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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 :]
Negra Nov 2015
The worst thing
Is nothing.
No substance
No anger
No heat
No peace
No sadness
No joy
No melancholy
No nostalgia
No urge to do that thing
No flow with ease
Split Jun 2018
I'm confused
on how I feel.
why I feel.
how I should feel.
and how to feel.

60 minutes on 60 minutes
should've been on could've been
1,440 minutes of numb eyes
on pointless screens

my heart now beats to simply beat
no motivation towards a passion
no passion to propel a motivation

my fresh flesh decays
beneath acidic tears
that crawl out of me
like termites with a notion
of my poison

my urge to improve is deeply missed
back when my heart was the sun
a star that gave a tomorrow
but all I have is right now
a still moment full of sorrow
Cindra Carr Dec 2012
I lusted today.
It was that deep, down urge.
I stretched and moaned
Without even thinking.
It felt good to think it.
I wanted it hard enough
And got reprimanded for it.
That harsh ‘don’t do that’
Was spoken quickly in my ear.
I couldn’t help it.
I knew it’d feel good.
Inadvertent as the groan was,
It still felt good.
I knew he wanted it too.
He just couldn’t right then
And it made me want it even more.

©cc122612
Cress Rosario Jun 2014
I used to draw an angel when I was young
Imagining that she was flying so high
A little girl with wings same as hers
Following the angel everywhere
The little girl keeps on flying
Quickly, eagerly, ambitiously
A strong wind strikes the girl
Causing her to nearly fell

She looked where the angel was
She sees nothing but dust
From dust is a shadow of a bird
A sweet soft voice speaks in her head
"Don't cry, just keep on trying,
Fly high, soar high, don't stop on dreaming."
The girl got the urge flying back to the sky
The angel flew with her with pleasing smile

As I look closely on my drawing
I was the little girl, wandering
Infront was the graceful angel
Telling me not to stop flying
Carter Ginter Dec 2012
A second choice
The back up plan
An "if she says no" second thought.
That's all I am to you.
And I wasn't even worth that
To her.
No, she wanted you.
And what was she to you?
A sideline play?
The same as I am now?
But to me she was far more than that
More than you gave her.
More than anyone ever did.
And now you hate her, she hates you too.
Shouldn't I hate her too?
I mean after all that's happened
It seems only right.
But I'm more uncomfortable with you
For hurting her now.
She remains in my thoughts,
A haunting memory.
I'll still feel the urge to protect her
Though I laugh when you joke about her,
I know I'll feel it later.
The guilt that I could witness her last breath.
That I may cause it.
I couldn't find a way to save her,
Now I can't save you either.
So I'll drown on my own
In the pain
in the memories
in my head
With no one left to save me.
Carter Ginter Jun 2013
I heard the buzz of the phone on my desk,
While I lay in bed but can't resist the urge to check;
Thought it'd be my mom or my friend again,
Even after having goodnights sent.
Should have known it'd be you,
So out of the blue.
I read your words so bright in the dark,
And tonight that's all they are:
Words, words, and empty somethings.
Not tonight sweetheart, it's worth about nothing.
Because if you're going to add fuel to the flames,
In the end don't expect not to feel the pain.
When the fire turns back on you, it's yours
Because I won't take your burns anymore.
Puissant piquant and predatory
And observant from afar
He looks down on your slumber
Like a door that's left ajar

Plying with his manly vice
A reckless male visage
A rogue of masculine device
Seeks entrance to your mind

He saunters with a swagger
A macho savvy moxie
To personify virility's incarnate
His dream zone's metier

He sifts your ****** entourage
In search of sprawls recumbence
To tantalize climactic fervor
With lambent photic scenes

Grasping at your revelries
He spies the wanton lust
With swanky strut appealing
Your primal urge to sate

He leaves undone resistance
With innate resilience seized
The lavish wayward implications
Of unrequited livid deeds

Like passion's lurid lecheries
An insatiable torrid sooth
You wrestle with his adamance
Your  carnal ecstasies revealed

You pounce on his exsertion
You splay your agile form
wriggling like a supple nymph
You accept his blatant storm

You writhe in your abandon
In a euphoric supplication
His machismo ****** enveloping
Your wildest latent needs

With no regrets or reticence
you awaken from this dream
To find yourself alone again
Like it had never been
I of we all create our own incubi and succubi and we should pay attention to their parameters
adorating Jan 22
I remember you
the smile, the laughter,
the tears, the sadness,
the thoughts, the stories,
I remember you

I remember us
skin drenched in sweats,
the white sheets of
my bed or yours,
us,
groaning, moaning,
longing, yearning,
darling,
I remember

I remember me
who once was just
someone with a
monotonous, dreary,
humdrum life
before you
happened,
love,
I remember

I remember everything
the sunflower that you gave me,
unlike any other man,
with their roses
or glorious necklace
a sunflower, it was,
darling,
as if you were
giving me sign,
I remember

