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Kate Dec 2018
I am cold.
But everyone says
You just need to get past my walls,
I am a warm person deep down.
They see what they want to but
I am cold as ice inside.
People will tell you
I have a sensitive side but
Hardly anyone sees.
What I truly am inside,
A heartless monster.
Still, my peers think they know
I am really a big softy.

Now read it bottom to top.
I tried to write this a while ago but ended up just going off on a rant instead so here is my newer version of that poem.
Cassidy Jackson Jul 2017
such a small body
made of sand and paper

frail bones and sticky fingers
with brittle nails and thin hair

such a small body
made of clouds and cloth

shrunken brain and smooth skin
with falling lashes and peeled lips

such a small body
a body made to break
Natosha Ramirez Apr 2018
Verse 1
I didn’t even drink that night, well not a lot.
I’d learned my lesson with that and well,
I trusted him.
Liked him, even. He’d asked me out and I said no,
But I was going to tell him that night that I’d changed my mind.

We’d been together all day,
Just hanging out,
Having a good time.

Always at my expense though
He couldn’t laugh without
Making fun of me.

Chorus
(I didn’t say no.)

Verse 2
He went out of his way to buy me things.
Gave me rides to places,
Went on long walks,
We were such good friends!

We gave each other the cold, hard naked truth.
No questions asked.
I thought I knew quite a bit about how the world worked.
But he said my truth was ****.
That I had no redeeming qualities
That it was all my fault for being in the wrong place
At the wrong time
And I was wrong for wanting someone to love me despite this.

Chorus
(I didn’t say no.)

Verse 3
He came into the room while I was sleeping.
We’d gone into separate rooms on purpose.
Someone believed I cared enough about myself
To choose.

I didn’t have a ride home.
So I stayed.

(Bridge)
And,


I hated it. Every minute of his hands on my body.
I hated the way he smelled, stale beer and trail mix,
His crooked teeth and visible nose hair.
I hated his ability to lose everything that made him “him”
I hated the way HE STOPPED ME! from “adding another notch in my belt”
Because he didn’t want to “be another number”

I was so angry!
He knew my story, knew my life and still...
He was on top of me, and I couldn’t say no.
When he shoved his finger inside of me...I...froze.
All this time had passed with me underneath him with my heart pounding, and I was sure he HEARD me say no but I didn’t SAY no.

When my friend put his face near mine and told me I wanted this to happen, that I owed him for all the favors I thought were mutual,
I cried but not out loud because I had to “finish” to win.
And all I had to do was say no. That's what he said. Just tell me no and I'll stop.
The liar. THE LIAR!

He didn't stop.

And,

When I saw my face in the mirror, my soul broke.

Because I became his beginning and his ending.

I just...stopped existing.

(Chorus)
And,

I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
I didn’t say no.
Repeat x...
A song from my memory.
Tiara I S Mar 6
I feel like a waste of time
My stomach boils with pink pills
Eyelids droop- I pry them open
To drink words I thirst for
Taste worlds I yearn for
Sludge pools in from the bitter thoughts
Soaking soaks- soaking sponges
Run and drain out the membrane
Everything is all too much
I seem to never be good enough
Deadwood Jawn Jan 24
AVOID!
Dismiss.
Ignore.

Destroy it.

Everyone exists
And
Everyone
Has the right
To feel.

I will not be

D
E
N
I
E
D
.

No matter who has it worse.
No matter how long it hurts.
No matter what anyone says.

Feel.
And feel honestly-

DISCORD!
I will not be

D
E
N
I
E
D
.

And all I got left
Is my empathy.

I will not..
Be struck..
Again..

I will build the walls.
I will guard the city.
I will create the shield.

I will resist the poison.
I will dodge the bullet.
I will protect my heart.

