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Jessica Sep 2013
Love fades
Tears turns to blood
That won't stop dripping from eyes
Buried soul, heart, and life
Break the bodies
Lock the way out
Which can't be open anymore
Swimming to the depth
Travel to the unknown
Walking without body, without soul
Memories.......
That's all what left
Never been able to find the keys
To unlock the door
Trapped in this world
Full of pain and misery
Forever

Until that moment
When I wake up and realize that's only a dream
Now I'm wide awake
Free from my haunting nightmares
I'm sick, ohhh, this is felt so bad. This is my nightmare on the most horrible night I ever been through.
Audrey Apr 2014
Some days my lips feel cold and my ears
Hear none of what I say
Only a faint buzz of wings rustling in the wind.
Some days my fingertips feel blue,
Even though the blood is warm and
My knees chatter in the brisk wind
Even inside my head.
Some days I face the flames of the spiteful dragon in my soul and
His fire doesn't singe me,
A frozen statue.
I am a spirit, a single tarnished coin in the dragon's hoard,
A point of light drifting
In a body too big; I rattle around in my skull,
My skull that is too hard
I bruise and scrape.
Little red and purple-black marks, definitely injured
But a pale finger pressed to them elicits
No response.
Nothing.
I am devoid of feeling, my heart beating but
No pulse,
No life.
The dragon stands outside his den but
Makes no move to attack.
My bones are stuck in flesh
Too heavy, waxy and cold
I want to fly!
My joints stretch through in hard angles,
Translucent skin showing blue veins;
River-tracks of spent blood,
Cold blood,
Carried back to a fluttering heart.
Chilled.
Cold-blooded, a giant lizard seeking it's warmth from other sources.
A shudder twitches between ribs, lungs
Too tight, gasping beneath the
Skeletal, crooked spine running like dragon's spikes
Down past my hips,
Bumps that will maybe become wings
Some day,
Wings that will lift me up
Some day,
Lifting that will become floating
Some day,
And then broken branches will drop from
Cold trees
Fire boiling in my gut,
Waxy skin melting from trapped bones,
A skull too hard,
Flesh too heavy,
Lungs too tight,
Crunch, break, destroy
And my little soul of light will
Float away and be
Free!
If only I had a dragon's courage.
DaSH the Hopeful Aug 2014
This coffin
    I inhabit
         Floats along the nonexistence
    Of space
And time

        In such a way as to make me forget what comfort ever was
     Days become eons
Trapped in a box reeking of death and lacking in emotion
     I become nothing more than a trained chimp
            Acting out "living" as I see actual humans do

all for a few measly peanuts

*yes oh yes I wouldn't mind if this rolling coffin crashed and burned if for nothing more than to end this surreal nightmare of not existing
GREYHOUNDS MAKE ME CRY TEARS OF ****
Axiomighty Apr 2013
You are like the itch in my throat
You are a nuisance I could do without
So I swallow some lyrical pills and kick you out
But you are doubt
And it doesnt matter that I'm the illest
I am so sick no anecdote could **** this
No sugar coating can hide bad business
I'm feelin like a train derailment, my lives so off track
Might as will hit the cupboards and pack
Leave tonight and leave for better or for dead
Is life worth living, just to pay off debt?

But if I leave I will still be trapped in my head
Funny how all these epiphanies are tapped into in bed
Where if I was sleep instead
Maybe I'd have a future not encompassing a floor that's wet and red
If my compass was working I'd already be found
Yet now I lay in the void of avoidance
Wishing not a thing in the world could exploit the simplicity of being thoughtless
Then I remember I am in the wilderness
And I may be found as a skeleton
So I make a fake parachute over the next three months
I climb a tall tree
And spread the fabric out on top
Hook myself up
And then lean over a branch into the air
And when the rope meets its full length
I loose all strength
But noone will ever have to know that I never flew
And felt the high skies breeze
That I was always so low
Noone but me
And what hangs is a dismantled ego
But not my body! Not my mind
For I stand at the bottom of the tree looking up
And you would think you won the battle
But I've come to realize there is no up and down in the Universe
Theres just a line, either bouncy, or straight or curved
And since forward is the only place to go, I unfold these verses out of the crevices of my brain
So I have something more than my negativity to leave behind
And thus lays a trail of bones from the creativity I caught and ate alive
And now I can be at another level of life, because I can travel through time
And go back, pick up old poems and make them dance to new vibes
Then be so **** glad I decided not to cut my rope short, so glad I stopped drowning sorrow with a quart
So glad I didn't give up on love
And then realize how great it feels to realize theres no such thing as above
All that ever really mattered was just now
Just us
I've always deserved freedom
And now
I've found justice
Some people reside in conformed buildings
Birds fly south
Bears hibernate
But when the cold comes
I let my poems slip out my mouth
For these sentences are wild
But these syllables are my warmth
These words are my home
And so, I will never be alone
Dan Kipp Feb 2010
Now
read this aloud, mind the punctuation,
and, finally,
enjoy.