I remember everything,
the door, it was made of wood
the ****, the classic
and old silver ****
the sound of how
it was being pulled
by your hand
Saturday night, it was, darling
you left me
you left me there
you left me there
alone
Kara Jean May 2016
The urge to feel guilty taunts your being
Contradiction fabricated to be easy
Calm an effortless nothing but emptiness  
Young doesn't come free
Excuse me, don't spill my drink
Confidence is a thin sliced arrogance  
Let the bold quake
The pass is always a day late
Step into the florescent light
Here the rumbling crowded sky
A chant only stripped royalty earned
******* fantastic isn't learned
Kara Jean May 2016
Toughness is my warm gooey love
Isolation is the only defense I've developed
I keep reminding myself this is it
My passion never existed
An urge deep frying my mind
My fingers tingling
My heart throbs
My throat suffocating
The words telling me to discontinue have melted into sweet nothings
I'm a *** drive with no destination
A complicated disastrous women
My feet turned to charcoal long ago
I haven't blink in a lifetime
My burnt sunglasses situated against my broken nose
My high waisted skirt accentuates my fate
Perfect, is a pretty ******* explicit world to create
Please no holding the insane
Back away slowly
She's always hoping to bite
Taking chunks of your pride
LAICEY Aug 2017
Our every word that comes out
has the potential to **** when
your seemingly fragile but villainous
lips caresses my weaponed tongue
encouraging the venomous noise to be
reborn again and again.
Soft yet viscious touch.
I demand for more.
I urge for attention.

Patience is running thin!

I never even looked away from the
light in your eyes
but you were watching my entire flesh
rot in the colours you gave me.
Dead.
When you left, all went dark
for the light in your eyes were just
fires that burned too bright
and couldn't last.
It was then
when I was standing all alone
in the black hole you helped me create,
the one that ****** away everything I loved,
I realized that I was colourblind,
that your touch and your words
were bleach that sunk into my core,
leaving me only in black and white.
~ part 2 ~
this is the second half of a two-piece poem,
this is how the masterpiece ends.

"Masterpiece" and "Colourless" can be read as two entirely separate poems, however, they were originally written all in one poem but due to further alterations, they were suited to be split in two.
© 2015/17 August LAICEY Poems
Paul Hansford Jul 2016
Over the years, I taught so many classes
in many different schools,
long-term or short.
Hundreds and hundreds of  students,
all ages, three to eighteen years old.

But how could I remember all of them?
I was the teacher; they were there to learn.
Those were our roles; that was the contract.
They would move up and I move on, for all of us
always a new beginning.
                                           But now and then
one will return to haunt me, like the girl
whose secret tiny friend, Little Mister Hansford,
drove a red plastic car.
I keep it now, in my drawer,
and remember.

The boy, his skin
flaking and cracked with eczema, trying to resist
the urge to scratch, but always failing.
How could he bear to wake each day to face that life?
Yet I was proud he claimed me for his brother;

On a school exchange visit,
another girl, seventeen,  
crossing the Alps in a coach,
moved beyond tears
by her first sight of real mountains.

Do they remember?
Maybe they do. A young man I met by chance
one day on a Spanish street
surprised me by recalling
how I read Winnie-the-Pooh when he was small,
and did the animals in different voices.

So many children, so many years have gone,
but memories, like love, can linger on.
"He do the police in different voices" was the original title of T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land".
K Balachandran Feb 2014
Inebriated blue cloud,
I know you well enough
libertine ways you have
make you a lover of
deep thunder and meek rainbow
and also a chit of a lark
that loses itself in a song
be it is in grief or mirth.

Strange is the ways of my heart,
how much I long to fall in love with you
and proclaim this to the world scheming
to disrupt the pleasures one seeks
without any reason at all
"Look! love has no limits, no reason even
the lovely cloud, softness personified
caresses my foliage with sensuous abandon
kisses me with her wispy lips of moisture"

I know you understand, though unmindful of
my unbridled passion
making breaches in the limits,
I have no illusion about our improbable union.
True, how can we live
happily ever after?
I envy your gift of wings
though you have none visible,
you borrow it from the wayward wind,
too willing to carry your sweet load around.

I stood on the hill top,
wistfully thinking
that you will come and
take me within your soft folds
though I am a tree with deep running roots
that has become a restraining thing.

Freedom without any limit
gets you inebriated every minute,
your love for love,  makes you desirable
you live in the present, suspend thoughts on time to come
as it is hypothetical, you say.
You are in a hurry to roam
wherever lovers lead you one after the other
do you have an urge to dissolve and pour-
as water, without any remorse?

Do you know my  penitence for your love
on this hilltop is a true sacrifice?
My love for you doesn't bring anything
except my wilting hour after hour.
Let me be on your blue breast for moments
when my boiling love will seek
your shining center that melts, melts
we'd freeze as one, how long my darling?
Time would simply stand still
to a distance, i'd be transported,
where tree or cloud means nothing
we are an incessant rain lasting for ever.
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