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"sorrys" poems
Dear father, I still remember the last time I saw you It's funny, because you looked just the same as you always did Like someone Who was never really mine. Like a stranger in disguise Who's reality only exists When I close my eyes and fantasize about you being in my life But I guess When you heard you should live your life without Regret You mistook that for my name And I wonder if you will ever understand the pain Of knowing someone only when you imagine them Or loving someone who thought Never talk to strangers Was a lesson best learnt by example But they say actions speak louder than words And you became so consumed by your own self worth to really give a **** about who you hurt So you became the expert At manipulating words Like turning I love yous into sorrys And Tomorrows into yesterdays Until it was safe to say I couldn't count on you Dear father, Because of you I constantly found myself falling in love with things that could never love me back I became infatuated with sandcastle and snowflakes Addicted to temporary moments Addicted to broken Thought if I learnt to fix things Then somehow I might find the manuscript To piecing the shattered part of my being whole again Because of you I spent years trying to cover this skin that you left me with Tried decorating these scars With tattooed hopes To remind myself That sometimes Some things Were made to last forever Because of you, For years I avoided looking into the mirror Because I never truly knew If you could love someone You only ever met in passing You see I mistook your ***** for water I never realised I was internally drowning in your poison I thought I needed you to stay afloat It took me a long time to realise That ***** was just your way of relieving yourself from blame You became a box full of things I packed away the day you left But I've stopped trying to hold on to your burden So I've taken out my smile And I'll wear it with pride And Dear father, Did you know That if you repeat a word enough times Then eventually the word will start to lose it's meaning? And I've stopped wishing I was still young enough to understand What the word father meant And now no know That if I ever see you again Then you will look just the same as you always did Like someone who doesn't deserve to be mine
0
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC
Dear Father
Dear father, I still remember the last time I saw you It's funny, because you looked just the same as you always did Like someone Who was never really mine. Like a stranger in disguise Who's reality only exists When I close my eyes and fantasize about you being in my life But I guess When you heard you should live your life without Regret You mistook that for my name And I wonder if you will ever understand the pain Of knowing someone only when you imagine them Or loving someone who thought Never talk to strangers Was a lesson best learnt by example But they say actions speak louder than words And you became so consumed by your own self worth to really give a **** about who you hurt So you became the expert At manipulating words Like turning I love yous into sorrys And Tomorrows into yesterdays Until it was safe to say I couldn't count on you Dear father, Because of you I constantly found myself falling in love with things that could never love me back I became infatuated with sandcastle and snowflakes Addicted to temporary moments Addicted to broken Thought if I learnt to fix things Then somehow I might find the manuscript To piecing the shattered part of my being whole again Because of you I spent years trying to cover this skin that you left me with Tried decorating these scars With tattooed hopes To remind myself That sometimes Some things Were made to last forever Because of you, For years I avoided looking into the mirror Because I never truly knew If you could love someone You only ever met in passing You see I mistook your ***** for water I never realised I was internally drowning in your poison I thought I needed you to stay afloat It took me a long time to realise That ***** was just your way of relieving yourself from blame You became a box full of things I packed away the day you left But I've stopped trying to hold on to your burden So I've taken out my smile And I'll wear it with pride And Dear father, Did you know That if you repeat a word enough times Then eventually the word will start to lose it's meaning? And I've stopped wishing I was still young enough to understand What the word father meant And now no know That if I ever see you again Then you will look just the same as you always did Like someone who doesn't deserve to be mine
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71
Some people say life is a game, like Monopoly, but for most of us, our lives are sorry. Sorry you've been abandoned, sorry i can’t see you any more, I’m so sorry for your loss. Sorry, sorry, sorry is as sorry does. Sorry’s mean they didn't love you, he didn't care, and we couldn't save her. Sorry's **** Sometimes sorrys feel good but most of the time they feel like crap. Sorry's mean guys are jerks, people hate me, and I. HAVE. NO. FRIENDS. Sorry, sorry, sorry, say it three times over a wound and it won’t make it heal, it’s just a five letter word, but it's a four letter word to me, it doesn't do anything. It doesn't heal scars, or take back the words, or take the razor blades that end peoples lives from their shaking hands as they draw their last breath. Sorry, sorry, sorry, it doesn't make life any better, it doesn't make it right.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
Sorry...
