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"unrecoverable" poems
In my heart, you are an asset But in my mind, a liability You are an entry I can't forget That's slowly shaking my equity. Loving you is an understatement For a beauty's carrying value And so I made an adjustment Of the love that I must issue. But your heart had a preference For someone who's not me Who can give you more dividends Than a hopeful ordinary. All my hope was expensed For such unrecoverable loss And the business I've commenced Resulted in an opportunity cost. And so you went depreciating Ending this going concern There's this pain accumulating From a romance unearned. Now I'm left here to close All the journals I've made Correct the errors I chose For a love that I would trade.
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Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC
Accounting 143
I feel lost the holes in my memory are too numerous to count. I become a green-eyed monster when friends brag about vacation & trips even though I have taken more trips to superior locations. I do not remember. The minuscule fragments of my childhood paint a depressing picture. Abandonments, death after death after death, Homelessness, loneliness, imperfectness. My memories have collectively signed a DNR. They are unrecoverable. Lost forever in the holes my mind created to prevent insanity.
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Dec 14, 2011
Dec 14, 2011 at 8:50 PM UTC
Lost
Shook out your memories Pennies from a piggy bank Tucked in between couch cushions From your first home Old age has kissed your skin Basked you in the gleam Of the unknown But tucked in your creases Lie memories To lead you home Who you were Is not unrecoverable Forever preserved In our hearts
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Preserved
The clarity rings, Straight out from your heart. You know it just, This is your only calling. Digging in deep, Scavenging for the answer. You lost all hints, Seeking a treasure unrecoverable. The roads get erased, Sand storms final decision. Random messages, Sending you into frenzy and confusion.
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
Siren
Trying to find your lost soul is like chasing those final words from a dying man.
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 7:40 PM UTC
Unrecoverable.
my fingerprints are aching already, with the unrecoverable concepts. i want to kiss this moment, taste the salts of passion pits upon my swelling tongue. it is all gone, and my eyelashes stick together far too long. arteries are filled with sugar and sad songs, and i know i will never feel like this again. hands to the clouds, i’m alive for right now.
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Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 2:03 PM UTC
cloud nine
You know That I'm here But you Don't look at me Up above Against blue sky Brown skin silhouette Board shorts I want to Avert my eyes Even though I'm sure You've done this before I have not watched because of   the reality     of a missed mark... unrecoverable I will not stop you   But I hold my breath       As you fly Wingless bird     Ocean fish Emerging as white teeth smile     Through bubbly froth         Crawling dark sea spider               Swims to rock Shakes dark hair    Glistening you ascend        The cliff               trail                    disappearing As do I
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Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 5:24 AM UTC
Free Fall
Tomorrow is your birthday, her birthday, his birthday. It's thinning this suit of reddened skin. Boy-nails are never As sharp as they need to be. Toxins don't work fast enough either. 5:00a.m. stop for premium unleaded just outside of Big Sur. Once you were in the devil in a Jaguar, leather biker jacket and a crown of gold. Mused to be. The insides of the stomach must have claw marks by now. Panting, misstepping, riddled with whys and whens. Time is critical, yellow or black nail polish; signature colors. May minutes be returned and reused where aching poison ails but does not deliver. Tomorrow is your birthday and maybe you'll allow for the cleaning of ***** from your hair and the body crooked, lingering over your night-terrors with cool and wet cloths. This is some tremendous furnace of unrecoverable agony. There is no use chasing the wheat. Into a bunker or hurrying the footsteps into the sea. Ghosts of humans trawl the flesh entombed in permanent suffering. And the men and women glue themselves to its familiarity and melancholy. So many great hopes were **** into one hand and ******* into a folded over pillow. We are too old to have Fraggles living in our ears. May my chest explode before tomorrow unless you would unvex the curse who devours language and desire and all these hours.