amethyst eyes alight with nighttime lightning, clapping lashes spark ruminations rumbling across the savannah of memory imprinting in me the afterimage of Now.   Now, Now makes me hers -- though i’m more willing a captive than she imagines: imprisoned in the present, tasting the electricity resounding in this soundless cell () deafeningly solid --
she grooves before me.
slowly rolls me
me rolls slowly  
molasses boiling tongues twisting towards me
ba-da doom ba-doom doom doom.

i don’t know if it’s the fireflies caught in midnight-amber jars suspended by strands of suicidal curls tumbling down the pitch of your back,
or
your touch, come tentatively, but nonetheless titillating, for it softly pleas me to get grounded, stay a while in the timbre of warm fireside conversation and cocoa,
or
your teacup of a navel compelling i to lift laughter, fish up reminiscences, and transcend time,
or
when you lean close and lick me with your eyelash, as if a butterfly’s kiss,
or
your soft voice smoothly singing songs of four-lettered blues .   .     .

.     .   . my god you’re gorgeous.

dance with me, Now     for two more turns of the moon let’s defy posterity and traverse the curves of each other’s words and purge our selves of self     let’s anesthetize Now, marinate in the moment, savor the silence and become sap-trapped fossils left for the future     let’s live a lifetime together in two more turns of the moon, Now,     so that I may memorize every quark of every electron of every neutron of every proton of every atom of every ion of every molecule of every cell of every sinew of every tissue of every ***** and every system of all your beauty, Now, you are perfect because you are am is and will never be anywhere else but here and nothing else but Now.

feel me?
   feel her?

      feel here?


Now.
Joseph Childress Oct 2010
Love is a tough safe to crack,
But if you come prepared, with your instructions packed,
Brought the right equipment and your mind is intact,
You can open it with ease,
And receive the treasure that’s trapped.
Still there are people, too eager for waiting,
Anxiously cracking the safe
With the hammer of impatience.
But what you’ll end up breaking
Is not only the safe
Destroying all the treasures enclosed,
But also your back,
From swinging the hammer too far back.
Now in the back of your mind,
You’re ****** because you shattered your spine.
You can only sit, thinking of the bliss
You could have had if you just took your time.
Paralyzed from the neck down, and you can believe it,
Jeopardized your love life just from swinging
That **** hammer of impatience
Which made you Love’s paraplegic.
Nat Lipstadt Feb 2014
See  please, if you have not yet,
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/594328/this-filled-a-need-i-had-no-name-for/
                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

got myself in trouble,
found me a problem
all of my own making/creating,
all my own to solve,
all by my lonesome

put/found myself
in a room with no exit at all,
only bookshelves upon the wall


with bookshelves full of
great poets who when they wrote,
they filled a need that had no name

said to myself,
how am I going to
get out of here,
or
find a space for me on that bookshelf?
or both?

this new standard, self-imposed,
discovering, exposing, sensing,
filling the aches and hopes
with a new satisfaction

it occurs me this is the precise atomic second
that if, can place the keystone,
then, can build the edifice,
floor by floor,
room by room,
poem by poem

so, trapped in this electronic/platonic youthful room,
a room with too many words,
but none mine,
my problem begins

so I have begun to solve my own one-problem,
alpha bet, word, line, stanza, poem,
one at a time

and never post what never meets the highest
standard of mine own creation,
fulfill
*the need you did not know needs filling
I have drowned in the geyser up, the waterfall down of too many poems.  I have decided to post less, but hopefully better.  I will read more but say less.  
I will be among those anonymous reads,
of whom, oft wondered,
who are you, you, who read and move on
with a nary a moment to comment or like, or dislike?
Look for my messages tho, for via stealth technology, I will be present here.

To write special, and leave special on the table, my goal now.
From here on, I write for me and to the highest standard, expecting to fail, hoping to succeed.
Knowing this:
I define success when I put the pen down,
having left breath ,tears, a poet's and a child's dream, and sweet perfume
as the residue.  Those of you, the readers, who come along, treasured but fewer, share my meal and leave the table satisfied and tell me too,
that you too write to me,
you will fill a need that we did not know needed filling,
One poem at a time.



*“Get yourself in trouble. If you get yourself in trouble, you don't have the answers. And if you don't have the answers, your solution will more likely be personal because no one else's solutions will seem appropriate. You'll have to come up with your own.”

"society is much too problem-solving oriented. It is far more interesting to [participate in] ‘problem creation’ … You know, ask yourself an interesting enough question and your attempt to find a tailor-made solution to that question will push you to a place where, pretty soon, you’ll find yourself all by your lonesome — which I think is a more interesting place to be."*

― Chuck Close*
Mercury Chap Apr 2015
Let me write a sad limerick
Pouring out emotions from a skin so thick
Inking the pale page of no memories
Let me blow on it some gusty breeze
Let me write a sad limerick.

