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gleck Mar 2016
Dehydrated skin, like leather
You being here doesn't make it better

Forehead against forehead
I feel my temperature rise

You make me sick to my stomach
Dear -
Darling -
My little stomach bug
In an unfathomable corner
of my heart
I see her.
Sitting with her folded hands
resting on her knees
Lowering her head
with helplessness
Held back emotions
flowing through her eyes
Her quivering lips
revealing the unsaid
Letting go.

A girl
so familiar
As if my other half,
the obscure one
Or an image to my urge.
Zell Mar 2018
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
If i said i miss you,
Would you miss me too?

I have three words to say,
words that echoed in my mind today.
I'd like to say them now,
But i don't know how.

Would it be too much to say it again?
I don't even know if i can.
Should i should say i love you?
Or just resist the urge to talk to you.
© 2018 D.A. Barreras
PURGE URGE
                Edward Iacona


From just after breakfast
Till the Sun stops gleaming,
If you're perscribed Torsemide
You understand  "On Demand Streaming".
September Roses May 2018
We are tied together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days,
When their life was ahead of them,
the future was anything and everything,
they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul,
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion,
running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair,
adventure ahead,
hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, were more enticing than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear
and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride fray at the ends
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy,
to the life they made,
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to cherish
Moments we'll wish we listened about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries,
visiting at friends,
at enemies,
joining with soul-mates future.
Some cut away,
some ripped from the tapestries too soon before they could weave their own.
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made,
and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded,
About how every slipping memory's never like the moment you made it.
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the void about how much you hate what your life become.
because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
EAC Dec 2014
A sudden jealousy a envious eye.
A voiceless pattern within this head of mine.
A vigilant figure, watchful eye.
A masked emotion on a blazing red sky.
I don't dare voice my thoughts because they are of scorn, my inside twist in discord.
A feeling, a urge to should, a voice so broken to see her stripped away
Verse: I
Sara Kellie Jun 2018
I wake up in the bath
after a day on the wine.
Fat ******* arrives
at mine around nine.
Friday night and it's too much,
the temptation.
******* powder with dehydration.

Back into town,
bouncing around like a clown.
Absorbing attention,
I'm the star of the show.
I'm cloaking my secret,
the one they can't know.

I'm out of my mind
and I've no Idea where.
I cannot go back,
'cause she lives in there.

I've been running for years,
purge after purge.
Yet I know come tomorrow,
I'll again have the urge.

Because I need her
and I love her.
I am her!

Poetry by Kaydee.
Running from my destiny but I couldn't run from myself anymore.
ryn Nov 2014
In solitude...
There's constant talk of the moon
And incessant wishes upon stars
Each word is cast unto paper
Unsure if they'd stretch that far

In solitude...
I embody pelts of droplets from the sky
As thunder mark the seconds that would elapse
Stagnant puddles of liquid dreams
Ever flowing in endless traps

In solitude...*
I feel the urge to lose all balance
Aloneness beckons like a long lost friend
Always strange but familiar
To see and be at the bitter end
ryn Jan 2015
How are you?
I'm alright I guess...

Where do we begin?
Maybe at the start of this mess.

Are you uncomfortable?
I can't say that I'm not.

Is it your past?
Well it's all I've got.

Do you still get nightmares?
Well I used to...

Will you let them show?
Depends on you...

What do you hope to accomplish?
I don't know... Peace of mind?

Would you have done things differently?
Everyone wants the chance to push "rewind".

Care to elaborate?
Let's just say I would've liked to be braver.

What do you mean?
I should've stood up to my father...

Did he abuse your trust?
He did more than just that...

Rob you of your freedom?
Let's see... His belt, cigarettes and also boiling water out of a vat.

Do you wish him ill?
I wished him dead.

"Wished"?
Yeah...in his bed.

Why "wished"?
Because I wanted that then...

For how long?
Since I was ten.

What about now?
(
Maniacal smile) I am now... At peace.

"At peace"?
I have found release.

You have?
Yes... I couldn't resist the urge.

Urge to do what?
To comply with the voice... "
Freedom...lies in the purge..."

You left your father?
Yes but not before...

Go on...*
Not before I slit his throat with a smile on my face as I shut the door...
Inspired a programme I watched on the crime channel.
Mandalina Oct 2018
Relapse.
It's screaming my name.
Relapse.
The urge is killing me.
Relapse.
I'm trying to stay clean,
but right now all I see is
relapse.

My vision is blurry,
my mind is a mess,
it all makes sense,
and I know I shouldn't
but in this moment I'm weak.