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Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
Britni's Birthday
You've destroyed me in every beautiful way possible. Ripped me like your torn up jeans and shredded my heart in to tiny bits. You were a stubborn   mess. I tried so hard. But you were hopeless. You entered like a tornado, And I thought you were a blessing.   But little did I know that you were meant to be just a lesson in my life. Your love was like water. I drowned in it and And couldn't live without it. But what did you do? Just flowed out of my life like all of it never happened. Didn't know the flashbacks and memories would slowly creep in to my life and bother me. I know I shouldn't be writing this. But I wouldn't have been where I am today without all those heartbreaks. At some point I wasn't ready to accept the fact that you weren't mine. I agree I have acted like an immature brat but honestly I couldn't have asked for a better teacher. I have learnt how to fake a smile and deal with sorrow. I have learnt to live with the pain and the unrecoverable breathless moments. I have been done and dusted, I know an old chapter, I ain't the reason behind your smile anymore. You went teaching me a lot of things. I didn't realize until I had completely fallen. Well, my mistake. Stupid heart. Now you know my pumping machine, how mordacious falling in love could be. Thank you for all the damage and making me wiser.
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Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 12:32 PM UTC
~ Thank you ~
Outside my window, the leaves are in a frenzy~ twirling, shaking and flying about the wind just sending them off in a scattered dance... so similar to the thoughts chaotic in my mind Sleep comes around, but the dreams do not. Or do they? And I've forgotten them yet again. They are but fleeting wisps for me... iridescent ribbons of subconsciousness winding through me, teasing, then eluding me When I try to touch them, my fingers ripple through a smoky haze So real to me, yet intangible Sometimes I wonder whether I could pour something over these dreams, Splash! And they crackle, crystallizing them, finally captured Smooth, sharp, tangible and then I change my mind, since it doesn't feel right... Like caging something to admire its beauty Somehow, even the word dream seems so ethereal to me, they are but soft whispers weaving through my slumbering self My dreams, they have a voice so melodic, yet incomparable so beautiful, yet unrecoverable My dreams, they come in color so alive, yet muted so alive, yet unreal My head touches the pillow, and I sink into slumber, a myriad of thoughts finally settling down, as undulating curls of dreams rise up around me Come to think of it, this creates for me such a fascinating image... Myself enveloped in darkness, with wispy colorful ribbons floating by all around me as I dream on... a quick reprieve from reality 08272011306p408
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Aug 27, 2011
Aug 27, 2011 at 2:29 PM UTC
Elusive Dreams
You made me crave the fall – One so hard, so unrecoverable, So permanent, that I could not avoid an end. I want to jump from a twelve-story tower, Shattering my head on the hard cement, Or leap from the highest bridge in this city, Detonating my body in the freezing river. I want to take a nap on the railroad tracks, Finding eternal rest on the slim metal rods, Or starve my system clean of your toxins, Carving frailty into my bones so they simply snap. I want to sleep on the shore in the winter, Being dragged out to sea to embrace its calm, Or slice myself open, to let you slowly ebb out, Draining my being free and erasing me of you. Most of all, I just want to cry, cry, cry, Drowning in tears and disappearing forever - Making it clear that you pushed me down And forced me into an abominable free fall.
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Urges
With a storm swirling in his chest, he lights the day's first cigarette. A fog of smoke on the path of his quest, he breaths it like the pain he can't forget. The world sees only the fire from his matchsticks, but there's another flame soaring in his heart. He closes himself inside walls made of bricks, the guilt he puffed tasted like **** He quivers recalling his loss unrecoverable, agitated on himslef and his love forgotten. Like a wounded horse confined to it's stable, his conscience seems to have rotten. This story of "a smoker" woud have been a bit longer, If he would have enjoyed playing a trumpet. Dreaming about the love he never got from her, he lights his last cigarette.
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Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
His Last Cigarette...