Let me write a sad limerick
Of my well being which sounds so sick
Hours of speculation make me famished
But I can't eat, my hunger has vanished
Let me write a sad limerick.

Let me write a sad limerick
I have a wall around built from dark brick
The trapped painful lonesome feelings
Tear me more, less healing
Let me write a sad limerick.

Let me write a sad limerick
You make me sadder you unhelpful *****
Leave my life, don't you see
There is no one that you can change me?
Let me write a sad limerick.

Let me write a sad limerick
Sick and tired of my mind's tricks
I want revenge then I'll be free
If I make him bleed I won't disagree
Let me now stop this limerick.
Joseph Peterman May 2017
the reflection back
doesn't reflect how I feel
when my phone rang
and you answered and said
"you're my everything,
my one and only"
my heart wasn't hard to steal
peace of mind from what you told me
folded the papers
which were notes you wrote me
but with you, I still felt lonely
then came the day
you texted me to say hey
but I knew things were shaking
inside your head a storm erupted
tried to ask but you spoke nothing
days went by
everyday I cried
worried for you
still had no clue
what was running through your mind
you could see the future
as I stood back blind
finally you had the urge to text me
and I died a little inside
when I read the message that said
you didn't want to be mine
I know you feel trapped
stuck in a religious war
you seek to escape your life
a religious thunderstorm
I can't even imagine
a life full of control
can't create your own path
or own story to be told
and I was foolish to think
that we could stay together and grow old
almost as foolish as a candle shining
outside when it starts to snow
or thinking we were on the same page
or that all your thoughts were made known
and you liked me but still tried to mold me
into something I could never be
transformed my thoughts into ones less happy
but I wasn't happy because I wasn't the old me
and you no longer cared for me
cause I went against what you told me
I didn't let you manipulate and fold me
and I no longer loved you fully
I became your dreaded past
you became my bully
and at night I have thoughts
that always rush through me
they keep me up at times I know they shouldn't
so hard to sleep when you feel so foolish
you shot the gun
and I bit the bullet
at times I considered your words deadly
now lately you've been dead to me
constantly talking and always complaining
I was slowly becoming the negativity
you tried to make me
but I still wish I had the chance to express myself
many things I could tell you
things that would provide help
I would have so many things to tell you
and so many things to say
but the first question I'd ask is:
"why do you make me feel this way?"
Izzy Stoner Oct 2013
If this is all there is
If everything I've seen so far in life  
Is all there is to live,
And you are never ever coming back
Then let me be happy with it.
Because I so desperately want to be happy.
Let me see every new new day like
A mother sees her child, eyes open wide
Staring at something I had a hand in making
That could just as easily go wrong as it could right.
Let me hear every seven AM wake up call as
The bells of St Peters to the ear of a choir boy
Calling me to worship with unquestionable faith.
Let me eat every burnt slice of toast like
A convicted criminal ensconced in solitary
Devours his last meal on death row.
Let me feel laughter as something other,
Than just the vibration of vocal chords.
Let me always speak with the conviction
Of a dreamer, a believer, an activist
Shouting every syllable
From the pinnacle of an overturned soapbox
And treating every street corner like a stage.
Let me stop trying to predict rain
And accept that if there are going to be downpours
There are certain seeds I need to sow.
Let me stop watching the television screen
As though all of life's mysteries
Can be answered by documentaries.
And that I can finally tune in, by connecting with fictional shows.
Let me see wonder
Because for a long time now I've been dreaming in colour
Its real life that seems trapped in monochrome.
If this is all there is
If everything I've lived in life has taken all I have to give
And you are never ever coming back.
Then lets get it over with.
Because I so desperately want this to be over.
Let me breathe in smoke for the rest of my days
Until tar spills from my lungs, to my heart
And burns my capillaries with that nicotine flame
Let me make heartbreak an art.

Because it reminds me of you
And I don't deserve any better.
Let me walk like I'm walking on eggshells
How I always used to do for you.
Synne Sep 2012
What is this poison,
that dims hope like light in a room,
caked with cigarette smoke?

The sour bath of sins
that spoils the fertility of our souls,
like the black sap,
clogging the crimson holes in our conscience.

What is this medication
that murmurs obediently in the tunnels
of your flesh like a blind fly trapped in an hourglass?

The thick soup that sinks the dredged
pulse of life as it croaks and awakens in
hesitation
for the next perpetual dawn.

A sign tacked like an eviction notice in the skulls
of your dreams, telling them:
“I’m sorry Sir, but for this magnitude of pain,
there is no cure.”

