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#writerscreed
imperiallefty · 10 minutes ago
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If my words don't make your lungs collapse than I'm not speaking loud enough. Come to me with your wearying dreams and let me make you a whole human.
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env0writes · 13 minutes ago
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NaPoWriMo 16. Suburbanoia
Kids laugh and pass me by Rollerskates and boards with plates Broken sidewalk squares let these skaters fly Dandelion cracks formed from earthquakes
Suburban setting suns hang to light the streetlights Stretch the day over cherry roses Passerby cars, my shooting star wishes aren’t quite, The crescent moons neighbors I know is
Concrete blocks and squares underfoot Hounded by crows at each blot of blue Why can’t I cross train tracks the city has put, Where the pathways lead me to
I’m scared they’ll sweep me far away Townhome rows and winding roads To gridiron bumpers and scraping towers pay Scraping by until society corrodes
Where kids won’t laugh and pass me by On struggling skates that screech too late The path may be broken, now we reach the sky Dandelion blows will carry my shooting star wishes far from this state
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robertjw4688 · 25 minutes ago
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Pessimism rises from
the grave of
my mind.
It shakes off
dirt and builds a
throne from
obsolete technology.
I am
invisible in the
process, isolated
and shunned.
It's only a
bad day, I
tell myself; the
birds are
sick and
refuse to
sing the morning.
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kiramalibu · an hour ago
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i see no reason to be holy
if my sacred body is used
as their battle ground
i prefer the silence but i’d be
damned if i ignore the howling
from these crowds
because i’ve never heard cries this loud
i see my people grieving
on both sides of this town
and it’s getting harder to
believe in the divine
when the color of my skin
is treated liked a crime
we’re running out of time
and if He is the almighty, then he should
be here to make it right
blm, 04/16
kira malibu
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imperiallefty · an hour ago
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My heart is on the edge of cutting into two. When the sun rises again we will find truth.
Ask no more questions and tell no more lies.
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tinysupergiant · an hour ago
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The misapprehension of the Night Thief
He pulls up before the dead of morning,
wheels as round as dinner plates, and eyes
full of a beggar’s belief.
There is a long road behind him;
he’s spent all the time he had
to get here and now he arrives,
like a stopped watch,
empty.
“Why does the sun keep on shining?”
sings the voice, freed
to fill his tin shell, as the car engine
cuts and the courtesy light shines
down.
Why indeed.
He opens the door and the light
goes out.
A fox or a cat watches from behind a wall
and their game escapes.
A person in their bed stirs (it might’ve been you)
and a security light blinks on.
Why has he come?
To steal hooded looks into darkened doorways?
To wake the birds who’ve been
for too long
silent?
To hold court here in the speechless street
where the skull faced houses of this
neighbourhood crypt
hold their breath, and dreams
snake in and out
through their lidless windows?
No. He has come here to steal
the night;
take it upon his shoulders
and walk away, as his heroic figure,
under the heart of the moon,
wades silently into
the blood
of the morning star.
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justslowlywritingitall · an hour ago
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what is good poetry but bad poetry my eyes chase yours across the room and the words follow speechless every time
what is good poetry but your hands warming mine summer nights dew on grass and my lipstick smudged lips all smiles
what is good poetry but the sound of your laugh and how hard it is to define googling what does it mean that you make me so calm
what is good poetry but us
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aaronawbra · 2 hours ago
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Tyrannicalsaurus Rex
There’s a Tyrannicalsaurus Rex in my closet.
He’s in there and he wants to eat humanity.
He’s gonna get out at some point.
He definitely needs to be dealt with,
but it’s just easier to keep the door shut.
Maybe I can starve him out?
problem solved right 🤷‍♂️
That’s unlikely, apparently he’s fed recently.
I must find the courage to meet him
face to teeth, mano e mano - on my terms.
But just how does one kill
the Tyrannicalsaurus Rex anyway?
Napoleon 🧨 prefers the shotgun
for wolverines, Houston we have a problem;
The shotgun is in the closet. 🤔
Maybe I could make friends with him, but
If that doesn’t work it’s definitely one & done,
and I don’t think Tyrannicalsaurus Rex’s
make reliable pets.
