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Yes
The first lie I ever told you in my life
Was a simple, tiny “yes”
My pillows are stained with my tears
Feeling how big this bed is to me now
I don't have the willpower to throw away
Our photos, writings, trinkets, promises
Every meal feels like too much for me now
And I still have your favorite bowl
Even finding a strand of your hair
Reminds me of how empty this home is
My thoughts are so overwhelming and loud
While my heart is quiet and heavy
And you stand in front of me, looking okay
And time has been so kind to you
As though your days have pared you
From the fallout between us
Asking me out of courtesy, “Have you been well?”
“Yes”
And your day resumes
While my own life has stopped
 Jul 30 CantSeeMe
Meli
On, Off
 Jul 30 CantSeeMe
Meli
On, off
Happy, sad
Feeling as disgusting as a moth
Makes me mad

Bored, not bored
When will this end
This repetitive pattern
Maybe I need a friend

Oh wait, oh no
I'm not able to call
Why is this so hard
If only this problem I could discard
I can't contact my friends!!!!
plz give me some advice!!!!!!
It has been a long time,
since I’ve seen your smile.
Touched your hand,
heard your voice.
1 year, 2 months, 22 hours, and 11 seconds,
not that I’m counting.
I need you,
I never stopped needing you,
but now you are gone.
Isn’t fate cruel?
A broken heart is–

a poet's greatest treasure.
 Jul 30 CantSeeMe
Khadi Alza
Carrying your shoes
to my house.
To eat
up
and choke on.
While I cry
a river of tears,
and fold paper boats.
Hoping it'll reach u,
hiding the secrets I never told.
 Jul 30 CantSeeMe
mysterie
“it should be.”
being afraid --
it’s not a thrilling feeling,
not a rush,
not something
that anyone asks for.
it’s a heavy,
and eerie kind of silence.
not knowing what’s next,
who will speak,
who will leave,
when it ends --
or if it even will.
no one knows.

being afraid
feels like your insides
are twisting
trying to strangle themselves.

not butterflies --
but knots,
tight and mean,
it's your body sounding the alarms
in the only way it knows how.
a sickness that whispers,
“brace yourself,”
for something
that might not
even come.
first one in awhile.
date wrote: 29/7
 Jul 30 CantSeeMe
Traveler
We face death every day
and we live.
When we finally die
perhaps that’s the gift.

The flowers grow wild
in my world.
She says they’re weeds
but she is but a girl.
I reckon she’ll have to come back this way, to learn how to break free of this maze..
Look at the time!
We have to go,
live out our poetry
with all we know.
Traveler Tim
 Jul 30 CantSeeMe
Foogle
Sick
 Jul 30 CantSeeMe
Foogle
sugar bomb rests between
unbrushed teeth
i chew

slowly

staring out the window that can’t be turned off

hands reaching out to the far wall
uncoloured bony aliens

ten tablespoons of pasta soup
chinese medicine
a peice of bread
three sips
of water
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