I got out of bed with a bit of uneasiness, I decided that it's been too long since I've written.. I think the last time I did was last week ...or the week before ? I looked at the date, and make me twitch, Made a tear, or two fall Made my heart break in a few more pieces. DID YOU KNOW THAT IT'S BEEN A MONTH SINCE WE MET ? Figuratively that is .. DID YOU KNOW, that you've broken me into minute pieces ?? Pieces unable to be detected by microscopes ?? Pieces that can't be felt or touched with your naked hand? DID YOU KNOW ? No you don't. You've been too busy missing her every second, like you did with me. Been too busy upset with her, like you were with me. Been too busy telling her how much you like her like you did with me. HECK, YOU'VE BEEN TOO BUSY WORSHIPPING HER ANGELIC FACE, LIKE YOU DID WITH ME ! YOU'VE BEEN TOO BUSY BEGGING HER, TO SEE HER FULL BODY, LIKE YOU DID WITH ME ! YOU'VE BEEN TOO BUSY telling her of your childhood, and how you missed your dad ..too busy telling her how suicidal you were, and how placed a gun to your head. And you're probably too busy, telling her of me. YOU'VE BEEN TOO BUSY, SITTING, FORMULATING THE LIES YOU'LL TELL ME NEXT, AS TO WHY YOU'VE HAD NO TIME FOR ME : "I was helping my mom with the Christmas tree" "Someone was using my phone" "Sorry I was sleeping" - (WAIT DIDN'T YOU SPEND NIGHTS UP WITH ME TELLING ME YOU HAVE INSOMNIA ? ) "Sorry I was out" "Sorry I was on a call" . AND I DON'T CARE IF THEY'RE TRUE, I DON'T CARE IF I'M EMOTIONAL BUT THAT'S TOO MUCH 'I'M SORRYS' . TOO MUCH EXCUSES, TOO MUCH LIES. And I'm sorry that I made a mistake and liked you so much. I'm sorry for letting you taking up my phone space, With pictures of you that an artist would find hard to formulate. Sorry you were my screensaver. Sorry I told my sister about you ..yeah I told her how adorable you were And I told her you were my ''soon to be boyfriend" ... And I'm sorry that I pushed another into the fire because of you Yeah I'm sorry I pushed him aside. But karma's a ***** and I knew it would get me, I told you it would AND I TOLD YOU IN THE END I'D BE HURT, and you told me no, and I would be. Darling being replaced doesn't bother me, it doesn't make my bones crack, It doesn't make my heart cry .. It's the mixed signals. Today you're all flirty with me, tomorrow you're calling me names. WHY DON'T YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIND ?! I know you no longer need be, and to be honest you never did, So be honest with me and let me leave you alone ?? I'm also sorry for listening to your lies. I should've known though, by the signs you gave, "Let's be friends with benefits?" FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS WHEN I WAS HOPING WE'D GO SOMEWHERE ?? F.W.B, WHEN I WAS HOPING WE'D BE TOGETHER ONE DAY ? F.W.B, WHEN YOU SAID YOU LIKED ME MORE THAN YOU SHOULD'VE ?? Special to be used then thrown aside ? What did you want ? A piece of me ? I should've have know when you said I was special, after I said you were my "soon to be boyfriend " And I'm sorry you'll never get to see this. But I hope you suffer from your mistakes And rot in the arms of any other you come across, Because no one will EVER adore you like I DID.
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Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 5:48 AM UTC
NO ONE WILL EVER ADORE YOU LIKE I DID
I got out of bed with a bit of uneasiness, I decided that it's been too long since I've written.. I think the last time I did was last week ...or the week before ? I looked at the date, and make me twitch, Made a tear, or two fall Made my heart break in a few more pieces. DID YOU KNOW THAT IT'S BEEN A MONTH SINCE WE MET ? Figuratively that is .. DID YOU KNOW, that you've broken me into minute pieces ?? Pieces unable to be detected by microscopes ?? Pieces that can't be felt or touched with your naked hand? DID YOU KNOW ? No you don't. You've been too busy missing her every second, like you did with me. Been too busy upset with her, like you were with me. Been too busy telling her how much you like her like you did with me. HECK, YOU'VE BEEN TOO BUSY WORSHIPPING HER ANGELIC FACE, LIKE YOU DID WITH ME ! YOU'VE BEEN TOO BUSY BEGGING HER, TO SEE HER FULL BODY, LIKE YOU DID WITH ME ! YOU'VE BEEN TOO BUSY telling her of your childhood, and how you missed your dad ..too busy telling her how suicidal you were, and how placed a gun to your head. And you're probably too busy, telling her of me. YOU'VE BEEN TOO BUSY, SITTING, FORMULATING THE LIES YOU'LL TELL ME NEXT, AS TO WHY YOU'VE HAD NO TIME FOR ME : "I was helping my mom with the Christmas tree" "Someone was using my phone" "Sorry I was sleeping" - (WAIT DIDN'T YOU SPEND NIGHTS UP WITH ME TELLING ME YOU HAVE INSOMNIA ? ) "Sorry I was out" "Sorry I was on a call" . AND I DON'T CARE IF THEY'RE TRUE, I DON'T CARE IF I'M EMOTIONAL BUT THAT'S TOO MUCH 'I'M SORRYS' . TOO MUCH EXCUSES, TOO MUCH LIES. And I'm sorry that I made a mistake and liked you so much. I'm sorry for letting you taking up my phone space, With pictures of you that an artist would find hard to formulate. Sorry you were my screensaver. Sorry I told my sister about you ..yeah I told her how adorable you were And I told her you were my ''soon to be boyfriend" ... And I'm sorry that I pushed another into the fire because of you Yeah I'm sorry I pushed him aside. But karma's a ***** and I knew it would get me, I told you it would AND I TOLD YOU IN THE END I'D BE HURT, and you told me no, and I would be. Darling being replaced doesn't bother me, it doesn't make my bones crack, It doesn't make my heart cry .. It's the mixed signals. Today you're all flirty with me, tomorrow you're calling me names. WHY DON'T YOU MAKE UP YOUR MIND ?! I know you no longer need be, and to be honest you never did, So be honest with me and let me leave you alone ?? I'm also sorry for listening to your lies. I should've known though, by the signs you gave, "Let's be friends with benefits?" FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS WHEN I WAS HOPING WE'D GO SOMEWHERE ?? F.W.B, WHEN I WAS HOPING WE'D BE TOGETHER ONE DAY ? F.W.B, WHEN YOU SAID YOU LIKED ME MORE THAN YOU SHOULD'VE ?? Special to be used then thrown aside ? What did you want ? A piece of me ? I should've have know when you said I was special, after I said you were my "soon to be boyfriend " And I'm sorry you'll never get to see this. But I hope you suffer from your mistakes And rot in the arms of any other you come across, Because no one will EVER adore you like I DID.