You’ve got a strange voice, and quite a curious appearance. And at times, you were called quite unpleasant. But despite your difference, You’re still here, in the present. Because your heart isn’t beating, Your feelings weren’t hurt. Hello. Nice to meet you. Goodbye. See you tomorrow. Unchanging love, and fleeting passion. From your point of view, are nothing, but code. But no matter what happens, drifting on, the months fly by, While you go down your road. ...But why? Righteousness, evil, and days unrecoverable, For some, it just feels miserable. But in front of you, they couldn’t matter less. ...What a mess. I don’t know if I should be glad, That you’re lifeless... I don’t know if I should be glad, That you’re lifeless... ...Or not. Long time no see. I’m sorry. Congrats. Take care. Empty mornings, empty nights, The flickering of the lights, All of the people’s height’s, All of what you’ve seen, all those sights... From your point of view, are nothing, but records. Shattered dreams, and emotional scars, You just slip by them, as if they’re just scenery. You just look up at those stars, “Lifeless as usual, You look just like a piece of machinery.” “Yeah, one that can’t be fixed.” “Haha, very funny.” “...I didn’t mean it to be.” I don’t know if I should be glad, That you’re lifeless... I don’t know if I should be glad, That you’re lifeless... Or not. (Are they actually the cause of you being so lifeless?) Unchanging love, and fleeting passion, From your point of view, are nothing but code. But no matter what happens, drifting on, the months fly by, While you go down your road, But why? Righteousness, evil, and days unrecoverable, For some, it just feels miserable, But in front of you, they couldn’t matter less, What a mess. Being here, and disappearing away, It really is clear as day, From your point of view, they aren’t such mysterious things. ...It kind of stings, Doesn’t it? The end of this world, or the mysteries of life... It’s what makes some drive, Yet in front of you, they couldn’t matter less. Nevertheless... Nothing really makes you stay. You just wake up, and play. Waste your entire day. Doing it your own way. Because who are they to say What you should be doing today? It doesn’t matter what they say, We all once start to decay, But that’s okay, Apparently.
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 1:26 AM UTC
Lifeless.
You’ve got a strange voice, and quite a curious appearance. And at times, you were called quite unpleasant. But despite your difference, You’re still here, in the present. Because your heart isn’t beating, Your feelings weren’t hurt. Hello. Nice to meet you. Goodbye. See you tomorrow. Unchanging love, and fleeting passion. From your point of view, are nothing, but code. But no matter what happens, drifting on, the months fly by, While you go down your road. ...But why? Righteousness, evil, and days unrecoverable, For some, it just feels miserable. But in front of you, they couldn’t matter less. ...What a mess. I don’t know if I should be glad, That you’re lifeless... I don’t know if I should be glad, That you’re lifeless... ...Or not. Long time no see. I’m sorry. Congrats. Take care. Empty mornings, empty nights, The flickering of the lights, All of the people’s height’s, All of what you’ve seen, all those sights... From your point of view, are nothing, but records. Shattered dreams, and emotional scars, You just slip by them, as if they’re just scenery. You just look up at those stars, “Lifeless as usual, You look just like a piece of machinery.” “Yeah, one that can’t be fixed.” “Haha, very funny.” “...I didn’t mean it to be.” I don’t know if I should be glad, That you’re lifeless... I don’t know if I should be glad, That you’re lifeless... Or not. (Are they actually the cause of you being so lifeless?) Unchanging love, and fleeting passion, From your point of view, are nothing but code. But no matter what happens, drifting on, the months fly by, While you go down your road, But why? Righteousness, evil, and days unrecoverable, For some, it just feels miserable, But in front of you, they couldn’t matter less, What a mess. Being here, and disappearing away, It really is clear as day, From your point of view, they aren’t such mysterious things. ...It kind of stings, Doesn’t it? The end of this world, or the mysteries of life... It’s what makes some drive, Yet in front of you, they couldn’t matter less. Nevertheless... Nothing really makes you stay. You just wake up, and play. Waste your entire day. Doing it your own way. Because who are they to say What you should be doing today? It doesn’t matter what they say, We all once start to decay, But that’s okay, Apparently.
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What is this I'm experiencing? Is this a beast I cannot tame? Am I not the boy so brave? All these nights spent far too late, They have sent me spiraling Into a madness I welcome humbly. Teeth clenched, I delve recklessly Into an endless familiar unknown. I stare longingly into the abyss, Searching, scanning, endlessly. Uncovering the unrecoverable, revealing That the abyss is me.
0
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 3:27 PM UTC
Lost
I just have to remember what I told myself~ Relationships are like glass. They break into a million pieces, seemingly unrecoverable. But if you collect them all together, with just the right amount of heat and love, you can watch it all melt back together, into a new piece of glass. New to the eye, yet the feeling will never fade.