All I want to do is
   r  e  l  a  p  s  e



-j.m.k
Robert G Page Jan 2012
by
rgpage

face down she rests her naked form
head turned from her lover's glance.
eye's closed she lies and knowingly waits,
(a) loving touch starts passion's dance.

his huge hand moves across her back
with strokes the touch of butterfly wings.
upon her creamy skin so smooth
its path now set toward splendered things.

his pace a slow deliberate score
her passion's breath he brings,
from touch so soft, igniting sparks
with love her breath now sings.

his steady course she knows so well
with yet every touch as if it's new.
her sparks of passion love's embers light,
love's embers loving hue.

down past her rear with feathered touch
just knowing where to go,
behind her knees his fingers dance
to passion's steady flow.

their hips now in synchronic dance,
love's voluntary ride, she feels his
passion grown so hard,
now pressed against her side.

he cups her breast so gently
as if it were a flower,
its ****** earlier soft and small
now hard with passion's power.

and in her ***** great sparks erupt
her soft and pleasured flesh.
with juices flowing, desire's high
to meet love's natural crush.

now she turns to meet his lips
her passion running high.
with savage hunger she pulls him in
her hunter now the prey.

tables turned their urge well matched
desire holds the pace.
she takes control and guides his love
with feminine stealth and grace.

to places only she could know
where sparks ignite
small streaks of light,
that illuminates her soul.

together they fend love's tempting end
to stay their lover's dance.
to take control and reach their goal
the essence of their romance.
Sebastian Macias Jul 2017
Delicious are the days when
Inspiration fills up my lungs
With hope & desire & electricity
The urge to walk through fields
Of flowers, short and long
Letting the imagination dance
Inside of a garden in Paris
Singing Mozart from a balcony
Champagne and laughter all around
Thinking of the next novel to read
As you cruise the shore of Tulum
Tasting exotic fruits and wines
Along the Spanish front
Those days for me are gifts
The breathe of fresh air
One truly needs to move forward
corpser May 2018
The night is **** warm and there are thunderclouds looming in the horizon. Its skies are neatly stained with a *** stain looking stain of clouds, scattered in the yellow moon of 7pm.

I walked past a wake tonight, then a funeral then the graveyard. Im walking out to buy some cigarettes, menthol for my mother and reds for myself.

The night is a ticking time bomb rigged to blow. Like the pulsing ache in my head or the medicine in my mouth waiting to be crushed between my teeth.
Instruction says I should **** on it as long as I can. Says its supposed to relieve the pain.

I fight back the urge to bite. I fight back the urge to do a lot of things.

The ticking timebomb
Does not explode.
ryn Feb 2015
.
**Crushes and••
infatuations•••
Are but tricks••
played by••••
the heart.••••
Promises•••
of love••••
That could••
tear you apart.••
Though you•••••
look to•••••••••••
The light of day.••••••
Listen carefully••••••••
To what I'm about to say.•••
I may be the one••••••••••
Who'd grace your thoughts••••
all day and night.•••••••••••••
But I implore you•••••••••••••••
to look past tomorrow••••••••••••••
Into the future that's out of sight.•••••••
You are ready to carve••••••••••••••••
Ever so recklessly,••••••••••••••••••
In your heart and thoughts•••••••
And in the words•••••••••
of your poetry.••••••••
But know that•••••••
These sweet nothings•
you chose to lay,•••••
Right now are•••••••
mere words••••••••••
With the intention•••••••
to sway.••••••••••••••••••
I feel the urge•••••••••••••••
To painfully declare.••••••••••
I feel the need••••••••••••••
To tell you what••••••••••
I've longed to bare.••••
That I'm not•••••••••••••
remotely interested,•••••••••
Nor am I taken in.•••••••••••
For your words•••••••••••••
have gone around••••••••••
I know where•••••••••
they've been...••••••
Should've revised••
your material•••••
Before trying•••••
on another...•••••
Because you••••
had conveyed••
the same•••••
to my sister!
Oh snap!

Best viewed on Apple iOS.
Tommy Randell Oct 2016
I am the Poet Refugee
Now living in a world of Prose
Accepted yes to some degree
But never quite sure of my role.

Should I be the way I was made
Speaking in metaphor and rhyme
Or must I give in to the page
Ruled by its adherence to lines?

May I speak out in an attempt
To urge us to be reconciled?
We Poets offer no dissent
To justify being so defiled

Always to be read with a sneer
Not given the due we are owed
That whenever a Poet is near
Truth will be camouflaged with code.

Ever to be judged out of turn
An object of pity and fun
Looked down at with frequent concern
Poems may be suicide bombs.

You want Poets locked up in books
Kept in churches not out of doors
But that is where logic gets stuck
In the fight of rhythm and words.

