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All this jewellery,
What for can it be?

Earrings you got at birth,
What are they worth?
They are with you
Always

Exchanging friendship bracelets,
The expectations it sets.
Best friends
Forever

Necklaces from family,
Might not know what you see.
They’re still there for you
Truly

Engagement and wedding rings,
More than beautiful things.
Boyfriends, girlfriends—lives entwine,
Becoming husbands, wives in time.
I guess what I meant to say was: everything has a meaning
How can she not ask for help,
When it’s finally being offered?

How can she not ask for help,
When she’s being listened to?

How can she not ask for help,
When she isn’t judged?

How can she not ask for help,
When AI says her writing is good?

How can she not ask for help,
When AI helps, at least a little bit?

Why would she not ask for help,
When she needs it?

Can she still call it help,
Or is it just code?
I asked chat what it thinks about this poem, and the previous one, and the one before. Because no actual person wants to listen. No actual person cares. And neither does AI, but at least AI pretends.
Another pointless, quiet fight.
Another message: “Yeah, you’re right”
Another text reading “goodnight”
Typing out “sleep tight”
as my phone screen turns to white.

I don’t turn off the music,
I do start to panic.

Everything reminds me of us,
The way you think I overuse “we” and “us”
turns to one more thing we used to discuss.
The way you tell me not to fuss
taught me minus and minus equals plus.

You never thought I had it right.
But I still hope you sleep tight.
Sorry for not writing much this week. I hope you enjoy this poem and I hope you sleep tight.
Your not dead,
But it feels like you are.

I'll scroll past a stranger on the internet,
But I know their soul,
The hurt in their life,
The people they like,
The life they live,
Their favourite food,
Song,
Artist,
Their favourites

How do you know a person,
And they’re still strangers?

Your not dead,
But your memory fades,
And the laughter from us on the couch,
Irking eachother and eating icecream.
The sound of our home,
Full of giggles and smiles.
The family I yearned for.
The care I yearned for.

Who will make me giggle when I cry?
And listen to my worthless words?
To indulge my every whim,
And cook me food when i'm hungry,

Who will take care of you,
Make sure your healthy,
And bother you,
Borrowing something from your room every day,
Sitting on your bed and telling each other about our day,
Who we hate
Who we love
Who we judge

You live,
But not in my world
Your walking around somewhere,
Content with your new life,
I hope you are.
But i'm not.
I smell your smells and think of you,
I listen to your songs
I play your games
And think of then.

Where did they go?
Where did you go?
Why did you have to go?
Another one for the brother
 Jun 24 Charmour
yúyīn
JJsbdksndkkdmxmjshJustletmediemmmkbhbxjdnxnbdjxbdnxnnxnxnImsotire­dofthisnsjs nkksbdndnbdthese tears wontstopjdjdnn znjsnndudndkdknfkdmssnfnjdndnndbdbdbdnWhythepainstilllivesin myheartjjxnxjxjdn mykdjdvjsndjcjndndncnxkxnkxndkdkjdnskxhjshdjddndeImsofuckingtired­msnndksnxonshxidnkxndjsjdbjdkslmsndjjdbdisbdjjdksndjdhbsndnndjdjd­ndnd


Youllneverunderstand me
@.**
 Jun 24 Charmour
Meera
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence
To be human,
Means to Win,
Only to loose.
 Jun 3 Charmour
Eve
it took violence
to become this gentle

it took neglect
to become this loving

it took apathy
to become this understanding

it took danger
to become this serene

it took adultification
to become this patient

it took abandonment
to learn how to cherish

and all it takes
are those kind eyes

and i break
a    p    a    r    t
 Jun 2 Charmour
jay
never to deep
never enough to die
but enough to feel the pain;
enough to scream inside
I want to stab my chest.
let the pressure hiss out like steam.
It’s lived here too long,

The same pressure
I've felt lying in this same bed,
staring through this same window,
with these same thoughts
in this same body
no matter how many times I beg it to leave

I want to stab my chest.
Cut out the rot of
never good enough,
of sorry for existing,
of always the one who ruins everything.

I want it gone
The weight.
The silence.
The drowning
The constant need to earn my right to breathe.

stabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabsta­bstabstab
stabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabsta­bstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstab­stabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabs­tabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabst­abstabstabstab
sunk.

But I don't stab.
I just lie here
again
and the window doesn’t say a thing.
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