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47
Dear Harry, I see you're doing well these days. One year later and I still watch as you grin and laugh with your friends. Sometimes I just grin as well knowing the truth behind the plastic you call a smile. You once told me that you feel like you don’t belong. You get a burning in your chest thinking of how awful humanity is and how you wish you were a robot so your brain would match your body. But when I told you from the anxious walls of my heart that I sort of feel the same but I'm not making a metaphor, I'm transgender You said that I didn't feel it as intensely as you did so my identity wasn't that important. I suppose I can tell you now that you became the reason why I agree with you about humanity. Your face sickens me. Sort of funny how everyone calls you Harry Potter because of a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on your cheek and it was a big joke and I always laughed because what a coincidence even though I never read the books or watched the movies and now because of you: I never will want to. I don’t know if you realise that you’ve shattered me. Shattered me like the board you can cut in half thanks to years of karate and your hand crafted swords are part of the reason I never crossed you because if I just change myself hard enough maybe you would stop saying you could use them on me if I kept talking about how much I love everything if everything isn’t you. Sometimes I would wonder if you could hear my knees fighting not to snap in half. I would wonder if you knew that you are like a hurricane; strong and unpredictable. And like a hurricane, you came storming and when your thunder rumbled and rain paraded all over me it left nothing untouched. I could say you're a forest fire but that would make it hot and quick and emotionless. No, you are a hurricane because hurricanes are wet and windy and raw and wild and it left me drowning. Unlike a hurricane, your damage can not be fixed with teamwork and donations from those that feel sympathy. The damage you’ve done is permanent and even with all the repairs I’ve made in the form of therapy sessions and promises that I shall overcome, I. I am still in ruins. You are bitter but not sweet. But for 17 torturous months I only saw it the other way around.   Reaching out to try to catch onto something worth fighting for But this isn’t worth fighting for Because my hands hurt from writing I’m sorrys. Because my brain hurts from pushing out reasons you’re not worth it. Because my soul hurts from fighting the back of my mind that still loves you. You have rendered me obsolete.
0
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 3:34 PM UTC
Letter To Burn In The Ashes Of His Flame
Dear Harry, I see you're doing well these days. One year later and I still watch as you grin and laugh with your friends. Sometimes I just grin as well knowing the truth behind the plastic you call a smile. You once told me that you feel like you don’t belong. You get a burning in your chest thinking of how awful humanity is and how you wish you were a robot so your brain would match your body. But when I told you from the anxious walls of my heart that I sort of feel the same but I'm not making a metaphor, I'm transgender You said that I didn't feel it as intensely as you did so my identity wasn't that important. I suppose I can tell you now that you became the reason why I agree with you about humanity. Your face sickens me. Sort of funny how everyone calls you Harry Potter because of a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on your cheek and it was a big joke and I always laughed because what a coincidence even though I never read the books or watched the movies and now because of you: I never will want to. I don’t know if you realise that you’ve shattered me. Shattered me like the board you can cut in half thanks to years of karate and your hand crafted swords are part of the reason I never crossed you because if I just change myself hard enough maybe you would stop saying you could use them on me if I kept talking about how much I love everything if everything isn’t you. Sometimes I would wonder if you could hear my knees fighting not to snap in half. I would wonder if you knew that you are like a hurricane; strong and unpredictable. And like a hurricane, you came storming and when your thunder rumbled and rain paraded all over me it left nothing untouched. I could say you're a forest fire but that would make it hot and quick and emotionless. No, you are a hurricane because hurricanes are wet and windy and raw and wild and it left me drowning. Unlike a hurricane, your damage can not be fixed with teamwork and donations from those that feel sympathy. The damage you’ve done is permanent and even with all the repairs I’ve made in the form of therapy sessions and promises that I shall overcome, I. I am still in ruins. You are bitter but not sweet. But for 17 torturous months I only saw it the other way around.   Reaching out to try to catch onto something worth fighting for But this isn’t worth fighting for Because my hands hurt from writing I’m sorrys. Because my brain hurts from pushing out reasons you’re not worth it. Because my soul hurts from fighting the back of my mind that still loves you. You have rendered me obsolete.