I will not be

D
E
N
I
E
D
.
3:27am. I'm a bit hurt hy something. I'm a littke easily hurt lately that's all. But whatever. I'll get over it. No more.. (Partially influenced by Drowning Pool's track: Rise Up)
Mrs Robota Jan 7
"You're adorable"
he smiled
"a lovely person;
very passionate;
caring;
sensitive...
I don't even think I'm complimenting
It's just a truth"
And I don't accept compliments
But because he said it
I'm accepting a truth
Tiara I S Mar 6
bitter honey slipping from my lips
an acquired taste of hyper sensitivity
don't whisper to me any pain
it thunders violently- rupturing my brain
molten eyes capturing 1000 frames
processing what a diseased mind poisons
rose lenses shaken from memories
hung to dry into pungent trauma
Haply but Sweetly, Serene Volumes mix
And Summer's Fornication took its toll
Please don't React. I am not here to fix
Those very Clouds you hard-worked to install
My name is Supporter; Though it sounds strange
To write this Foreword which read too extreme
Trust me this fully; I am well within range
To lend you my Honest and Golden Ring
Indeed Family does matter; Much on Sport
An Athlete like you needs Supplement Prime
This I can assure: They Love you formore
Never to betray your Sensitive Time.
Much grateful am I to scribble this Verse
Now win your Medal; Let Nike converse.
#rachel_bugg
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Where do we meet
    Oh! No He_*
Getting onto
the next courses
Oh La- La "Cheri"
K>ANSAS>>City

_ Prime spot pretty

 let's >- jump ))) To Love
Please raise the horses

What a skirt steak in her
Petticoat Junction
Going to Kansas City affection
Different tribe or breed
What needs to love me
tender Elvis meet Beavis Buthead
    More  T.L.C  
computer DOC Tick Tock
IRS taking a meat beef
chunk is everybody drunk
IOS what is really the meat
Business Politician Trump

Subscribe well done
Cooked or rare spooked
Taking a Spin City kick
She got canned and licked
The prime meat hot seat

The ******* who arrives
first class steak knifes
Ms. Pork hard chew 
Mr. Beans second rate
Dark pumpernickel
Saloon *******, he
is eating
The young tender
chicken leg

High five thigh? Hands
up Robin Fly
Save the meat "let it be"
  "Let it Be" Beatles
The beat Colonel deep fried
Grade A rare meat slicing

Eating in a board meeting
The pig meat market
of pricing

Doe a deer
he loves
International beer
A very sensitive time
Slaughterhouse no way out
His poker face meets
potato heads beef jerky
Surrender Weds
maple smiles picky
The rich Syrup
Disney Mickey Mouse
Kansas City Wonder
meat house

The beauty of animals
"Moms kettle she is talking
to Parrots" meat
the market for rings riot
Six enemies making
6 rounds
Six servants 666 carats
Robin smiles heartily
"Campbells Chicken" little


He's the Beef Man stew
If you only knew

He's spitting tobacco chew
She peels the potato for the
meathead bad to the
T-bone Dachshund I Bone

Garlic knots heart of the
Sausage wearing the
meat corsage Superbowl
My sweet basil good soul
Grilling your bullhead
Pirate Ribeye steak pupils
Mr. "Billygoat" Bachelorette
Hair flat crepe Suzette

Moms Korean style fuss
coleslaw
what a seesaw
Playing Porgy and Bess
 Scarlet the red rare meat
Rolling stone baking pin
Mississippi one or two
Under my meaty thumb

Comes in three-4-5-6- Lucky 7
-Crazy 8 furries
Nine meat ribs-10 babies
with bibs
Hungry Man meat when!!
Country plaid tablecloth
"Kansas Men" of the cloth
The Pig approval
Kansas City Mayor
new arrival

Family together eating
Don't eat our animals
Why is life so unfair
Feeding the poor
with cans
The bad cut of meat devil
this is not the "Grade A"
This is not a ring
circus trainer Bullseye

Robin coffee animal-friendly
Two peas in a pod I pods
  I tune like Gods
Were the luckiest people to have
animals  

The Floridian with dog murals
Palm trees green thumb
plants sunshine events
The symphony dog tails
of hunts
Whats to compare her twilight
eyes hold the moment stare
Talk to the animal's hearts care
The barbecue all the meat men and the women who love their fruit listen to the Owl lady how she hoots those Kansas city slicker boots and the Hehaw have a good time with family and friends treat the animals with tender loving care
Paul Hansford Aug 2018
The first cold letters, alone on the page.
A quick pencil found them,
and the lively and beautiful syllables blossomed.
The pale book felt the pencil,
and the terrifying, hot words entered.
The lines grew, living and sensitive,
gleaming as never before,
and I knew the unheard lines!

First, a tiny and unselfconscious sound.
A noun struggled to appear among overpowering words.
A strong, golden adjective ran out,
a short, fragrant adjective, beautiful in the early spring.
A young verb grew among tiny blue conjunctions,
and a fortuitous adverb understood, instinctively.

