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Jarred Stagen Dec 2014
I like to meme all the time
I like to meme with a rhyme
I like to meme when I dine
Give me my smart phone back, mom, or I’ll ******* **** you
BoringBoy Jul 2018
Sometimes it's hard not to fall down.
Clouds have a way of relating.
My mind just gets so foggy.
And then I get tense.
And then I lose all power.
Eventually, I'll cry.
But there's only a 75% chance of showers.
Not every time I'll cower.
False Poets May 8
when you understand my poems perfectly then,

their utility is inutile,
their usefulness is, will. always be, in the


reinterpretation, a million and still counting,
as long as you must guess at its labyrinth inner wired construct,
be pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue,
a two lives (yours, mine) paired wine tasting, we together believing
in the greatness of joyous frustration

some say, as I do, the world is better for the
utility of thine own struggled understanding,
the truest combination of two way communication,
surpassed only by our at last armed embrace,
when at last we understand our mutuality of need and salve...
Listening doesn't always mean understanding
- Listening could mean getting lost in your own thought of tranquility
- Or even your own devastational whir
- Listening doesn't have to be with your ears
- Just the exhaustion of emptiness that outlines your skull;
- Or even the numbness that conquers every length from spine to external excellence of your mind;
- Gliding from one emotion to another could be the loudest transaction without making a single clamor;
- Listening doesn't always mean understanding
- But the utter perplexity of ones thoughts drowning in the sound of nothingness.
By Macee L
Daan Vandelay May 2014
I understand you now, I won't bother
you any
Raygan Emma Jane Dec 2018
Do I even consider him a lover,
If he isn’t you ?
Blake Jul 2018
Don’t tell me you Understand
Not until you’ve stared at a blank wall
With a blank face
For hours
And cried
Not until you’ve felt
Every little piece inside you break
And instead of feeling pain
Or sadness
You’re numb
Not until you’ve slit your wrists
Not trying to die
But not minding
If you do
Not until you’ve watched blood
Drip down your arm
And thought
It’s a nice colour
Not until you’ve done stupid stunts
And dangerous acts
Just to feel
Not until you’ve seen inside my head
The thoughts that live there
And tried
To die
Not until you’ve seen and felt
What I have
In this life
Will you ever understand

Don’t tell me you Understand.
Because you don’t.
I don’t
unravel my thoughts,
like a bunch of necklaces tangled together.
unscramble my words,
like a puzzle.
decode the meanings behind my Instagram captions,
to try to understand my ways.
theater class brought me to write this, haven't been in the best state of mind and the whole class i was playing with a small piece of paper.
exist Aug 2018
it can be so incredibly amazing
yet so incredibly isolating
to realize you’re one of a kind
and no one will understand your mind
daily struggle
Expirl05 Jun 28
So here,
We're not trying to ****** the time
Instead conquering the secret darkness.
Like seeing all the stars,
Reaching one by one,
Noticing all
Only learn the destined stars
JayceeJellies Dec 2014
I don't think my friends understand,
That when I'm with them I'm in another land.
A place where I know I'll always be safe,
I won't be judged, I can just be me.

And it means a lot to me that they're there.
They make me feel like I have no need to fear,
I can speak up which is nice becasue I'm quiet.
Usually because I'm trying to avoid riots.

Riots that could hurt me emotionally that is.
I hope I'm being clear and not blurry.
I'm trying to express how it feels to be-
Surrounded by thorns that change into clouds.

Just often enough to make the bleeding stop.
Do you know what it feels like to be that shocked?
It's as if you're drowning and then all of a sudden,
Someone saves you and takes you into their coven.

I'm just glad to not feel as abandoned as I had before.
I'm not alone in heart, I'm just a little sore.
But I'm healing more and more every day.
So that's a good thing, wouldn't you say?
i caught her wandering soul
she caught a whiff of chanel
Nylee Dec 2018
Which algorithm is going to understand me
understand sentiment behind what I do
It is coded for catching the patterns
For them we are just there
to generate the data to process
What insights will they create
about me when I'm just the outlier
they will remove me to get cleaner results
Generalise the problem
that it won't cater to me
technology is not the slave
they make us dance to their tune
We change, as much as they advance
Develop worse habits
change our routines
from when we were in the more happier place
to a place which comes with waves of sadness.
Tea Nov 2013
Letter to the boy who never writes inked words that spell out   I   love   you. But still his ink bleeds in ways I have never seen and it captivates the art inside me. The words them self may not be saying what I wish to hear but the portrait drawn in each letter is creating a beautiful big picture. I am glad you let a lovely spirit bring you to rainbows found in music that spills from your room. You see beauty everywhere and always point it out
I standing right beside you and  I can’t help but feel left out
So I see the fall and all you awes and then I look inside of me
Look hard
Alone and
Scrutinize myself
So here are something s
For between… just you and me