What if I open the door
and abandon the house,
T finds nothing to eat, wanders out
hopefully to cohabitate with someone else.
Problem is he’s already in every other house.
There’s a Tyrannicalsaurus Rex
in your closet too.
Keep the door closed, don’t confront him,
turn Netflix up real loud, and
maybe he’ll just disappear, or maybe
you’re already about half eaten up
and just don’t know it yet.
AAB 2021
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sassoonery · 2 hours ago
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If the chucky doll tried to attack me
I would simply kick him away—
I have spent too long fearing,
Spinning, shrinking myself small-small,
Hiding, raveled and unraveled and re-raveled
Into flimsy bits; braiding my own backbone,
I taste steel in the air now, and better than before,
I know; my legs are here for more than lying down.
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blackbeanspoetry · 3 hours ago
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Want the full poem? Check out more of my work here
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reincarnated-trash · 3 hours ago
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Sweet boy,
what did I ever do
to deserve you?
You take care of me,
you look at me with awe.
You see my flaws
and still think
they’re the most
beautiful things in the world.
Somehow you understood
all the pain and
all the anger.
Immediately I knew
that you were meant
for me. So now, I look
at you in wonder
knowing that you
are by my side
forever.
I love you.
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imperiallefty · 3 hours ago
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Floodgates
I couldn't tell whether or not my heart was holding back memories or being held back by them.
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disruptivebychoice · 3 hours ago
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4/13/2021
Whispering from the quiet parts of my mind I hear the truth, or what can only be the reasonable explanation for this tragedy. This isn’t a normal one at that either, it’s far more complex. I’d compare it to a lover but as I, where the windows of the soul were opened and tried, a war was had and I gave it everything; every part of me until I lost the person I was entirely. Like I became this different person, transforming into another human because all I could do was love but it wasn’t for me, it was to be against me. To never be okay, because breathing was only for the concept of breathing, to stay alive but holding onto my breath to survive because the pain is that sickening. So, I leave it to the monsters that I’ve kept hid inside to devour it over time, it hurts and feels like I’m being taken over by the haunting and a ghost appears for flashes at a time, like on a lens where a video is taken and you see just a ray of white, a passing of smoke or darkness and it flashes, only to leave quickly because the burden of understanding something like the paranormal within myself would darken the light I’ve held onto; it would mean there’s something else that resides, that lives and has created a home in my mind as if it were theirs to claim… but then I realize I’ve given these monsters the life as they fed. I couldn’t admit it, rather I didn’t want to admit the reality of what I know… the belief that an inner being, another human could be inside of me, and be so manipulative, so wrong and daunting causing physical pains and sensations that had me begging, pleading, screaming…. To the point of threatening, threatening myself with self harm until the day I actually tried it. It relieved the craving to feel something that only I caused physically to myself, rather than what caused me physicality’s I’d rather not get into. I no longer feel desire to do this, maybe because now I know that pain is pain no matter how it plays out and its just not worth blood that stains.
What I find as the saddest part, is that I’m still trying to cover up who this really is about, comparing it to a lover and a ghost that is both me at the same time, but isn’t… instead is exactly the way I’ve worded it in the literal sense, not just as a metaphorical lover, but a real one that now haunts my dreams as the ghost that resides alongside me. And again, I think about typing his name, but that would be more damaging than just trying to forget; proceeding to pretend that it’s me who’s deserving of regret.
Instead of just realizing the harshness of how parts of him became me and still cause disruption plainly, so I tell myself as if it were and has only been me this entire time. Even still. Because life continues to try me and try me again as if I’m standing on trial and he’s set as the only participator in a jury. Dictating whether what it is I do is wrong or right, or telling me to change, or blatantly telling me I’m not a woman, and I’ll never amount. So, I make the issue seem simplistic, shaming who I am instead of who I loved. But it was him and it has been all along. He maintains this monstrosity to the deepest parts of me, and I still mask it claiming it as a comparison to someone I once loved as if it weren’t the truth… but misfortune knows it is.  