The first sentence dreamed of trees, and a sad cloud.
It dreamed a grey rain,
and the tall trees felt the rain.
There was a first and unknown river,
imagined, inconsequential, like snow in summer.
A red bird glided beyond reach,
as if it had never happened.
The soft sounds fitted the lines,
and the quick bird cried,
Remember the short rain!
Remember the sad poem!
This one was a "collaboration" between myself and an app that I imported to my computer. First I entered lists of nouns, adjectives and adverbs (including adverbial phrases), then clicked to start the process.  The computer didn't "compose" the lines that you see here, but it gave me lots of ideas, and I had to work quite a lot on them. Streams of sentences poured out onto my printer, most of them complete nonsense, and when I had enough I pressed Stop, and started the process of weeding out the *******, editing the more promising lines, and re-arranging the order. My favourite line is "There was a first and unknown river," which I could never have dreamed up by myself.
Tiara I S Mar 5
Senseless bubble erase the fears
Mundane life pulls at heartstrings taut
Carving ridges and trenches of pain
Back beaten concerns and worries
Never fully flush from my flesh
Excitement bursting and dissolving
Like acid into everyone's apathetic ears
Long limbs elaborating tales that could
Otherwise simply suspend with sentences
Splashes of distaste scald at my face
Burrowing deeply into my deep diseases
I'm thousands of degrees to cold eyes
Yet I burn within their icy glares of uncare
Every nerve twitches while others' tingle
Soft happiness blooms into blissful days
Torn by how I feel all too much yet am not enough
Lizzy Dec 2014
The tests say 98% neurotic.
The doctor says I'm just passionate.
My parents say I'm too sensitive.
Lovers say I'm too clingy.
I say I'm just ******* crazy.

I feel everything so deeply.
Love is so instense.
Fear is crippling.
Pain is paralyzing.
Joy is euphoria.

Maybe I'm too passionate,
Or emotional,
Or sensitive,
Or whatever.
But I know one thing,
That I'm deeply,
Madly,
Cripplingly,
And euphorically,
In love with you.
Evelin Avely Jan 30
I sense a lot;
my saturated feelings
consume me, eat me,
clench my heart,
and softly pet it

as though it purrs for me to move,
to breath, to keep existing,
when no existence is enough
for me to feel alive
and present.
Two come in a pair
I think I'd wager both have your own legs
Even though sometimes the day
Fills ya both with rage
And you both have different
Ways you read the same page
One doesn't eat meat
And the other likes legs
Always on the go
Never on late
"I've got all my **** done"
While you still playin games
But that's okay, that's okay
You don't always bicker
And he just wants the liquor
When the boys are around
And she just wants
A quad shot espresso
Latte macchiato
Cause in the morning
Feels like the sun going down
Just like
The sensitive heart
Well protected
All around
With the strong ribs cage
Do the same

Do the same
Build the line
Armour with walls
Silence the soul
Stay afar
Stay virtuous

Gypsy impulses
Will collide, most often
The right one
Holds the key
Access naturally
Uninterrupt

Welcome that
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Remember who you are | Examined Life
Author's Note: Whom to keep distance whom to get close, your kind knows all.
Are you willing to get drained ?
Not in this lifetime.
Christian Ek Aug 2014
Tender touching on creamy silky skin.
Hearts pounding like jackhammers.
Sweat dripping, warm rain.
Sheets melting.
70,80,90,100 degrees celsius!!!
Pulses rising,voices rising, music rising.
White rose moving down your spine tingling your sensitive senses.
Oh how you sing my name, I hope this song never ends.
Loss of air, loss of sense of self, two bodies in one.
Rose pedals broken under two lovers forms.
Waking up in a rose garden to the sound of your voice.
Robert G Page Aug 2013
By
rgpage

The cool evening breeze filled with a scent of approaching rain.
Caught by playful window shears
as it passes through an open pane, to reach their  
length and breadth toward the waiting bed.

He was a lover of music and his woman,
a passionate man with a sensitive heart.
She was in love with the melodic way  
his gentle fingers moved with sensual touch
over her soft silk like skin of art.

He started gently around her ears softly prying
them open with the quiet richness of her melodies.
Each note of his gentle kisses leading her to a sensual abyss,
easing her down from the edge, controlling her descent, to her goal.
Down the swirling dark and light blends of the music rendered from her soul.

She was his instrument on which he placed
his soft loving fingers, moving them effortlessly,
caressing her most sensual delicate keys…Each body part
smoothly rubbed added richness to her sensual sound driven by lust
and loving trust.  