And still like an earthquake, death
trembles at your fingertips like an
old, worn man— asking, perpetually,
“When’s the next train to Calgary?”

I have not the guts to tell him
the smoke has held me
captive
all this time.

*2011
Jasmine Aug 2017
No use to fight the bloodshot eyes
Stained from the tears I cry
And Your love that is seeming to die

I sit

Light?
I need none,  just wanna feel a buzz


Yet nobody kills the high of your lust better than you
That pedestal I put you on has sky scraped my heart raw
Yet the pain keeps me wanting fix
Fistfuls of tears and hate we ****** at each other
Burning our trust
Til the smoke exhausts us
Time stops and forgiveness is brought
I love you’s and fantasies are from silent thoughts to passionate exchanges
We seal our soon to be broken promises with a kiss
A pattern so sweet my tongue can’t seem to keep itself off of you

The rain could never drown me, for I stand beneath you
My umbrella
Beholding patches
Exposing the brisk to my lips
Cheeks would be stained red if I was a shade of pale
Embarrassed,
To be seen trapped within this thing of sorts which you call love
A poem about being emotionally trapped in a toxic relationship
Alyssa Algorithm Mar 2011
I hope you hang from the noose tied around my heart,
to decapitate the monster
that eats at your thoughts;
searching for your weakness
and feeding on your pain,
killing you quickly in this inevitable game.
You roll the dice again,
only to find you'll never win.

Now the tables have turned and I'm back where i started;
dumb and in love,
scarred arms and open hearted.
when I realized the games were over
and everything was real,
i tried desperately to run,
but stayed for the thrill;
expecting you'd leave once you've had your fill.

now I'm happily trapped,
in this game we call love.
i won't try to run or give you away.
you're mine and I'm yours,
and that's how it should be.
we killed the monster and beat the game,
our cynical hearts now one in the same.
Shannon Jeffery May 2014
Garden of beauty
Is where you lay
Trapped on the outside
Is where I stay

Your heart full of roses
And your soul of tulips too
Your eyes the diamond river
A glorious beauty is true

My heart beats for two
But locked out i am from you
Untouchable serenity
Mind stirring insanity

I lay here expiring
Watching you through a glass window
To your garden of eden
I dream to go
Hallee Jan 2014
being in your own personal prison is so lonely.
I cannot stand the sight of my own body and
it's like there is life trapped inside of a home I am not programmed to love.
chemical imbalances are easy to blame
so instead I focus on that fact that I cannot go longer than 26 hours
without caving into the persistent animal that
lives under my diaphragm.
the loneliest moments of my life
are when I find myself in a dark room
with my clothes off and my demons out to play.
they laugh and they pull at every inch of my collapsing body.
with tears streaming down my face I cup at my stomach and thighs.
it's like I'm screaming
I'm sorry
but actions speak louder than words
so I'm probably whispering.
the structure of temple may be beautiful
but the demons that reside inside
do not agree.
I am not fighting a battle with myself.
I am fighting against myself.
against my flesh and bones.
What if i just packed my bags and ran away,
never showed up through the light of day,
This life seems like a paradox we live throughout our own thoguhts,
this world, the touch, the love we see and feel, is it even all real?
One day when i lay through my flower bed,
am i in a matrix of never ending dreams, from horror and love to all things that seem real when i lay my head to sleep?
Dreams are recurring but so is this life, so tell me this now
are we in a dream when we open our eyes, or do we just dream when we close our eyes?
I want to feel love, no pain but pleasure,
I want to seek something more high of a real temptation to live in this world,
but when you're trapped with just your fantasied thoughts,
how can we truly know when to stop?
I woke up this Morning, came back to my bedroom and thoughts began to linger in my mind and this is what was said.
Martine Nov 2013
Your non-words echoing softly in the silence.
What am I so afraid of?
I think I know what I want
but have no idea of what I truly need,
which confuses the dream infatuation that I have with the idea of being with you.
The stories I've heard about how it would feel to be under you;
the fear of being possessed by
insecurity
while enveloped in your arms.
Cornered by the reflection of our bodies
while trapped in an incantation of shared breath,
whispering loudly to the primal beat of my pumping veins;
I see past infinity.
As my thoughts become quieted,
they are swallowed by my subconscious.
In this moment,
I become truly lost.
The ‘I’ that over-thinks and overreacts is coaxed into submission
and swept under the rug;
atop which we make love.
William A Poppen Feb 2018
Each morning
the boundaries recede
Skies are still blue
Wisps of wind still stir
High noon marks an end
and a beginning
Must someone star
in a slow motion film
as a carp stirring
in the remnant floodwater
of a receding river
Trapped, alone, hopelessness,
Inspired by a line in Victoria's poem
Habitual tendencies
GaryFairy Apr 2015
basic thoughts lead to basic things
eventually it turns into a circle

and our minds get trapped inside

I own everything
do you know what that means?
I am like a king
because I own everything

many wants lead to many needs
eventually, leaving you starving

it's like a mental malnutrition

I have everything
but I don't know what life means
to my things I cling
I have everything
syhlent blue Feb 2016
Stuck in my own prison