We're the same Poets and Writers
We both say what needs to be said
Both to ourselves and to others
Without us meaning would be dead

Without us there would be no songs
Graffiti to make Peace not War
And it really wouldn't take long
To wonder what Language was for.
I wanted to write about refugees and immigrants, although I am not one. I wanted to write about being a poet who isn't mainstream or modern, on the outside? Why is poetry still a novelty in this world?
josie Dec 2018
something in my soul tells me
that I was made for the night
not like some supervillain
no, like this is my time
to just be

the night pulls me
to a life that's not mine
but one I'd love to live

I'm made for it,
I think
or something in my bones
tells me that I am

I can't quite describe
what exactly it is,
but I think it goes
something like this

neon lights in a dark room
genuine laughter
a big city swallowing me whole
reminding me how tiny I am
but in a good way
you're not insignificant
you're part of this huge world

no panic and fear
no constant ache in your chest
that tells you
the monster is just behind you

just living
wouldn't that be something?
Caio Consoli Mar 2018
In a Strike
Lightning in Dice
I'm no Psych
Just a Mice
~
With a Slice
Be the Treasure
There's no Rice
But whole Pleasure
~
It's a Measure
To be Safe
Y'all Immature
Learn to Strafe
~
You a Wafe
Me a Pure
This is Chafe
I am Sure
~
See is Azure
Trust my Gut
The must Alure
Who can Cut

~

Battle will Begin
Their's no Mercy
Who can Win
With no Trirsty
~
Don't be Nasty
Ships will Fire
They are Classy
Like a Choir
~
With no Tire
We will Roll
Do not Retire
That's out Goal
~
Burn the Soul
Fight with Urge
Do your Role
Let's Purge
~
We won't Merge
Enemy is tricky
To the Verge
Give them Hickey.
Pirates
Deb Jones Feb 18
He didn’t seem threatening, yet I had spent six months fighting the urge to trust him. At one time, I’d inherently trusted people, but experience is the best teacher, and even the most trusting child, with enough provocation, can grow into an adult who’s always wary—even as she hides behind open smiles and friendly conversation.

Trust
So easily broken. So wickedly hard to repair.
Deep the scars of iron bars
when oft we're laid so low
young or old, scared or bold
light takes time
too grow
~TF
Tommy Randell Jul 2017
The typeface of our lives,
The letter shapes and spaces,
They reveal by turn the motives
Of our pauses, and our graces  -

We become our Alphabets,
Poetry is how we are known,
For each of us our analects,
How we flesh ourselves on the bones -

Each of us is a Mother Tongue,
A font, a calligraphy of memes,
Yet every page of verse is an extinction
In a natural selection of themes -

We Poets, knowing our pens are slickest,
Our Poems and all we create
We hope each one is the fittest
But, we abandon each one to its fate -

We Poets, our Poems,
This notorious continuance in action,
This carnal and passionate urge
To imprison Life and its Truth in redaction.

Tommy Randell 27th July 2017
Kara Jean May 2016
I have an urge to write words that make the soul cry
Weep tears of enlightenment
To summarize my life in a paragraph
No more body criticism, snipping my spaghetti straps
Running in a stumbled line away from confinement
Forgetting the word comprise
Reality takes a stand reminding me, who will be the mediocre house wife
Instead of making a dramatic exit, I drink whiskey and the world has plenty
fukk May 14
When you are near
i can feel my body degrading.
i have the urge to rip my skin off with my finger nails
i have the urge to tuck myself into a ball and hide in the comfort of my own arms
i have the urge to pinch my wrists till i feel my pulse-rate through my veins while i bleed.

when you are near
i can feel my whole body flaming.
when i breath, i feel my chest physically burning
every breath feels as if there is a volcano inside me that is about to erupt
my body begins to shut down leaving only agony.

The ache that bolts through my broken body builds up so much that when i saw you again across the street, my body froze.
the thought of you making me feel vulnerable once again got me to my knees crying on the pavement while others stand around observing me as if was the one in the wrong.

i have been getting memories of you once again. i feel unsafe leaving the house. i watch my surroundings every second getting ready to run.

Its hard to remember clearly but i can never forget the way you looked at me. Your eyes peeling away the layers of my clothing waiting for me to obey word by word. I for one couldn't understand what was happening. i stayed clueless for a long time; only shock and fear were the emotions i could understand... especially the times where you threatened and abused me.

the emotional and physical pain you have put me through has **** the innocent girl that once lived here. now there is a woman with cuts and cracks on her body. a woman who cry's herself to sleep almost every night. a woman who wonders what it is like to not have anxiety attacks 4 times a week.
sorry this a bit personal but i just needed to put it out there in case there were anyone else who is going through the same thing so they know that they arent alone. i may not be a good writer but i got my story out and honestly when i went through this, i didnt know this happened to millions of other little girls and boys so i felt so alone and different and that made me feel so scared.

im not special but i just hope everyones alright and also writing about my problems help me out so yea :]
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