Her ******* he fondled, licking and kissing, squeezing and rubbing.
Silently giving thanks, to her creator for such an amazing instrument.
Both of her hands with long slender fingers tangled in the long dark locks
of his hair as she eases her maestro’s head up tighter against her soft
beautiful mounds.

The loving melody continues with his touch now joined with the sound
of raindrops splashing into uncovered metal buckets and cans. The drops
carried on the breeze through the playful dancing shears came through the other end as nothing more than refreshing cooling mist.

Her body was his loving piano, and as with the 88 keys of his magnificent
Baldwin, the sensual areas of her equally magnificent body, when properly stroked,  filled not  only the bedroom but the whole house with the most glorious ****** notes known to man.  

After a while the symphonic ****** builds as he masterfully impales her with his instrument of love coming into constant contact with the one special key of keys. Its special sound as his strokes came harder and faster brought the whole master piece to a beautiful melodic end as the two lovers bath in the rain’s gentle mist…
King Panda Feb 2016
I’ll have you know that this started out
as a love poem
but then I got lazy
and distracted when the dog started biting my leg
and I decided that this process wasn’t
worth it all together
and went outside for a smoke

that’s when I tried to call you
but you didn’t answer
I guess it’s Valentine’s Day
and you’re probably
with some other guy who’s more
sensitive than me
but can he smoke as **** as me?
or cough as loud?
or breathe as heavy?
well probably ******* not
and maybe that’s a good thing
that he’s healthy
and doesn’t smell like the inside of a Texas Roadhouse
before they decided that smoking killed everyone
and no one could do it there
no
not even the good looking people

you always said I was good looking
well
above average
and I cooked good too
and that one Valentine’s Day you said
If you asked me to marry you right now, I’d say yes
that was after I killed the bat in the attic
bought you a bouquet of bleeding hearts and
brought home the puppy
since then
my typewriter has busted
and you have left
P.S.
I still have the dog and
I renamed him Juniper
because that’s what happens when you’re
drunk
and sad
and alone

but now I’m happy
smoking a cigarette
listening to my neighbor’s massive wind chime
conk and sway in the crosswind
and I feel as alive as ever
knowing that you’re
wiping off that red lipstick with a poem I wrote you
because your date just got done
and he’s not sleeping over
and you’re just about to
walk to the back patio
and smoke a cigarette
because you want to die
just as bad as I do
P E Kaplan Feb 2014
They will meet again,
the sensitive, weary, nervous,
daughter and her mother the same.

They will meet again,
to talk, to listen, to sidestep the usual
misperception, misinterpretation, miscommunication.

They will meet again,
and acknowledge their identical desire to be understood
forgiven, accepted without judgement.

They will meet again,
their tender, hearts, needing a gentle reminder;
knowing they must never, ever, give up on Love.
Dan Filcek Apr 2015
consciousness conceived as complex matrices
patterns contained within patterns.
magnetic anomaly brainwave synchronization
unrecognized vortex activity locations.
correlation amplification phenomena resonance.
measurable parameter brain wave activity
highly sensitive field fluctuations.
transducer low frequency geomagnetic pulsations
electromagnetic patterns: their associated chemical changes.
Weak intensity complex magnetic fields
generated earth hum technology affect
flux-gate sample collapsing fields
amplifier filter stages couples into analog digital converter.
experiments correlating local geophysical anomalies
earth's magnetic field changes consciousness.
single electromagnetic coupling mechanism
including spin-mediated neurons.
upsurge solar activity alters brain rhythms, hormonal levels
healing nature mystic experiences
anomalous cognition ******-physical phenomena.
internal model reality - subjective consciousness
addition computational capacity
existential status may need exotic physics
quantum entanglement and new forms of physical interaction
magnetic sensory cells induced meditative states
direct correlation shifts magnetic flux.
No active effort required.
Magnetic mineral aligned crystal chains
embedded biological membranes.
atomic sublattices of ferrimagnetic material
plausible theoretical mechanisms
mechanosensitive membrane ion gates
specific synergetic properties for transduction.
cuboctahedral morphology properties
jitterbugging vector equilibrium matrix basis tensegrity.
basic geometrical biological building blocks.
mystical red rock temples
Tracing disjunctive dislocations
Mother Earth speaks
Questions remain.
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. source - https://jcer.com/index.php/jcj/article/viewFile/318/343 - The Sedona Effect
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