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31
You described your love for me as scary Something that woke up little children at night, whimpering to their mothers. You describe my reaction to your saddest story as cold Like a forest dead and quite in the winter I left you alone in the cold dead forest, scared and lonely I left you quietly in the dead of night I send to you endless amounts of sorrys I hope that they might come in handy in the dark ER
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Nov 30, 2013
Nov 30, 2013 at 11:14 PM UTC
Cherry lifesaver sorry
*hard skin of life to penetrate soften that piercing stare* 1. seems a shot spiked with kindness does the trick that’s how we button up the moon’s sides with silver thread to keep its seams from splitting solemn sides and spilling all its jolly secrets: whorls of fingerprints sinking steadily into luna-grooves like a neat domino-stacked roll on a never-ending trip into black holes not far from Ursa Major 2. to grant a delightful hop up and throw seeking eyes over the orb’s gentle curve take a little look-see the tiniest peek into Tucanae where tidal forces push small clouds and outstrip the western winds towards cunning straits to subtly tie into bows cut ribbons of fate drink a dram of mercy from a well-behaved thimble yet poems don’t pay no bills now when words tinker with heart’s mettle 3. wonder if sagacious rue repays in full or satisfies the exceeding cost   of the hankering in a vessel caught eddying in giant nacred jetsam while casting minute gems before the moon’s eyes it’s nigh impossible to hide behind the sun 4. best be ready with prêt-a-porter life-pennies and be wise to always carry a pocket full of sorrys *stitch 'em seams together now it all comes together nice and neat* S T, Moonday, 15 July 2013
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Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 6:08 AM UTC
seams
The struggle of being broken No, not physically Mentally When you've been played with Been dropped And shattered Many times before. The "I'm sorrys" I always fall for The forgiveness I can't take back The knife that's still in my back Five fingers held up, only one is deserving to be seen by you One finger, two finger, three finger, four I ball each one like before Hold back the tears of being left again But nobody should know Because I'm not the one who Should struggle now I have to be strong for those around me Hold up my fist in victory for all to see Smile on my face No one can see the fate Of the girl With a struggle
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Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
A Struggle
How did we get here where vitamin water turned into ***** and the power of innocence changed to the courage of alcohol. The boys no longer opening car doors and the girls trading in t-shirts for crop tops that show off what they were or weren’t wearing. Where sneaking a soda after dinner turned into hiding a flask at the family party where we used to play games like hip-scotch and dodge ball instead of drinking hard whisky and Jack. The promises made in the D.A.R.E. program about not doing drugs or drinking were traded in for drunk driving and “just one hit.” How did we get here where grape juice turned into white wine and a nervous kiss under the bleachers at the Friday football game moved to steaming up the windows in the back seat of that car at the party on Saturday night. The knocking on your neighbor’s door for them to come out and play moved to texting in the driveway and hanging out means sitting on your phone while sitting on the couch next to someone else. How did we get here, where root beer turned to Busch lite and being home before dark switched to struggling to be home before the sun came up. The parents not knowing their innocent children are making children and kids being too drunk to remember they promised to go to Church on Sunday morning. Where asking for forgiveness overpowered asking for permission and sorrys turned into whiskey shots and make up *** How did we get here with a drink in one hand and the other around my waist while you lean into me too drunk to stand on your own. This is the first time we’ve spoken since that day last June and I can’t help but notice why. How did we get here where the power of innocence changed to the courage from alcohol?
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Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 2:24 PM UTC
How'd We Get Here?
How did we get here where vitamin water turned into ***** and the power of innocence changed to the courage of alcohol. The boys no longer opening car doors and the girls trading in t-shirts for crop tops that show off what they were or weren’t wearing. Where sneaking a soda after dinner turned into hiding a flask at the family party where we used to play games like hip-scotch and dodge ball instead of drinking hard whisky and Jack. The promises made in the D.A.R.E. program about not doing drugs or drinking were traded in for drunk driving and “just one hit.” How did we get here where grape juice turned into white wine and a nervous kiss under the bleachers at the Friday football game moved to steaming up the windows in the back seat of that car at the party on Saturday night. The knocking on your neighbor’s door for them to come out and play moved to texting in the driveway and hanging out means sitting on your phone while sitting on the couch next to someone else. How did we get here, where root beer turned to Busch lite and being home before dark switched to struggling to be home before the sun came up. The parents not knowing their innocent children are making children and kids being too drunk to remember they promised to go to Church on Sunday morning. Where asking for forgiveness overpowered asking for permission and sorrys turned into whiskey shots and make up *** How did we get here with a drink in one hand and the other around my waist while you lean into me too drunk to stand on your own. This is the first time we’ve spoken since that day last June and I can’t help but notice why. How did we get here where the power of innocence changed to the courage from alcohol?
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28
my misread compass -harley ginsberg obsessing over what I wanna do making decisions for me and solving my problems too why can't you just leave me alone I need a thinking place and some time of my own need tons of space away from you sick of being trapped in your zone feel possessed by your power too controlling for me I'm just a broken hearted soul keep taking advantage of the tears in my eyes rolling down my cheeks as I'm screaming and running I just want some peace it's my own ****** up life don't want you living in it keep blowing out the flames of the candles I lit and when I'm finally happy you wanna know what you do? you destroy it like a tornado pretending you had no clue of the smiles on my face the glow in my eyes but it comes as no surprise people say you mean well but I know the truth you planted yourself in me from each toe to every tooth and you use my weakness to put yourself on a high but I'm done with the sorrys and every single lie I know better now then to sit and watch it happen I know not to give you any satisfaction you take it all from me and leave me with nothing you break my heart at the push of a button and as I'm trying to push away all the pain it's always gonna be the same and as blood trickles down my arm and through each vein I'm trying not to go insane cause you're stuck on my mind for all the wrong reasons leaves are in my path falling for those changing seasons wishing you would change too and back away from me and my old life and the way I was living I'm done with never getting and always giving I need love in return to mend my broken heart but only thing you sending my way is dart after dart they go through me like air but get caught in my lungs now I'm choking on lyrics that can't even be sung I want to forgive you believe me I do but how can I let go of this when you're the only direction I knew I'll be lost on my own I'm so used to being guided by you but it's on the wrong path and I'll figure out what to do so goodbye forever to my misread compass I'm hopping in my own lane I'll be okay I promise
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
My Misread compass
my misread compass -harley ginsberg obsessing over what I wanna do making decisions for me and solving my problems too why can't you just leave me alone I need a thinking place and some time of my own need tons of space away from you sick of being trapped in your zone feel possessed by your power too controlling for me I'm just a broken hearted soul keep taking advantage of the tears in my eyes rolling down my cheeks as I'm screaming and running I just want some peace it's my own ****** up life don't want you living in it keep blowing out the flames of the candles I lit and when I'm finally happy you wanna know what you do? you destroy it like a tornado pretending you had no clue of the smiles on my face the glow in my eyes but it comes as no surprise people say you mean well but I know the truth you planted yourself in me from each toe to every tooth and you use my weakness to put yourself on a high but I'm done with the sorrys and every single lie I know better now then to sit and watch it happen I know not to give you any satisfaction you take it all from me and leave me with nothing you break my heart at the push of a button and as I'm trying to push away all the pain it's always gonna be the same and as blood trickles down my arm and through each vein I'm trying not to go insane cause you're stuck on my mind for all the wrong reasons leaves are in my path falling for those changing seasons wishing you would change too and back away from me and my old life and the way I was living I'm done with never getting and always giving I need love in return to mend my broken heart but only thing you sending my way is dart after dart they go through me like air but get caught in my lungs now I'm choking on lyrics that can't even be sung I want to forgive you believe me I do but how can I let go of this when you're the only direction I knew I'll be lost on my own I'm so used to being guided by you but it's on the wrong path and I'll figure out what to do so goodbye forever to my misread compass I'm hopping in my own lane I'll be okay I promise
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65
i had this dream that they had thrown me into a hole, and by a feat of bravery I had managed to escape, out the window and through the azalea bushes-- but I returned with a raging hatred, an unquenchable vengeance that manifested in red clay that settled over the creases in my palms and poured south in waves shaped like old angers and great mountains giant bison that snorted and plowed forth-- but I was the bison and I was the clay, greeting visitors with crushed eggs, yolk weeping through my knuckles, the voice of a hundred i'm sorrys creaking through the speakers in the living room, and i'm wiping blood from the meat in the kitchen on my dress with the yellow fade near the hem telling visitors yes, come in yes, come in when they shouldn't and I shouldn't but I could shake the earth, father, I'm so angry. I could shake the earth.