My thoughts have enchained me

Bound to these feelings that I crave

Desiring the closure that I deserve

You took my shallow heart and gave it depth

Then you left

Making me believe that there's so much more to hold on to

Then letting go

Now I'm the only one holding on

Also holding on to all these mixed emotions

While you let go of everything we had

I'm starting to think we never had it

Please disconnect me from these memories

I need to breathe

I inhaled you

You exhaled me

I give you more

You give me nothing

Now I'm trapped in this lost and found

And you'll never come back to reclaim what you once had

Maybe it's because you never lost it

You let it go and found something new..
Kimberly Seibert Aug 2014
I remember the day I heard the bird bark.
Flying into the future, a plethora of dark.
He dropped from the top, falling into a soar.
Forgetting the cage, trapped by the door.
Kyla Aug 2024
I'm trapped
I look out of the window and see this world
that isn't mine
this life isn't mine
I'm just a puppet,
everyone around me holding the strings Controlling where I go, what I do, what I say
Controlling how I think, how I feel, who I am
I'm just an animal stuck in a cage,
powerless
a fish stuck in a tank
I tap on the glass but it doesn't budge,
doesn't break
instead, those on the outside tap back at me
mocking, laughing
laughing at my struggle to survive,
to be my own person
I can't escape, I can't get out
I stick up for myself and it changes nothing
I try to break away but I get pulled back freedom doesn't exist for me
I do what others want me to do,
never complaining, never faltering
but I am tired
tired of getting pulled every which way, never having a voice or a say
When is the day going to come,
when I won't have to fight to be myself,
make my decisions, have an opinion
I just want to be free
sarah minks Dec 2011
The floor was strewn all over
With children’s toys and books
With ***** clothes and rotting food
And sticky disgusting Popsicle wrappers
With shoes and socks and dishes
And garbage
With cat hair and dog ****
And dead plants that never had a chance
Splats of ketchup and mustard adorned the counter tops
And smears of chocolate and grease covered the refrigerator door  
Inside the sink the roaches crawled freely over the never washed dishes
The air was filled with the toxic ammonia of cat **** and spoiled left overs
A layer of dust covered every book and nick knack never touched on the shelves
Every place to sit was sticky and hairy
And your shoes became trapped to an increasingly vile floor
The garbage can filled to over flowing
With more bags of garbage sitting waiting to be taken elsewhere and two grown adults never bothering to take them
And quite seriously the mother of this outfit dares scold the little boys and bellows at them to clean their rooms
Seriously!  What the hell!
The air so filled with dust and hair and cigarette smoke is a nightmare even for those not suffering of asthma or allergies
I think I now know what is meant by “We were all yellow”
And the bathroom
Oh my god the bathroom
It might have surpassed the filth of the worst road trip gas station bathroom
A gross grey film covering every inch of every surface rings of repulsive ghastly filth covered over in endless dust and grime and drips and drops and hair and *** and blood
And still more garbage stinking putrid garbage
Never removed
And all household members sitting staring blankly at the filthy television screen or mindlessly surfing the net at the half broken computer
Except the children who got no attention
No love
And had no hope of positive reinforcement
One lighting the tacky and ratty cotton curtains on fire
the other standing on a chair in the middle of the room and peeing on the floor
as the baby sister sat fat and screaming in her own filth
hair matted by chocolate fudge pop
she was too young to have been given
all the children’s clothing was soiled and covered in food
Presumably from days of wearing the same clothing
Because no one cared for them
Or for themselves
What was the point of giving these children life?
Or toys or pets to play with
If only to ruin all they had
Which was meager to begin with
What is the point of setting up house
If only to fail to keep it clean
And to yell and fight constantly  
Relying only on the past experiences of your own childhood and never to even try
To rise above it
Living life in your imagined trauma
And creating for your family very real and lasting trauma
But you’ll never give a ****,
You’ll never grow up,
You’ll never see the consequences of your actions just barley scraping by the law
Someone called me worthless once
And many people think I am barley adequate
But I would rather be adequate
Then be genuinely worthless and horrid
I would rather be caring and honest
Then a pig headed ***** constantly screaming at my children but doing absolutely nothing myself
Living my life with no empathy and no emotions but my own thinking only of myself and what I want
Thinking about ways to make others do for me giving nothing in return
So I will forget about you wasted people and your unfortunate children
I will tend to my house, my family, and my work
And I will not let my past become my future
I will improve myself and my life
Being grateful for the things I have
And learn not to covet what others have
I will be stronger then the pigs I suffered through living with
And I will be happy to be adequate
Happy to be free of swinish people
And be the me that I have become
this is a real family i really lived with i could say more but i don't want to reveal too much
forgotten May 2014
All alone in this state of desperation
am I the only one, willing to fight
As if im waiting at this old station
waiting to be spiritually elevated into flight


too bright to be trapped inside this mediocrity
waiting to escape the grasp of this city