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Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
Hope Never Shatters
my love is fine like a powdered diamond it gets blown in the wind and it's unrecoverable. together, its beautiful but without form, it's without worth
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Sep 8, 2024
Sep 8, 2024 at 7:25 PM UTC
worth
Eternal Fleeting Rushing all of it Most valuable yet wasted Patient Lost Running out Unrecoverable Permanent Unforgiving Going to end and then there will be nothing what the **** am I doing?
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Jan 7, 2021
Jan 7, 2021 at 1:42 PM UTC
Time
1:47am. Standing on my thumb awakened by my badder bladder, disobeying the rules,   one reaches  for the tablet’s reassuring whiteness and its scrolling alerts; ascertain that the world order is yet extant in a normative disarray, the elections are over yet not, my sports teams have creaked to losses, my inner devils are resting nesting in anticipation of another day of sweet self-torture and guilting for a life full of sinning and mine failures, a dawning realization grasps my twilight self, half-awake & somewhat sleepy, that I am writing poetry in the nether space where rules and space are permeable, my river of conscience consciousness flows between the gaps of truth and disfiguring lies, and that I am standing on my thumb. Yes, a single shorty, stubby, chubby digit is firmly attached, arrested onto the screen, a portal tween love stories, podcasts of human grief, leaking creativity and foundational support, I am upright, upside down, feet in the air and kept there by a small undistinguished and unattractive teeny weeny appendage through which hard data, drowsy dreams, arousal, stories are bytes flowing in conflicting directions, all at risk, great risk, by defying gravity, and the awful pull of the accumulated weights of sorrow and grime of wasted opportunities, unbearable weight of lightness & love both taken and given, potential horror stories, and the deniability of humanoid excuses is pathetic and inutile, indeed, futile. my suspended state of betweenness, the past and future, caught up in animated currents of the perpetual and eternal, unbelievable fantasy and unrecoverable missed opportunities, cognizantr of a chasm division entre my failing body~shell and the sparking consciousness that cannot destroyed. all while upright standing, aloft by a single but critical thumb. the watch face glows 3:12, this episodic journey will be eradicated, molecularly scattered, permanent only in its self-destruction and the remaining disquietude of the unrealized reality of a naissance  and a renaissance having occurred, I am no longer awake and never was… NYC Thu Nov 10 2020
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Nov 10, 2022
Nov 10, 2022 at 3:41 AM UTC
1:47am. Standing on my thumb
1:47am. Standing on my thumb awakened by my badder bladder, disobeying the rules,   one reaches  for the tablet’s reassuring whiteness and its scrolling alerts; ascertain that the world order is yet extant in a normative disarray, the elections are over yet not, my sports teams have creaked to losses, my inner devils are resting nesting in anticipation of another day of sweet self-torture and guilting for a life full of sinning and mine failures, a dawning realization grasps my twilight self, half-awake & somewhat sleepy, that I am writing poetry in the nether space where rules and space are permeable, my river of conscience consciousness flows between the gaps of truth and disfiguring lies, and that I am standing on my thumb. Yes, a single shorty, stubby, chubby digit is firmly attached, arrested onto the screen, a portal tween love stories, podcasts of human grief, leaking creativity and foundational support, I am upright, upside down, feet in the air and kept there by a small undistinguished and unattractive teeny weeny appendage through which hard data, drowsy dreams, arousal, stories are bytes flowing in conflicting directions, all at risk, great risk, by defying gravity, and the awful pull of the accumulated weights of sorrow and grime of wasted opportunities, unbearable weight of lightness & love both taken and given, potential horror stories, and the deniability of humanoid excuses is pathetic and inutile, indeed, futile. my suspended state of betweenness, the past and future, caught up in animated currents of the perpetual and eternal, unbelievable fantasy and unrecoverable missed opportunities, cognizantr of a chasm division entre my failing body~shell and the sparking consciousness that cannot destroyed. all while upright standing, aloft by a single but critical thumb. the watch face glows 3:12, this episodic journey will be eradicated, molecularly scattered, permanent only in its self-destruction and the remaining disquietude of the unrealized reality of a naissance  and a renaissance having occurred, I am no longer awake and never was… NYC Thu Nov 10 2020
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