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Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC
Shake the Earth
The faded flicker of the far off clock was my only source of light. Until I picked up my phone and let my 2 A.M. thoughts run rampant. They made my fingers race across the screen. Made them play tag. They swiped and pinched until finally there you were. At 2 A.M. you were in my hands again. You're smile was as wide as ever and your eyes held the same glitter like they did when you used to talk to me. And You spoke about me even more. People would often come up to me and say that my name was all that would slip off your tongue. And I remembered that snake. The first time it brushed against my lower lip wanting access like a lion knowing that there was more to life than it's own cage. But to everyone, you spoke of me like I was the one who made the sun rise, who put the stars in the sky, who made the wind blow, and who made your world as you knew it turn. My 2 A.M. thoughts made my fingers dance again. And another you appeared before me. All dressed up. Like we were married. But far from it. We sat like we had to save space on the Mayflower. I was in your lap and your arms were around my fragile frame. And I knew I would never love someone as much as I loved you that night. And my 2 A.M. thoughts brought me to the messages. Where are little "I love you more" fights were held and our futures were voiced. Remember that? I was only a few months older than you. And I remember saying that I had to wait longer for my soulmate to come to me. And there you were again. In my head talking to me when we were bestfriends. While tapping on the plastic on the screen, the fingers fought for their right to voice the will of my 2 A.M. thoughts. And I wrote about how I met you so far, way back when. I wrote about the dances we went to, the dates we laughed about. And then ultimately the 2 A.M. thoughts brought me to the deepest places I never wanted to let set free again. And they scrambled on the keyboard of the phone! CAPS LOCKs, sorrys, pleads, and begs. Explanation after explanation and so many what if's. And I read it and read it. And only now did I realize that I was choking on the tears that you left me with. And I continued with the rant, and blamed you for what happened and blamed you for the causes. And then I stopped. And wept into the cold tear stained pillow, screaming into it like it was my last shot at everything I could ever have been. And once I felt numb enough to pretend that it wouldn't bother me anymore I let the small sobs escape my quivering lips and I destroyed the barrage of words that was my 2 A.M. thoughts. And instead willed my hands to let the fingers dance once more as I typed: You're coming back, right? _________________ You're coming back right (sent 2:35 A.M.) (read 2:36 A.M.) . . . And the dots they came. And I waited. But inevitably, Just like you, They left me with the question: You're coming back, right?
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Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 3:59 AM UTC
You're coming back, right?
The faded flicker of the far off clock was my only source of light. Until I picked up my phone and let my 2 A.M. thoughts run rampant. They made my fingers race across the screen. Made them play tag. They swiped and pinched until finally there you were. At 2 A.M. you were in my hands again. You're smile was as wide as ever and your eyes held the same glitter like they did when you used to talk to me. And You spoke about me even more. People would often come up to me and say that my name was all that would slip off your tongue. And I remembered that snake. The first time it brushed against my lower lip wanting access like a lion knowing that there was more to life than it's own cage. But to everyone, you spoke of me like I was the one who made the sun rise, who put the stars in the sky, who made the wind blow, and who made your world as you knew it turn. My 2 A.M. thoughts made my fingers dance again. And another you appeared before me. All dressed up. Like we were married. But far from it. We sat like we had to save space on the Mayflower. I was in your lap and your arms were around my fragile frame. And I knew I would never love someone as much as I loved you that night. And my 2 A.M. thoughts brought me to the messages. Where are little "I love you more" fights were held and our futures were voiced. Remember that? I was only a few months older than you. And I remember saying that I had to wait longer for my soulmate to come to me. And there you were again. In my head talking to me when we were bestfriends. While tapping on the plastic on the screen, the fingers fought for their right to voice the will of my 2 A.M. thoughts. And I wrote about how I met you so far, way back when. I wrote about the dances we went to, the dates we laughed about. And then ultimately the 2 A.M. thoughts brought me to the deepest places I never wanted to let set free again. And they scrambled on the keyboard of the phone! CAPS LOCKs, sorrys, pleads, and begs. Explanation after explanation and so many what if's. And I read it and read it. And only now did I realize that I was choking on the tears that you left me with. And I continued with the rant, and blamed you for what happened and blamed you for the causes. And then I stopped. And wept into the cold tear stained pillow, screaming into it like it was my last shot at everything I could ever have been. And once I felt numb enough to pretend that it wouldn't bother me anymore I let the small sobs escape my quivering lips and I destroyed the barrage of words that was my 2 A.M. thoughts. And instead willed my hands to let the fingers dance once more as I typed: You're coming back, right? _________________ You're coming back right (sent 2:35 A.M.) (read 2:36 A.M.) . . . And the dots they came. And I waited. But inevitably, Just like you, They left me with the question: You're coming back, right?