I call him, him… the him I neglect since letters of his name can’t seem to find this page. I’ve dealt with this process through ways of retreat as I pull back tears and live presently. Reminding myself constantly what it is I am doing right this second, not a minute before or what I will do later; at least I try to. It reminds me where I am, that I’m safe and that I’m here. It’s the only way I know how to accept what is in a slow manner, where thoughts are lingering, but not quite shoved to the surface because I have to do this quietly. I have to understand what is actually the disguise by acknowledging it, but brushing it away as imagination because it’s easier that way, and the rather is too much. So maybe, emotionally numbing is called a crutch, but maybe it’s saved my life from where I could have gone. I won’t lie, I know more than I admit, I play dumb to myself, and I literally mean myself now. It’s not that I do this to be someone I’m not, it means I know my limits. I used to claim the limitless concept as my own, that no one could bring me down or hurt me, but I’ve been hurt and I’m still hurting. It doesn’t mean I’m incapable or trying to be someone I’m not, it just means that sometimes being me is too much. I feel more than others, insanity’s role takes its toll on me every day in a new way; and I find myself exhausted at 6 pm because I’m tired of pulling out the light within me that keeps me breathing, because without it there is no air I want to breath. Numbing might be a crutch, but it saves me slowly, quickly, and sometimes at a moment’s notice from losing my light entirely. I think it’s called faith, this feeling of having the courage to carry on when everything explains to me its best to run. I want to, but I fight. Because if I don’t fight, I lose it all… I lose my light.
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kidgillis · 4 hours ago
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Your love opened old wounds & triggered supressed emotions. It dug up my surface & made me face the skeletons that I had buried. I was being uprooted, which wasn't a bad thing. Your nuturing, interest, commitment, love & emotion helped me to grow. I am thankful, to say the least.
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lyricsbylittle · 5 hours ago
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IS IT JUST ME?
I was close enough to touch but not close enough for you to read my mind I believed in you - perhaps I still do I was so close to reach the bottom line but not that close to see us part I believed in you - perhaps I still do
All the senses mean nothing at the moment We say goodbye ending a wonderful story
Is it just me?
I was close enough to see the stare but not close enough to see it longs for her I believed in you - what if I still do? I was so close to figure this out but not that closed, I let you break my heart I believed in you - what if I still do?
All the words you say Will not stop this ache
Is it just me?
Is it all in my head? Am I crazy for believing that you could change I believed in you but you didn't believe in me and the love I gave all you did was take, take, take... so take it just one more time make me believe you could’ve been mine.
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spinningjupiters · 8 hours ago
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// not yet //
When life slowly started fading in your mind. When today became a shadow and the present just a haze. When the past became crystal clear. Some consolidated memories replayed themselves over and over till you talked about them till no end. When you started to forget your way home. When the streets no longer seemed familiar. And the weather outside was always 'raining'. When you spoke so little but thought a lot. Thought about how to respond. So wittingly hid behind humor. An anecdote to pacify our raging hearts. How could it be? But for the longest time it was. And it seemed to just settle in like routine. Till it became so usual that it became impossible to know what was before.
Till now.
Till the day you left us. I only remember you as the person you were before your mind started giving up on you. The sound of BBC news on television early in the morning. Scent of porridge for your breakfast with freshly sliced apples. You would ask us to sit with you and cut some more for each of us. Your punctual routine. Lunch before zuhr and fluff rotis brought by nano one after the other. And as you set off, a never ending list of things we asked you to get for us. Never did you tell us no. Not once did you fail to bring it. You spoke little but with great reverence of the world. Always preaching tolerance and being so thoroughly groomed. You never spoke to anyone with disrespect. Taking us out on drives. Doing errands. Never tiring. The machine kept running. Seeing your gels and aftershaves in your restroom. Always well kept. Reading the first ever poem I wrote. Telling me I should give people hope. And then..
There's this memory. Of you leaving us and being away. Of seeing you debilitate into nothing. Hoping and praying you're not alone and in pain anymore. That its been raining ever since the graveyard forever beholds your soul. That on the other end you walk with ease, and talk with presence, there's a spark in your eyes, a wit in your conversations, and a never ending peace in your heart. That you make a home in heaven and wait for us there. Till we are together, one day.
Not yet.
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poetlegit · 8 hours ago
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A poet should never miss the opportunity to rhyme.
poetry quotes.
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