I can feel the potential within me
my teachers claim that it is and has been
Dead

My parents ask only for me to conform
I deep down know that I will never
Instead I ask for a complex reform
No
I beg for change

We are being blinded every day
I feel my eyes slowly closing
I feel my nails digging into my eyelids
Begging for them to open

I then wake up
and do exactly what the system has taught me to do

With remains of the abundance of scars
on my eyelids

and no change
fight the system.
Nicole Mar 2019
The walls are up, I can feel them
My hands skim the cool wire fence that
Separates me from my inner workings
The edge of my consciousness
I want to get inside
A false sense of bravery is all it is
Because when the gate opens and I walk in
The feelings throw me to the ground
With a force I can't understand
Holding me down by the throat
Bits of past horrors flash across my vision
Thick adrenaline floods my muscles
But I can't breathe
I can't use the energy to fight or flee
I'm trapped
I can hear voices whispering darkness
Insults and judgement whipping my flesh
I can't move
I can't even blink
And suddenly I can
But my body is once more
Curled up against
That cold cold barrier
And I want inside again
Written right before a good emotional breakthrough.
cheryl love Aug 2014
Lies are trapped
trapped in a spiral of untruth
If your daddy hears you talk that
he may just hit the roof.
Up he goes, like a puff of smoke
grey and angry fit to rage.
Best destroy all lies and turn a leaf
start a brand new page.
You dont want your daddy to explode
shooting adverbs right, left and centre.
There dont you feel a sigh of relief
dont things seem slightly better.
I believe they will and do.
To the page I understand and my existence for which I only same to  trace.
Have we not came this far on instinct now can we outlast the ******* ahead?
dam the wrong turns I have far less direction with you may I convince you to stay only to destroy
what never was to begin with my dear.  

As we count hours only to empty the glass.
Maybe one last dance upon  this edge will break us maybe if only we embrace the hopeless
may we understand death and the emptiness for which you remain.

Tonight a graveside stance forget the souls underneath I walked upon to get here.

Enjoy this agony for these are the days were night will gain depth.
So shallow are my thoughts when blinded by eyes.

You counted the hours but no change would become of you in form.
A favorite monster of my worst design can I slip my poison inside only to admire are decay?

Love you served me well for winter now summers hail will reside my thoughts.
Frozen as glass to water of pond .
Your image lay trapped within my thoughts and ice.

Farewell
Hollow Jul 2014
Do you smell that? The rich, smooth aroma in the air?
An omniscient amalgamation of flavorful anomalies
Ooh, I like it! What could it be? I haven't the slightest...
A persistent, wayward poet writes lonely words in the night
You mean like...? Oh dear me, shall I check the time?
Do you remember our last nightly adventure?
How could I forget? We must check the time! Quickly now!
Alas, our worst fears have thus been confirmed
A midnight poet, the most unpredictable form of writing...
Do you suppose the poor soul has had any coffee?
Well, I should hope so! What ever shall we do?
Naught. We let the pen run it's course, and in time...
But the destruction... think of the mayhem, woman!!!
Leave the poor thing, it's already a shame it's awake
No! Lay your weary head down, fellow poet, and rest...
Hollow, the best ideas remain trapped in mind during consciousness
Hogwash. I will not be hornswoggled with temptation
Though, I am correct to assume that you understand my reasoning?
Night-Write are the right-writes, yada yada yada...
So you agree then, do you not?
Well, of course! However, a midnight poet should never be left unattended!
Then we will write in the morning
Then so be it
Are you coming?
Go to sleep
Who are you talking to, Hollow?
-------
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NOLWAZI JOUBERT Aug 2015
She played it well,
so **** good like a busketball game,
but hell broke loss when
caught between the devil and the dillema.

She was a player such a **** poor one,
she never knew when to play her cards right,
bet she read the wrong menu when it came to killing two birds with one stone.

Her timing was poor,
but not so bad at it than how she failed to tell lies.
She would cry upon vanity all day long,
and let the poor boys believe they where the only ones.(i call them boys because they were not men enough to see)

She could have just practiced paliamory, ohh no i oppose on that.
What love could it have been for two people when she knew she loved only one.

Now her family and freinds are trapped in her lies,
defending the other guy from the other (they are being fooled).

