are without

Your sensitivity is your greatest gift,
but without care,
can also be your greatest

You must learn to master your craft.

This means to be
patient with yourself
as you would with others,
to show compassion
as you would with others,
to show love,
& humility,
to yourself

This in practice,
is to truly understand,
& epitomise,
that self-care
is not

That it is okay to say no,
or to ask for help,
or to be truly

To embrace the lows,
for making the highs even

To acknowledge
that fear is
the root cause
of bitterness
& resentment

To let the good wash
over you
the same as
the bad,
& embrace the micro changes,
as the meta
stays the same

To believe you are worthy,
of a great love,
the same as you believe
worthy of

To embody the idiom
that one can
truly love another,
they learn to love
& thus allow yourself
the hard-earned
of grounded, stable

To know the difference between
& advice,
& lust,
& partnerships

To have
that you will find your way,
because you will;
because you live your life
with generosity
& authenticity

This is my vision for you,
that you will
make this your reality.
If you ask me, he lit the match that set the Moon on fire
It’s not a myth; I was there, when I had no home
And I walked in Saturn’s ring rain for so long it sloughed off my skin
I marched, trying to flatten the crater I’d made
Because I was ashamed of it
I was the last meteor to hit his heart; the loudest
But that was so long ago
The quietest revolutions are usually the most violent
If you ask him, I smelled like Genesis and Revelation from the inside
******* insatiable
I slathered honey on my cheeks and boiled my blood
so hot until my arteries turned charred black
I licked my wounds from the impact and discovered just what the hell was poisoning me

If you ask me, I didn’t know him last night and I won’t know him on the last night
But my God, he inspires me
ThatBrokenOne Jan 25
There hasn't been a day gone by
Without a thought of you
Every day again
Every hour again

There hasn't been a day gone by
Without a thought of the past
What we did
What we wanted

There hasn't been a day gone by
Without a thought of the here and now
How much I hate it
How much I resent it

There hasn't been a day gone by
Without a thought of the future
What it would have looked like
What we would have done

There hasn't been a day gone by
Without my mind being ****** up
Every day again, I torture my self
Every ******* day again, I wish I could travel back in time
Matt Shaw Apr 11
Break me,
Break me open,
Show I'm wrong
Show me I'm just another
Tell me I'm a silly man
Another lost boy
Tell me you don't care,
Pass me on by.

Age me,
Add the layers
On thick
Make it hard to
See straight
Make it hard to
Keep walking on
Be my master
Show me up,
Toss me on a wind.
Amaris Sep 2018
Mom and Dad, I really have to thank you
After all, I did learn a lot over the years
Like how nothing you told me was true
And that you caused all of my fears

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words should never hurt me
I wasn't hit, nothing was thrown
You just made me feel like I was crazy

Do you know what you did was wrong?
Your expectations, consequences, all flawed
I try to channel my resentment into song
But you miss the point and just applaud
annh Jan 3
I taste sweet nectar
each night I sleep without you

Without your resentment
clawing at the fabric of my dreams

Without my regret
seeding your subconscious with self-doubt

I taste sweet nectar
every night I spend with you
forgiven and forgiving
Cindra Carr Jun 2011
Eighteen misses and three survivors
Two broken marriages with one spiteful lost love
Two warring sisters and too many brothers
Numbers don’t always make the lives of another
Crocheted angels and heartfelt hugs
Gone are the days of each of those
Responsible, avoidant, and spoiled
Resentment, confusion, and miscommunication
Ghosts of the past
Harried, busy, and distant
Buy back the time
Patience, hope, and acceptance
Crowding the cast
Three lives play out creating six more
One life still here caught in time
One life locked in with ghosts of the past

Can I suggest self reflection?

Because you're lost; in a constant battle

With yourself

And it's been so long
Resentment latches on to the first tic

With a painful hold

Because resentment isn't beautiful

Its monstrous

With razors and thorns protruding from its skin

And you're not safe
Because you take most of the damage

And the longer you hold on,
The uglier

I see gashes on your skin
I watch you lick the wounds

But for what

They're layers

You are so desperately trying to heal a surface

And you think it's okay

this is me
this is how I do things
I'm strong

You're not strong.
You're safe.

Or you imagine

Because harm still reaches you

And you have scars to prove it
I see.
DYN Jan 26
Perhaps he’d write about his heroine ?
The one he sketches in his stories
Split between being a spectator, or a participant
His mind is dark, void of sentiment
Is that a lie he tells himself ?
May be or may be not

A loveless soul he says, yet his heart seems to yearn for affection
Mouth saying something, but
Expression and actions betray thy lips
What made you so cold ?
Why do you feel so undeserving?
You’re perplexed because even you can’t answer this

Slowly he builds a monster he seems unable to tame
Briskly this costume he has designed fits to skin perfectly
A villain he has become ; this time it isn’t fiction
Would his heroine become a reality?
Do I really need heroine in this story, he says
May be or may be not
Osiria Melody Mar 22
I. outcast frenzy
she hides in her shadow persona:
that makes her feel ****** and *****,
that welcomes Death too soon,
that forces her to be straight, straight,
the mold that shapes her broken form.

II. courage to roar
my sweetness in my bitter days:
she's a rainbow of colorful emotions,
she flashes lemonade smiles,
she erects walls of resentment,
hisses at the homophobic snakes.

III. blissful liberation
my hope in my sandcastle of despair:
she's a victory in all of my defeats,
she attacks the demons in her mind,
she reconstructs her walls into ladders,
climbs out the **** closet because
she's proud to be ***!

-to my baby sunshine

I'm so proud of my cousin's daughter for coming out as a lesbian to me; I'll always love and accept her.
annh Jan 8
I taste sweet nectar
each night I sleep without you
clawing at the fabric of my dreams
seeding my subconscious with self-doubt

Mr Resentment and Mrs Regret
my erstwhile lovers
one, cajoling and seductive
the other, spooning and insistent
together, sleep-deprived and unsated
we made for a corrupt ménage à trois

I taste sweet nectar
every night I spend with you
my new bedfellow
Ms Forgiveness
Yes - this is a rewrite of 'The Flavour of Forgiveness' and shares some identical lines. The message is similar but less about 'sharing' forgiveness with another and more about the addictive nature of negative self-/talk and spirals of discontent.
Frank Blachn Aug 2018
"listen you *******, you ***** heads"

theres only one cure for me
and its something i will never have
and it kills me because i know i wont have it.

not brother love
or mother love
or papa love
or friend love,

but love
the type i can worship

we belong to each other

is it love?
or is it obsession?

i need
the warm embrace of a movie night
the warm embrace of a shared blanket on the couch
the warm embrace of a shared dinner
                    a shared moment of eye contact

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