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"worthlessly" poems
When did I detach myself from the current of reality, eternally fused to the nothingness that awaits us? To become a slave of dreams and machinations. When did I become another heartbeat, longing for fantasies of love, only to find the anguish that comes from human desire. Knowing that we are powerless to our fascinations. How many days go by, as we long to be remembered? For art, for name, for doing, for living only to reach the same end of obscurity. They call me a deconstructionist, a detester of life. But are we not worthlessly tied to this current of life? We are born with no concepts, no meaning, an echo of what is to come. & that same echo escapes us in the end.
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Sep 26, 2021
Sep 26, 2021 at 11:03 PM UTC
c̲u̲r̲r̲e̲n̲t̲
Sweats have turned blood My legs are weak Temporary turning me ******* I can no longer move Not a single step forward My sorrow overwhelming, consuming I've travelled alone, left alone Hopelessly helpless in my journey In this tunnel of depression I'm condemned to suffer forever But wait! I see something I can finally see the end of the tunnel from where I worthlessly lie Greeting me with a shiny light As bright as sun Light, they say is hope, assurance, intrepidity, life, end of darkness, new beginning... Help is here! The suffering is almost over The curse of an unending loneliness Is broken, perhaps Find me strength To drag myself once more To endure the pain one last time, hopefully Yes! Light! It brightens per each pace I move But what if it is a train approaching? What if it's only a figment of my imagination? Just like the last time - countless times It makes things worse each time, quite deceptive And yet, it feels, like them all
0
Jun 11, 2021
Jun 11, 2021 at 4:17 AM UTC
Depression (The unending end)
Disturbed in my every step, Made me feel like I was in debt, Weight of this world seemed too great, So I walk away and try to create, A place to calm down, for me and the one, But you brake the bounds and make it all gone It makes my soul sick to hear your words, As you worthlessly speak, only that you may afford, In darkness, bearing death banners, Such ****** and unholy, I turned into you slowly, This way you woke up a beast inside of me, It looks through my eyes and sees most ****** dreams My salvation has passed away, Left my soul open but without a word to say, Still I wasn't left all alone, Inside me, a pale mistress called Hope, She planted her roots in my mind, Telling lies like to the ones who are blind, Her essence was spilled inside of me, But my blood seeks to be pure and free
0
Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 11:48 AM UTC
Collision
Improperly inviting Mutually corrupt Soulfully repulsive Wickedly tempting Hesitantly falling Inadequately open Eagerly fearful Lovingly ready Sitting worthlessly Sulking desperately Thinking hatefully Hurting intimately Facing reality Clinging dreamily Losing stability Loving lonely
0
Dec 19, 2021
Dec 19, 2021 at 11:19 PM UTC
Life of Love
for many years I have dwelled as a prisoner of my own mind constructing a realm meant only to possess nothing, but my impenetrable cage I was just so very afraid I hid myself hid myself away away from the world that I could have known perhaps, the world I should have should have known... forever to remain camouflaged by the by the dark in shadows, deep hidden from others kept from the the sunshine's light kneeling in a dark corner while while I weep ...my rolling river's pained, murky waters... it was only only no one no one, but myself and my own heedless fears I, a captive??? restrained and tortured, tormented by a being who shows their face a familiar face every time I I look into her empty eyes as they gaze through abandoned, forsaken abyss into my own where I stand peering into my my destructive mirror... my innocence has has been stolen was ripped away by the hand the hand that belongs to me thrown into this this strangling cage this awful dungeon a captive soul made slave to my very own inner, quivering doubt forced to wallow in eternal blackness just as one one miserable, exhausted sad and dying one dying fool ... solely self- -created void... [ a prisoner who who resides within cold prison walls in another's cell that was made built up around the ground where their feet, first, stood fervently constructed with very, very very powerful efficient hands... ] eventually she'll meet her cold death-bed life's breath, wasted wasted, worthlessly away cruelty in her demise the conclusion her her own hands wrought meticulously designed her own personal damnation portal and just as her world while living she'd conquered nothing nothing, but her her dark, lonely tomb airless wasteland of timeless death...