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16
*Even when I know they're but unfinished stories, accepted pain and acknowledged sorrys, virtual realities reflected from mirrors of a lost paradigm and engineered metaphorically vocalized  pantomime even when I know that they're not the end of the road (that there're even many more miles to walk) or even  blossoms of life within a spectral pod but merely a beautiful view of the vast and rough ocean from the calm of a floret mental dock through tinted glasses in pink of perception with utmost optimism a fairy born of refraction through a phantasmal prism even when the universe disputes the truism of a magic wand I still fantasize about holding your hand and matching with you through thick and thin for better for worse, against the torrents from foe and keen in turbulence of rage and storms of tears till we find laughter until the bruises of souls and hearts shattered find mending in the enema of our blending so we can have a happy ending even when I know forever and for always is just a true lie and we are likely to more than anything make us cry, I still believe in pulchritudinous endings, in happily ever after in you and I, in the beauty of wilting roses and those in the rain in sticking together through the pleasure and pain... Even when I know love is just a word, we can lend it every meaning we've ever dreamed I still believe in real romance, in the broken being fixed in forever being now and now being forever in never saying never, in you and I truth or lie, do or die... roads and bendings long as it's with you, I believe in Happy endings...*
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Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 7:58 AM UTC
Happy endings
*Even when I know they're but unfinished stories, accepted pain and acknowledged sorrys, virtual realities reflected from mirrors of a lost paradigm and engineered metaphorically vocalized  pantomime even when I know that they're not the end of the road (that there're even many more miles to walk) or even  blossoms of life within a spectral pod but merely a beautiful view of the vast and rough ocean from the calm of a floret mental dock through tinted glasses in pink of perception with utmost optimism a fairy born of refraction through a phantasmal prism even when the universe disputes the truism of a magic wand I still fantasize about holding your hand and matching with you through thick and thin for better for worse, against the torrents from foe and keen in turbulence of rage and storms of tears till we find laughter until the bruises of souls and hearts shattered find mending in the enema of our blending so we can have a happy ending even when I know forever and for always is just a true lie and we are likely to more than anything make us cry, I still believe in pulchritudinous endings, in happily ever after in you and I, in the beauty of wilting roses and those in the rain in sticking together through the pleasure and pain... Even when I know love is just a word, we can lend it every meaning we've ever dreamed I still believe in real romance, in the broken being fixed in forever being now and now being forever in never saying never, in you and I truth or lie, do or die... roads and bendings long as it's with you, I believe in Happy endings...*
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30
You broke the girl with the golden smile. You watched the light drain from her eyes. A thousand I'm sorrys could never reclaim The one who was your rainbow after the rain.
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 8:55 AM UTC
Lost
The parents row again, but You just sit in a corner like The good little girl you are, Watching shadows cast by The sun flow through the Kitchen window. Your dolls And toys are in the other Room where the row is; So you just sit and listen To birds sing from outside The house, like the patient Little girl you’ve become, Playing with dark dancing Shadows in the cold hall. The words of rows seem Harsh and loud and vibrate The walls causing your ears To ache and invisible friends To depart. The words are Unknown to you: the **** Yous and cruel ***** fill The air; the loud blows will Come next and Mother will Cry and the rows will stop And the there theres and oh I’m sorrys will flow along The walls where you sit and Watch the shadows on the Cold linoleum floor play As you and they have before'.
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Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 3:53 PM UTC
PARENT ROWS. (OLD POEM)
From my bedroom window, I can see a lime green ribbon Constricting itself around a tree. Lynching the last inch of life From a being That stood strong for a half of a century. As each leaf wilts and falls it is a reminder that nothing is ever permanent. Everything dies eventually. In our family, Green is worn proud Above our hearts The star of David guiding us on our way But something to be ashamed of. A color that condemns our family to endure your sympathetic stares That follow us everywhere. It is as if we are the main attraction of your circus: Come see the dying, the crying, and the bald. But to us, one ribbon wrapped around are hearts Represents a million words wrapped into one. Especially the ones never said. The I love yous The I need yous The I’m sorrys And the goodbyes It is an endless cycle Of CAT scans, and chemo, and radiation, and surgery, and blood tests, over and over. If only to slow the process of Cells detonating themselves In a body that was never strong enough to fight it. Strong arms cannot hold the weight of their daughter’s broken hearts Or their sons missed football games, Or their wives plan less anniversaries When they carry their own mortality We never knew that our man of steel, Would become our man of sleepless nights, No longer able to carry his children to bed at night. The only person to guide through our disjointed lives What ifs become your safe haven as well as your nightmare? And your reality becomes mixed with fatality. And eventually, you don’t know the difference. Prayers become a lost hope, Church becomes a last resort And treatment becomes useless Because it is a diagnosis that no one can escape. I never understood “When someone is diagnosed with cancer, everyone around them is as well.” And dad know that when I look into your lifeless eyes Mine will mirror it.