As much as we were groomed and told to give away our toys.
i believe its time she lets go
for her mourns, tears and screams have come to the extent of reaveling to the whole world how naive but not innocent she is.
Victoria Edwards May 2019
the paper, torn
old garments, worn
faces, forlorn
ancestors, born
towns, dust
forbidden, lust
crime, just
metal, rust

these days were sepia
like everything around
the trees, the grass, the lovers
even the cobbled ground
trapped in torn parchment
in a long forgotten attic
in a colorful world
more theatrical, dramatic

sepia, sepia, sepia
and only still
forgotten, denied
only a cabinet to fill

and soon, you and I too
sepia will take
our faces drained of color
nothing left to make.
A Person

Real or not
Tangible or intangible
Laughter or cries
Some know
Some know and don't care
What hurts the most
Is assumptions
How
lost
what does one do
Words trapped
Not spoken
Why
What
Emotions tossed and turned
The vision of merry go rounds fill the head
Happiness or sadness
Pain or pleasure
Want or need
When
Where
is
the Person
Written by Jennifer Humphrey/Niyahlove all rights reserved
Richard DeGarmo Aug 2016
My friend.
I think of you and would love to take away all the pain in your eyes.

My wish is you find peace within yourself and remove your fears,
and you become amazingly happy without stress and worry.
Then you will find the clarity to see how blessed you are in many ways.

Then you can see it is the journey.
Each day do what you can, and don't judge it.
It is gone.
Look forward to another day, other experiences,
and another page in your life.
You get to choose what it will be, and it will be perfect because it is. You can do this. You can do anything.

We set up goals, but they can become hurdles,
then barriers to our feelings.
They become ends with nothing next.
We made it, what now?
We are unique beings and can choose our path.
We can be happy, or choose to only be happy if certain things happen. I would rather just be happy.

Life sends us terrible tragedies sometimes.
Things that tear at our souls and make us doubt our faith.
That rips our heart out and leaves only despair.
I know this feeling. Oh, do I know this feeling.
If we can let go of our fears, try and make sense of our lives,
we can mourn, then remember the joys of times we shared past.
The wonderful days we had.

Or we can hold on to this terrible pain all our lives, let it define us. Even let the terrible pain take over and let it shorten our lives.
We can do that. We can do anything.

It is when we forget who we are, and feel we have no control over our lives or happiness, we are lost.
Become a victim. Why me?
I am cursed, god has abandoned me.
So we can wander in the wilderness for 40 years, or we can find our way.
Maybe someone will guide us.
We can search forever or we can find a teacher.
We can do this. We can do anything.

Sometimes we feel trapped, and accept our fate.
Nothing we can do.
We have so many obligations we have to do.
So many things we can't let go of, all the things we can't change.
This means we feel there are so many things we must do when we don’t.
So many things we won't let go or are afraid to change.
We can do this. We can do anything.

I can't tell you what to do.
I can't tell you which path to take when you come to a fork, a choice.
I hope you will actually realize when you are making those choices.
No matter what you think, you control your life,
unless you decide to give that power to someone else.

So I hope you choose your paths well.
And if one of them comes near me, we can share some magical moments and I recognize them as being special.

You decide when you move, when you pause, or when you stop.
You decide who you will shine your light on;
Who you share a piece of your life with.
You can do this. You can do anything.
I just hope you know when you are making a choice,  
that it will take your life in one direction or the other.

And I hope you choose happiness.
If you let go of the pains and worries you hold so tight to your chest, you will be free to attract those things in life you need.

And then dream of the things you have found so elusive,
the things that will complete you, and they will come to you.
Life is a journey, not a goal because when you reach a goal, it ends. Your life doesn't end now, but it is easy to get lost again.
You think, I’m here, where do I go?
But you can do this, there is no right or wrong.
Who has the power to decide that if not you?
We live with those choices.
You can do this.
You can do anything.
Never forget.
Wrote this to a friend who was troubled. I read that Leonard Cohen worked so ******* his poems. Struggled with a wrong word, a break in the feeling. For weeks, even months. I love his writings and songs. I am happy I don't do that, I would never have the patience. I sit down and sometimes a story comes out. I may correct spelling or words, and then post it. I admire those that display such attention to detail in their works. True poets. I am an empath and just write down feelings when they come. I am no poet or writer. This is the first thing I posted because my friends on Facebook liked it. It brings me happiness when someone says it helped, and I look for nothing else. Richard
Matthew Rodarte Aug 2014
That face I once knew,
so utterly alluring,
those eyes magnified beauty,
oh how time flew,
I must go back,
not a minute goes by without you in mind,

I built it out of love,
memories true,
feelings absolute,
franticly I make this machine of time,

Time with you,
so priceless and evident,
I must go back,
your absence,
my hearts deepest casualty,
you were true in it ALL,

I've never felt so correct,
your kiss,
a mouthful of euphoria,
holding you eternally,
so tight,
will make it I swear,

I built it out of love,
memories true,
feelings absolute,
I'm trapped happily,
in my time machine,
Oh my time machine,
Oh my time machine,
Oh OUR time machine...
Sophiea Oct 2011
Today seemed like a day I should be silent.
The silence seemed so absolute, every small sound
reverberating intensely.
My annoying voice would shatter such a perfect peace.
Perhaps a song.
If a song were to break out over this lake,
causing ripples in its surface,
clear and bright, that might be acceptable.
The silence their audience,
a brilliant song.

