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#poem thing
malfoypotterpoems · 2 months
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Got a notification from LinkedIn that my ex best friend had looked at my account and my heart broke a little.
I saw a picture of you today & could barely recognise you.
And all I wanted to do was call you & talk about it
I don’t regret us not being friends anymore, but damn I miss you, or not you,
but the person you were 7 years ago, the you who would believe me, would do anything to protect me, the person who thought I was more important than the “boys”
Not the guy who stabbed me in the back and kept twisting the knife
Not the women-hating guy you ended up as.
But the loving, gives the best back-scratches guy
You don’t even go by the same name anymore,
But I will forever know you as B.. even if you have deleted it from the internet.
Miss you or I guess not
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a prayer before bed
Remember that prayer?
The one we did before bed?
maybe i was just weak,
but i constantly think about it.
About all the little things of it 
every word ingrained into my soul,
a soul, that lost its light some time ago
and the prayer constantly sings in it.
Well, i’m going to say it one more time
perhaps it will be answered by Him,
a sign in this dark mind
a light that can chase this hell behind
to give me strength when I have none.
I think about it when i’m done 
though, no comfort comes from it 
my mind constantly goes over it,
making the words burn through my skin 
fighting for a way to come in 
perhaps it is finally time to stop running 
and just give in to this longing:
a peaceful ending after all this fighting.
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cheetahwordspoems · 2 years
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cheetahwordspoems: 89
24 July 2022
‘Giving a Tournament’
This one hits harder, the message unfolds.
A quick out in a game replayed and with renewed rules.
A smart sore pun full of overrun words, half cuts and not enough inputs.
The chamber of the beat and all of it’s demons.
Sung unwritten, words strummed,
I’ll strum again once for for my systolic message that feeds the source.
A deeper message, one that makes you sore.
Unplayed too a played game, a new found analogy. Upcoming under the surface or a strong core.
All games unfold and we’re all the same.
All games unfold and we’re all the same.
The knowledge was well spent and kept up the fleet.
The streets and mountain passers keep up with upkeep.
We all have common need too know and together we keep it a float.
The message that speaks louder, the message of our way.
By,
NCM
🏟
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dyingroses · 2 years
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Mirrors from darkness
‘My favorite time is at night
When all the windows turn into mirrors’
They told me it was too short
A promising start 
Was that prophetic?
For the poem has grown
I now love the night, always buzzed with ideas and desire
I flap my wings and hover in the blue light of my computer
Mirrors
Like most things, multi-meaning
I love to dance and see what I create on the canvas of both time and space
I also hate 
I hate seeing my failures reflected back at me, engraved on my skin, building up inside of me
Funhouse window pains
Image distorted by the glass or the mind
We can’t see outside instead I am the only adventure at this quiet hour
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lucidloving · 7 months
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@roach-works // Melissa Broder, "Problem Area" // Mary Oliver, "The Return" // @annavonsyfert // Koyoharu Gotouge, Demon Slayer // Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance // David Levithan, How They Met and Other Stories // Tennessee Williams, Notebooks
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bambiali · 25 days
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pitbullwithapen · 8 days
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"How can you be friends with somebody old enough to die?"
"He wasn't"
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akoleaa · 19 days
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to rip the flesh from my frame
i wish i had a different brain
but its all the same
feels like im walking on eggshells
just to find the remains on my own shoes
so many ways to lose
my skin holds down my soul
rip it out, cut it out, just make it stop
it repeats day after day
my least favorite play
taking place in front of the mirror
'things will change' they say
'you just gotta wait more!'
but my body keeps the score
my body keeps the score
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roorin · 2 months
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Eclipse
I want to scream I want the world to know that I am here too I am not the man standing in the snow waiting for a lost lover I want them to know that I am trying my hardest too They just don't see how brightly I could shine But then I remember pity is something I shouldn't want, but it's a guilty pleasure. It's my secret I keep close Nobody can know of it because, after my commitments, it's not something I deserve Yet, I want to scream I don't want to give up My throat becomes so pent up I might croak I want to be the sun in the night sky I am trying my hardest Hear my plea Scream and cover your ears, But I'll be just as loud as you are When I am in the sky laughing at a lament that once was
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flowerytale · 5 months
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Sharon Olds, from "Little Things"; Strike Sparks: Selected Poems, 1980-2002
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hamoodmood · 5 months
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In another universe I was happy
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queerbting · 8 months
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dog. you spent your childhood with. golden friend. pawn with wolven eyes. dog dog dog dog dog with abandoned bushy tail, looks up at the black of night and howls. as it howls it wonders... ponders. dog. and then falls silent.
it has no words or thoughts to tell, but if it could, it would try.
"did you too, old friend, see the heavenly ball, hanging in the sky when you crept out at night? i think i have found a love for which there are no words. and for that, i have ceased to cry."
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zombiegirldean · 29 days
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ALSO. the destiel language barrier is so sweet. bc Dean communicates in these abstract referential little circles that Cas can't quite parse. The Michael sword is saying incomprehensible riddles again. but Cas is SO charmed by it that he starts studying it and experimenting with it and trying to meet Dean on his level. and his butchering of idioms is played for laughs but he's mimicking Dean's linguistic patterns as a way of getting closer to him. because he loves him <3
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metamorphesque · 5 months
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Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out, Richard Siken.
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lonesome-dreamsss · 3 months
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his handprint may be burned into your skin but it's still the gentlest touch you've ever received.
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lucidloving · 6 months
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Kurt Vonnegut, based on John Greenleaf, "Maud Muller" // Whittier // Lang Leav // Erica Jong, Becoming Light: Poems New & Selected // @dvoyd // Matt Haig, The Midnight Library // @ojibwa // magazine clipping, on Bronnie Ware's The Top Five Regrets of the Dying // r.h. // F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Basil and Josephine Stories
[Requested by @alwaysanangel-neveragod]
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