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
The Line Green Ribbon
From my bedroom window, I can see a lime green ribbon Constricting itself around a tree. Lynching the last inch of life From a being That stood strong for a half of a century. As each leaf wilts and falls it is a reminder that nothing is ever permanent. Everything dies eventually. In our family, Green is worn proud Above our hearts The star of David guiding us on our way But something to be ashamed of. A color that condemns our family to endure your sympathetic stares That follow us everywhere. It is as if we are the main attraction of your circus: Come see the dying, the crying, and the bald. But to us, one ribbon wrapped around are hearts Represents a million words wrapped into one. Especially the ones never said. The I love yous The I need yous The I’m sorrys And the goodbyes It is an endless cycle Of CAT scans, and chemo, and radiation, and surgery, and blood tests, over and over. If only to slow the process of Cells detonating themselves In a body that was never strong enough to fight it. Strong arms cannot hold the weight of their daughter’s broken hearts Or their sons missed football games, Or their wives plan less anniversaries When they carry their own mortality We never knew that our man of steel, Would become our man of sleepless nights, No longer able to carry his children to bed at night. The only person to guide through our disjointed lives What ifs become your safe haven as well as your nightmare? And your reality becomes mixed with fatality. And eventually, you don’t know the difference. Prayers become a lost hope, Church becomes a last resort And treatment becomes useless Because it is a diagnosis that no one can escape. I never understood “When someone is diagnosed with cancer, everyone around them is as well.” And dad know that when I look into your lifeless eyes Mine will mirror it.
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47
Is life imitating art or is art imitating life? Eventually there will be nothing left to hide Save your sorrys   It's time for me to cool your mind and tell you it's all alright We're the pop-up's on your phone screen Sending you little blurbs Memes are funny because they're true At least to you You're the hypochondriacs Who convinced yourselves you need to be healed With a numbness cure by posts that make you feel There will be a new one, if you like the last Is life imitating art or is art imitating life? Eventually there will be no where left to hide Save your sorrys   It's time for me to cool your mind and tell you it's all alright This is a beat generation But with less respect but way more dope The question is "why should I?" Our answer is always "I don't know" We're yesterdays news and tomorrows punchline Never even had chance Self-entitlement won't ease the situation Of our need for instant gratification I need a drink in my system to take off the edge I need a lie to make me feel safe I have an axe in my skull splitting my brain Is it me or the world who's insane? Upload, like, follow Reblog, comment, unfollow What's hot is hot now but not tomorrow Will your words hold up or drop out?        -Tommy Johnson
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Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Comedown
my mom told me to explain so i did, i explained every pain. everything, but she didnt believe me again. she said she knows im lying, im insane. im telling you i was telling the truth. but no one believed me. she gave me a second chance she said explain everything and tell me the truth i just sat there not even looking at her she shouted im only gonna say that once so i gave her a glance i didnt bother to speak for what? even tho i'll explain everything, the truth she still wont believe me. im over it, cause i said my sorrys she said her sorrys too. but still, i felt miserable. cause *the one who i thought would always believe me just told me that no one will believe me.*
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
i though you trusted me
Nobody noticed when she purged herself of her lunch though the scent of ***** was still recognizable through her mint gum. Nobody noticed when she tore through her untouched skin despite the trickle of blood she forgot to wipe clean. Nobody noticed her cries of help through her sobs of sorrys. Nobody noticed the pain in her eyes. Nobody noticed when she broke. Nobody noticed and for that she is gone.
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May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 3:03 PM UTC
Mint gum
She cried a single salty tear all her hurt bound over the year She realised she'd turned her hand a footprint left behind in the sand and all you goners, you left her from here left her crying one salty tear and she never left or walked away she took each step, made it day by day She took a hand and it was not yours left your memory on distant shores drowned your sorrow in sweat and blood stayed a good girl, like all good girls should and you took her more than she baragined for left her naked and shivering on the floor left her alone with her salted eyes left her loving all she despised no love song for you and no glory be no more she left your mercy washed up on the shore no more are you here no more i wonder or try in vain no more should i let my love be my shame She smiled a good smile and all was good she stopped being a good girl like all good girls should she drank from her life and felt the burn remembered all that she had to yearn she lived a good life when all was said left you lying there in your bed and ****** on your sorrys and i wonder and what fors didn't wait around for locked hidden doors She fell full forwards and backwards a mile she hit a battlefield when she saw your smile but no alas, alack, you are no more your love is like sand, washed upon the shore good evening, good morning, good night you lost me within the range of your sight it took me 6 months and 6 months no more to realise you are nothing, nothing no more
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Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 5:44 PM UTC
Sand
I , yes I the traveller have long seeked the sun , moon and the clouds yet they again have slipped my gaze and only darkness covers my eyes . The story teller of the great God of  “IAm “ about his tales should I tremble as I listened with many others in the great hall , Speaking of a God who one day even his patience will like sand drift from his loving blood stained hands . Begone with you for even i have to sleep and find comforts that no man should seek , let alone find , for the monsters of the deep loneliness , bitterness , and pride leave me captive in chains . Sage if you see him tell him what might have been , and sorrys only purpose is love. Please don’t burden me again with you’re story’s of woe my darkness is full of tempting visions and to sleep is to indulge . What’s wrong with me my eyes are dim when they used to love the light and fair grounds with hymns and songs , tales from the book , the story tellers I must find and end this Blessed night . Chain mail of Norman men rise from the river , skeletons of my past rattle like snakes in my head . When in sleep do they arose me and darken my forest in this cold winters night . Captive only to the light how my soul seeks rest from this besieged fortress , dare I surrender to my foe ? Holy Spirit freeer of the night thy captors await thee , for this tale must end in heaven or hell . Look again the jailer comes and light once again must set me free .