I wish it so, but I know my voice has not that song,
and in thinking so I find I've lost it altogether.
So I sit back, a supportive member of the audience.

So step up; we're listening.
We silenced wait for your beautiful lucid song.
Someone to save us from the silence we trapped ourselves in,
afraid to break perfection.
Someone to tell us that imperfection is something that's okay.

Your song can rescue us.
Your voice can come and let us sing again.
Let your music ring across this silence.
We'll rise up, a chorus of flaws, and be beautiful.
Set us free.
Sing.
I was waiting

Life just kept on running
While i was waiting
But you never showed up
And very slowly i started to realize i was trapped

It kept getting heavier each time i breathed
Was it me making those eerie sounds i heard?
I was left in the endlessnes of time
You had said 'just forget the world for a while'

My coffee was getting cold
I whispered your name as i had been told
One of those days i had thought that i could have seen you again
But turned out i knew i was just insane

I put more sugar into my coffee and stirred it
Wondering if i would be able to ever drink more bitter coffee again without thinking of you
Then i left it on the table....
I was waiting for you....
Ashley Oct 2013
&
& she was steadly losing happiness
    the demons began to flood her mind
& her grades began to fall
    from As to Cs
& her perseverance was weak
    she struggled to fight back
& she became lost
    trapped in her mind without a compass
& she began to fall apart
    piece by precious piece

& her happiness is gone
    the demons rule & the emptiness commands
& her grades were at a all time low
     she failed her classes
& her perseverance failed
    she gets up just to fall back down
& she is lost
    the path is foggy & she can't see
& she fell apart
    it was too late to save her

she's already consumed
a.c.
gunnar bebee Oct 2019
Piercing through my core, deep calls the deep,
Penetrating my heart, life stops
My mind is mute, falling in a transit sleep
To the floor my body drops.

Crashing against the waves through the endless void
Lost, wandering, thinking, pondering
My heart and soul forever destroyed
This is now a conjuring.

The devil in me begins to awaken
Coming from the darkest of depths
I become a poltergeist, my life forsaken
Im only hungry for deaths

Withstood a thousand pains
Endured a million hardships
In my mind rages hurricanes
My mind is in eclipse.

Through the void in the distance I see light
Possibly a glimmer of hope?
Yet I can't even budge with all my might
The light and hope eloped.  

Screaming “why” yet the void remains silent,
My frustration continues to grow  
Each second Growing more violent
The furious rage on my face shows.

I am lost my soul burns it's final embers,    
The flame inside me is dying out.
My rage finally surrenders
Falling all about.

The darkness turns bright and the void is gone.
The silence has fled
To your soothing voice I am drawn,
You seem directly ahead

Pulling me from my eternal slumber,
Bringing life back to my dead soul.
You voice rattles in my head like thunder
you reach for me to get me out of this hole.


Through your eyes I see dazzling stars,
Sparkling in the moon-lit night
Your gaze shatters my minds prison bars
And it holds me tight.

You stand beside me on this narrow path
Leading me towards a better tomorrow
Soothing away my wrath
My trust and willingness begins to grow?

By your side in emotional bliss,
I finally feel at peace
No longer in this oceanic abyss
Finally living at ease.
A friend and I decided that we'd try and make a poem together. Every first and third line is his and every second and 4th line is mine. This is what we managed to come up with
Vicious Circle Jul 2016
She played me as always her lies had become a constant and I no longer questioned if they were truths anymore.

She needed to look down on someone the spoiled always do .
Once I was her fix to ******* daddy now I was simply her crutch .

Look at what I tolerate he's a drunk
He is lazy won't work all he does is stay out all night he's such a *******!

She needed someone to blame someone to make her appear less of a train wreck than she truly was.

She was a first rate **** .
Maybe that's why I liked her so very much.

She always was the victim of a nonexistent crime .
The lover of empty words .
And the destroyer of mine.

There's no hell just people trapped inside prisons of there own creation.
Mind **** ******* like myself misreble and doing nothing to change the course.

It was one in the morning when the phone rang.
Hey can I come over she asked .
I've really missed you I'm sorry I've been such a ***** .

I paused for a moment saying nothing I simply hung up and took the phone off the hook.

Looks like I decided to take another road instead .
Shiny Star Aug 2018
Feeling never ending cycles of
Greatness and misery
Trapped in a world of illogical ideas
Every thing seems so bothersome

— The End —