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Depths of despair
Hang thick in the air
Almost daring me to care
And step into it's crosshair
Not realizing I'm aware
I've lived that nightmare
Been caught up in that snare
Somehow pushed past the warfare
Came through worse for wear
But it no longer has power
Over someone who can't care
Forcing it to find it's next victim elsewhere

©2024
Jeremy Betts Apr 17
Everyone thinks,
"It'll get easier when I get older"
Then you get older
And you find no one's there,
No one to share,
No one to say,
"Hey,
I stay because I care"
Or
"Let's get through this together"
Making it harder than ever before
Not wanting to remember
Not even a single chapter
Though at one point,
When I was younger,
I think I use to matter

©2024
Jeremy Betts Apr 14
A Hard Knock alum, not permitted to blossom
No one ever there who'd care to clarify "how come?"
Deep down, in the depths of my heart shaped chasm,
I know what's about to come in is the inevitable outcome
That I forgot to remember I was still and forever running from
Or,
More likely
Subconsciously, finally and fully drained, exhausted and done
This was not that much fun

©2024
Jeremy Betts Apr 13
Rivers of raging air and water
Coming together
To blaze their own trail almost without a care
Leaving the landscape in it's wake bare
Life's shatter
Right or fare, doesn't matter
The scare of it happening again is always right there
The horror of mother nature
Right around the corner
But truthfully,
I should finally be clear
It's the other type of mother,
And a lack of nurture,
That's the main factor
I've pretended,
Tried to blend in,
For many moons plus a year,
It's not a natural disaster
It's...
...it's tears
Ones that've carved ruts down my ****** veneer
As they veer through the unstable atmosphere
That I can't steer through,
Landing me here
On the shore
With only my pride and fear
And an SOS,
That I guess,
Doesn't come across as sincere

©2024
Zywa Mar 30
The neighbours have left,

their garden is drying out --


now I water it.
Novel "Gebied 19" ("Area 19", part of the visual cortex in the brain, 2023, Esther Gerritsen), chapters 1-1, 1-2, 1-8

Collection "Stream"
Zywa Mar 16
Better not to count

on society or God --


Provide for supplies.
Novel "Two Years Eight Months & Twenty-Eight Nights" (which is 1001 nights, 2015, Salman Rushdie), chapter 2 "Mr Geronimo"

Collection "Low gear"
selina Feb 28
someone i know was stuck in singapore
when her father passed away in china
and lately, i think i've developed a fear
of flying, but for all of the wrong reasons

so while others' stomachs perform flips and
all the engines and babies incessantly whine
and while someone worries about their own death
i sit, wholly at peace with the possibility of mine

but still terrified for everything after you drop me off
i am so terrified to just board this plane and fly away
every time i have to turn and leave home again
i am terrified it will be the last time i see your face
selina Feb 28
according to einstein, time is relative
and by the law of jumping to conclusions
this means our lives are inconsequential

so technically, i could spend a forever in jail, or
you could spend a couple years in a hospital bed
and nothing would really matter all

relative to me, however,
one of these situations would be bearable
and the other not so much

i can live with my dumb decisions
like driving too fast for too long or
even ****** for a righteous cause, too

i can survive my self-destructive tendencies
but my world centers itself around you
a sister piece to "happiness (& related theories)"
selina Feb 28
while all the folks will be off beach-drinking
at ***** cana, or cartagena, or hiking through
a coast and helicoptering blindly into canyons,

i just want to be at home, cooking for you,
studying up new recipes, because i know you
pretend to like my chinese takes on western food

a little more than you actually do; you want me
to be happy, but my happiness stems from your
healing health and your returning appetite, so know:

a smile on your face and a happily-emptied plate
would beat the pride of reaching any himalayan peak
and warm my heart more than any southern sun or beach
a sister piece to "relativity (& related theories)"
If I were a painter
Every day, I know,
I'd paint you in colors,
Which will always glow.

If I were a sculptor
Working all alone,
I'd carve you a statue
From a precious stone.

If I were a potter
Bent over the wheel
I'd knead your soft body
With the greatest zeal.

If I were an angel
From the starry sky
I'd make you immortal
With my holy eye.

Yet, I'm just a plain man
With an honest view,
I can do no other,
But to care for you.
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