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eliana 1h
I beg to you.
I cry to you.
I wait for you.
Do you even care?
Are you even listening?
I mean i've been getting closer to you more than ever.
I've been doing better for you. For me. For my family.
But hey,

Not ever your best is enough.
seems like ive been waiting the longest, waiting so **** patiently for God to give me a miracle, a blessing. Instead my whole world is falling down and i cant save it. im not sure i wanna write poetry rn im struggling to be alive and i have no motivation. sorry , im not sure when ill come back.
1.

diversion from life          
     sit  in a darkened room  
watch the movie
like you view your own dreams
    maturing  into the night

2.

go outside and watch reality  with mistrust
meaning seems the daylight
tinkers with us all
our experiences differ in manner
we're individual as ingestors

3.

be invested in by fictional materials
     with the same manner  
you are viewed    by your dreams at night
experiences of your 'day life'
                                        turned in like reports
"Don't try to find meanings or fill yourself with whys, watch the film like you watch your dreams at night."
- Ju Liana
someone said,
“at least now you can heal.”
but healing feels
like folding laundry
for a house that’s half empty
and pretending it’s enough
GS 3d
Another meaningless day, disrupted by a stirring action,
Or maybe stillness and passiveness carry more meaning.
Chasing eternal ideas, we neglect pressing matters.
Drunk with high ideals, we dismiss those closest to us.
We pour our strength into chasing the true path,
and live in a future that never arrives.
When today flew away, leaving no chance to mend broken pieces,
only the bitter taste of anxiety over the unattainable
and regret for what was left undone remain by our side.

I remember that evening like it was just a month ago
Almost night, the shadows of trees around us,
and our hands locked together.
Time stopped on the clock for a moment.
Like a fish thrown onto the shore,
We couldn’t handle the scale of this new life.
Suffocating under overwhelming feelings,
with no air left inside us.

I close my eyes,
and scenes from the past flash by like an old movie reel.
An apartment block,
a courtyard with iron football goals,
one ball for two teams.
How happy we were in those days,
when our pockets were empty
and our hearts free of envy and rivalry.
I close my eyes, and only one question lingers:
When did we lose our feelings in a flood of meaningless worries?
The water in my well is deeper and no longer bitter.

The river of life flowing into me and flowing out from me is no longer just a trickle in a sunbaked riverbed.

No matter how long
and hard the
journey has been

I take back what I lost
I take back what I wasted
and I take back what
was taken from me
whilst locked in a universally
human functionalized social
and spiritualized trance.

I take back my hope!
I take back my faith!
I take back my peace!
I take back my joy!
I take back what
was taken from me!!!
Pouya 14h
Woke up floating today,
Pulled in different directions.
My mind — a restless sea.
A storm is coming
to wash away the silence.
Perhaps one day we will rise from the deepening pits of penniless bad manners, of deliberately provoked wild-**** Tahoeism, into which we were pushed primarily by more famous, word-wielding people as a kind of primitive, bargain-making, compromising corduroy. We will jump up like the hopping, modest grasshoppers from the watery, swamp-smelling puddles of assertion. One day we will safely jump to our feet from the webs of everyday propagandistic lies, in which we have been lying increasingly indifferently and sluggishly for many decades now;

We listened to the pleasant yet utterly false and ambiguous words of "the fence will be made of sausages" and how we had to constantly mock sports, because anyone with just a single, unnecessary lump of fat or a crackling fat-snag is not worthy of being friends with or accepted as a human being. Whoever said "what is in their heart is in their mouth" was first given a deliberately reduced salary increase, later his invisible bonus, cafeteria, and vacations that only existed on paper, and later they just beat the poor unfortunate man in the face with a broken jaw or two.

Maybe we'll get up one day, if we don't just lie there quietly, if we've had enough of the fast-acting brainwashed rascals who have reduced us to - we're often at the point where, with the push of a single nuclear red button, even professional magicians can make half the world disappear, just because the interests of the great powers demand it.

We'll rather repaint the hypocritical posters of cynical, skeptical poster forests into some kind of still-life-scented idyll, where, with an idyllic mood, everyone down to the last human being can be happy and satisfied at any time; later, we can proudly, perhaps with a shrug of the shoulders, make the secrets public, so that the newly objectified facts, actions, and consequences can be researched by the wellheads of future ages who want to think!
Close your eyes and stop breathing
Hold your breath until you burst causing the racing world to stop.
Listen, listen close, put your ear to the ground
Do you hear that? The sounds of the world have silenced.

All you hear is the steady thumping of you heart
All you feel is your arteries pumping blood throughout your body.
Open your eyes and come back, plant yourself into the world you live in
Don't fly away into the unknown abyss that tries to take you from reality.

You need to ground yourself like a freshly sprouted plant that's trying to survive its first downpour.
Ground yourself like a boulder in the rapid currents, ground yourself like a bird in a storm.
If you don't succeed, you will keep falling.
falling and falling until you cant climb back up.

Close your eyes, breathe.
Breathe in the smells of your old house and the dust that filters the air.
This is your life, open your eyes to the reality you are in.
Phia 1d
Please,
Share your reasons to get up in the morning
Share your reasons
For staying
Cazzie 1d
She was once the ink of poems.
Now, she is the blot that bleeds
Through every page I try to keep clean.
A mirror I simply cannot trust;
As its fragile glass that always screams when held.
I bear the weight of two homes.

I recline in a chair of brittle oak,
Fashioned from fragments of lost endeavor.
Cloaked in silence, the air itself awoke,
Bearing whispers, dust-bound forever.

His hands no longer chart unknown seas,
The maps of youth long frayed and worn.
Quiet tomes rest like sleeping trees,
Pages hushed in binding shorn.

Through glass, dim twilight bleeds regret,
Ivory panes painted pale with grief.
Garments draped in sorrows set,
Each clasp marks memories brief.

Hours drift, strangers to his face,
Dust spins unsure, in circles slow.
Garbed in remnants of lost grace,
In one exhausted body.
A pair of shoes that never rest.
A heart that negotiates treaties
With broken logic and manic thunder,
Just to keep the child from hearing
How close the sky is to falling.

She does not know of gratitude.
Only gravity.
She does not fold laundry;
She folds reality
To fit her comfort,
While I bleed time into corners,
Hoping peace grows like moss
Where no light reaches.

And Still…
I do NOT break.
I am really in a bad place right now. I can accept that this is really create with just feeling instead of rational thought
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