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Oct 22, 2011
Oct 22, 2011 at 11:21 PM UTC
hands & eyes
for many years I have dwelled as a prisoner of my own mind constructing a realm meant only to possess nothing, but my impenetrable cage I was just so very afraid I hid myself hid myself away away from the world that I could have known perhaps, the world I should have should have known... forever to remain camouflaged by the by the dark in shadows, deep hidden from others kept from the the sunshine's light kneeling in a dark corner while while I weep ...my rolling river's pained, murky waters... it was only only no one no one, but myself and my own heedless fears I, a captive??? restrained and tortured, tormented by a being who shows their face a familiar face every time I I look into her empty eyes as they gaze through abandoned, forsaken abyss into my own where I stand peering into my my destructive mirror... my innocence has has been stolen was ripped away by the hand the hand that belongs to me thrown into this this strangling cage this awful dungeon a captive soul made slave to my very own inner, quivering doubt forced to wallow in eternal blackness just as one one miserable, exhausted sad and dying one dying fool ... solely self- -created void... [ a prisoner who who resides within cold prison walls in another's cell that was made built up around the ground where their feet, first, stood fervently constructed with very, very very powerful efficient hands... ] eventually she'll meet her cold death-bed life's breath, wasted wasted, worthlessly away cruelty in her demise the conclusion her her own hands wrought meticulously designed her own personal damnation portal and just as her world while living she'd conquered nothing nothing, but her her dark, lonely tomb airless wasteland of timeless death...
Continue reading...
101
In a dead baby’s eyes, chest no longer heaves, throat no longer cries, lies, dead, the choices of Humanity; Individual choice or Social vanity. And, either way, the way we go leads us to and leads us fro. When the last grave is filled; When the last enemy lies killed; When the last smoke from the last fire rises up and up and yet no higher; When the last tear is worthlessly shed; When the last lament is sung for the dead; When the valley of the shadow of death is no longer feared; When evil and good disappear into the past, bleared; Then and only then will time beat swords and plows to rust and leave the stage clear for whomever must stand triumphant, Adam and Eve, upon the stage Humanity left in a silent and useless rage. Lost, we did, the forest for the trees, blind to what a dead baby sees . . .
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
A Dead Baby’s Eyes
When we met everything was incredible Nothing ever stays the same Loved ones always change over time We have only ourselves to blame It is never easy to move on Never simple to let go It is hard to give you up because You are the only guy I really know It hurts so bad I cannot even explain How worthlessly empty you make me feel I want to wake up tomorrow And find out none of this is real
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Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 11:11 PM UTC
Only Ourselves
Words woven wordlessly and worthlessly. Effortlessly too, from the looks of it. Seemingly sorry Scarily serious Flippilantly fluctuating with free fluency Laughing lightly in between lies Truthful tales told time and time again Images embedded into eye sockets without care Waves of emotion weaving and waning in the worst (best) way Hopeful helping hands are only hardened by hurt Dark and deep the voice of the destroyed Unless light and laughing as they lie Truth be told, the times of old tell tales of torture, triumph, and tragedy through tradition and tears
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Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 6:43 PM UTC
Words Woven
Here, Here in the basement of my own sorrows and pities, I find no comfort from you. You, You say this is my fault; I havent changed and loved. Notice, Notice that your the reason I'm here, struggling and worthlessly waiting, for your approval.
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Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 11:17 AM UTC
January Blues.
flower petals; long dead scattered about my empty bed they symbolize the wilted love the shriveled heart the plucked feelings they lay as worthlessly as she feels to him nothing special to these petals the sad pedicel the crying pistil why did your flowers die as soon as they touched my hands
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Nov 28, 2019
Nov 28, 2019 at 2:14 AM UTC
AM 01:36
A growing pain takes over slowly Squeezing the breaths out of me Heart racing faster, my head is spinning Everything else has lost its meaning Now it’s only you, the ghosts of your hand Gripping my heart till I can’t stand Scaling my body, touching me slowly I forget your hands have never known me I forget that you weren’t ever mine But I spent my days looking for signs That maybe you loved me even just a bit And honestly, I even thought you did I was convinced you did but wasn’t sure of it yet That we had a connenction from the moment we met But I forget that you were always somebody else’s And I realized that it was not you, but I who felt the connection Yet I can’t help but hold on to the last stage of hope That maybe you only said you loved her just for show Maybe you say it because you feel it’s your duty Maybe you don’t really love her and instead love me But I’m tired of holding on to hope worthlessly I’m tired of waiting for you to love me Because I don’t want to be second choice not just an option I’m not a pit stop where you can periodically stop in I’m a woman, a storm, a chaotic mess The ocean, the skies contained in a dress And the hands that will take place of your ghost in me Will not grip my heart but help it beat
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Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 11:53 AM UTC
Your Ghost
when we met, everything was incredible. but nothing ever stays the same. our loved ones always change over time. we have only ourselves to blame. it is never easy to move on, and never simple to let go. it is hard to give you up because you are the only one i truely know. it hurts so bad; i cannot even explain how worthlessly empty you made me feel. but please, let me wake up tomorrow and find out none of this is real.
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Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 7:13 AM UTC
you are (gone)