1)When I blush it may not be the subtle pastel you would choose,
But it blossoms on my cheek the color lovely. Crimson colored glasses show all my venerability, making me something authentic. And I like it most days. You can choose to hide your face, to look away but I love the way I am burning.You can't choose my pink or pick it.It is the color it is… well its authentic

2) I care about others to the point of it being a sickness. I have numb hands because anxiety acts in quickness, just like my reactions I am real, emotional and passionate. I see my beauty now and think you can’t have it. Even if I agree about all the other beauties you refuse to see me, and I am lovely, bright, I fit my hands just right, my legs are long and strong and remind me that my feet are my wind, a feather taking me to every place I have ever been and will be.

3) When you talk your words form poetry, but you can give up any time to get to know me, and I’m a piece of art. My colors are what words were made for. My beauty bending the conceptual understanding of language and a word itself. My eyes at any point in time saying more than your fingers ever could, slowly typing out word that beat out simple meaning. Tears fall from me heavy as bricks falling from a height, weighed down with the sorrow picked up through my life.

4) Im not bitter because you didn’t think I was hot. Because shallow boys make me their toy and they all want to play. And that makes me bitter and fules me with hate.  It was nice to find someone who cared a little more, who knew there were four letters to my name. who talked and shared interests. Only bitter now because you like my inside colors, but you didn’t think I was pretty enough to paint. And the deeper pool really was just vain. Tipping at the edge I am just pulled down the drain.

5) Is a secret. I use to hate my smile; my teeth are far from perfect. People were mean, you can say anything about it and I can say I have heard it. Red lipstick is my purple hard. Showing I made it through something mean and mad, perhaps I wish I hadntnt but I had and this is my prize. This is the honorable reminded I wear it with pride. Beaming, my red lips framing what had held me back from smiling for years. And I smile from ear to ear its beautiful.

6) A confession, I hate that you don’t see me, but I love what I see myself. I wish your hand writing wasn’t more appealing than the empty echo of what they tell.
So here is a letter to a boy, who writes in lovely scroll. Who couldn’t love me, if he knew me all. Simply said, I hope you find someone right, not me ever, not me tonight. Bitter without the sweet. To the boy who only writes but doesn't read, who expresses but just cant see, to the other lovely soul confused by all the color... I just needed to write you one last letter.
Kora Sani Feb 21
i want to write
but the words aren't coming

i'm feeling trapped
by my mind's inability
to translate my emotions
to letters with meaning

i write to understand
why i feel the way i do
i am the doctor
of my own thoughts

but if i cannot write
then i cannot understand
& if i cannot understand
then i cannot diagnose

so here i sit
with the same confusion
i began with

some words written before me
as useless as they come
accomplishing nothing
begging for everything
Tommy Randell Jun 2017
You are not to know
Your words tear me apart
I would rather you were

You are not to understand
The pain I feel
The casual cruel memories
Your words bring back

You are not to blame
For the raging fire
The scorching inferno
My tatterdemalion self

You are not to guess
My triggers of depression
Which bring me
To abjection

You are not to have power
In my company
Over me
Or any other

You are not to exist
As a threat any more
You are not 'TO BE

You are not a doubt
In my life to me
I want you to get this
This Certainty

You are not my childhood
You are not my past
I am not
What you did to me!
Daniel Ruiz Oct 2018
droplets of water are suicidal today,
walking over open windows,
one by one,
Flying for the last and first time,

It feels like an unusual rainy day,
the day shining bright as it always does,
but still it seems that water is falling,
along with strings,
along with parts of my broken heart,

once they coexisted,
one with the other,
made each other strong,

but know,
the droplets of water are suicidal again,
and i can't seem to get them to stop.
Jolan Lade Apr 2018
I dont understand
I thought i had a plan, a way
I got born into this wasteland
Shot into this quicksand
I want to name it a no man´s land
But everyone want´s to claim the right
And they fight
I have trouble understanding.
They hand me this brand
Then commanding me to do "an expanding"
In this world where everyone is grandstanding
Im trying to throttle down to make this landing
One thought scares me
That this might be everlasting.
!M just a little one who´s in progress, far from finished...
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