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Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 2:20 PM UTC
The Story tellers night .( somewhere suspended between heaven and hell )
woke up at a reasonable time. doesn't seem like I can sleep in anymore. everything about my home seemed emptier- as if you had been with me all day and all night and had up and left at the crest of dawn with no more than a kiss to the forehead and an, 'I'm sorry, my love.' the sun-porched city skyline in the distance (church steeple next to apartment block) looks more beautiful than usual. I contemplate how you called me last night at 3:30 in the morning, your eyes Victoria Falls with sorrys and I love yous. I contemplate how we both imagine we'll meet again someday, how we'll fall in love again someday, how we'll be together again someday. a very large part of me hopes this is true, despite everything you have put me through- - despite everything I have put you through. but for the sake of lack -paralysis, I will move on. and I will love you. I will move on. and I will love you (again - - and again - - and again - - and again - -) there will be others, but you have a part of me not even I can get back.
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Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 12:43 PM UTC
the day after the party (hangover)
If my words could bring you back I'd tell the mirror that you've gone away to battle My noble prince will return (Though your best weapons were always cold words and cold shoulders) I'd inscribe my name into the bindings of all your favorite books As though some part me could find some part of you in them I'd yell at every pillow That couldn't manage to muffle my cries Every song that sounded just too much like us Every fairy tale that seemed mocked us in it's polarity (Dear, I wish I could've spun us in gold) Every picture we took That now look too much like broken promises I'd sweet talk the fridge Into making me feel worthy of more comfort food I guess you always said you like them "thick" After you told me I'd gotten rounder I'd scribble ***** sick sorrys into the floorboards Serenading the floors you walked (I think they turned to water on your final gracing of them Because now I'm falling through) I'd tell the fractures in these walls that you were the best filler The fractures in my chest the same I'd speak of you in the highest regard My bourgeoisie balance act Always calling for a coup d'état And maybe that's why when I see you I'm so choked up I gargle these words in my mouth But they fall into a silent drone And If my words could bring you back I still don't know that I could say a thing
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May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
If my words could bring you back
You wanted me out of your life You broke your promise You broke my heart After everything we've been through you simply tossed it away With cruel words and actions You broke me down You made your choice you knew what you were doing You left me there "bleeding" You hurt me And I'm still here reeling in the aftermath destruction I'm sitting here, Trying Not to fall in the gaping hole That you left behind You left when I needed my big brother the most Its too late to be looking back now. its too late for the I'm sorrys and apologies So to Answer your question YES the door back in is really shut and to answer your other question NO..... ......I don't think It will ever open back up
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
No.....
I read a book once that told me "I love you means never having to say you're sorry" So if I love you so much And I do so incredibly beyond these words.. How come I feel as if I need to apologize, Please just let me. It needs to be said from these lips, the same ones that have kissed the entirety of you and left bruises on your neck. Let me use the same voice that whispers I love you, into your ear and the same voice that sings to the radio in the car, the same voice that has formed hurtful words that furled out of my throat like leftover cigarette smoke when the window is suddenly slammed shut and you can still smell and taste the bitter burning tobacco. You look at me and you can't stop sighing. I look at you and I can't even see you. Your body to me has broken and I can't pick up the pieces because you won't stop sighing. I love you means never having to say you're sorry. I think in my head all the hate and every single sorry I would like to say But you say sorry first. It comes out of your mouth burning my insides quickly before the match has even reached the candle. I know before you even say it, turning me into a melted puddle of tears, more hatred, more sorrys. The body that was once bits has been picked up and built together again and now reaches for the body that is a pool of lifeless clay and holds her hand and molds her back together. He holds her  fragile body and wipes the hot tears that could make her melt again and she mutters: "I'm sorry."
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
Building Blocks and Clay
I read a book once that told me "I love you means never having to say you're sorry" So if I love you so much And I do so incredibly beyond these words.. How come I feel as if I need to apologize, Please just let me. It needs to be said from these lips, the same ones that have kissed the entirety of you and left bruises on your neck. Let me use the same voice that whispers I love you, into your ear and the same voice that sings to the radio in the car, the same voice that has formed hurtful words that furled out of my throat like leftover cigarette smoke when the window is suddenly slammed shut and you can still smell and taste the bitter burning tobacco. You look at me and you can't stop sighing. I look at you and I can't even see you. Your body to me has broken and I can't pick up the pieces because you won't stop sighing. I love you means never having to say you're sorry. I think in my head all the hate and every single sorry I would like to say But you say sorry first. It comes out of your mouth burning my insides quickly before the match has even reached the candle. I know before you even say it, turning me into a melted puddle of tears, more hatred, more sorrys. The body that was once bits has been picked up and built together again and now reaches for the body that is a pool of lifeless clay and holds her hand and molds her back together. He holds her  fragile body and wipes the hot tears that could make her melt again and she mutters: "I'm sorry."
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17
Buried rabbit hole, you never knew what was there a crushed mirror brings bad luck, sorrys won't save you This is like kindergarten, I'm trying hard to understand "Why you didn't tell the obvious" Abandoned playground, you never come to play anymore a broken swing that can't be fixed, the ropes won't hold you This isn't fairyland and I'm finding hard to tell you "Some day the dreamers wake up" Open book, you never read between the lines hell is bringing its demons, secrets won't trust you This is our twenties, I'm trying so hard to laugh "How I wish I was dead" *And I find it kind of funny I find it kind of sad The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4&feature;=share*
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 6:07 PM UTC
Mad World