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Reece Feb 7
When people ask my favorite color,
I often say red or green,
And while I adore them,
It’s a lie.
Then after the conversation,
I wonder, “Why?”
Why did I lie?
What point did it serve?
I question and question,
And this is what I can confirm.

I’m afraid,
Afraid of being judged.
Afraid of the pointed fingers,
And the laughs.
Afraid of being shunned.
Afraid of the chastisement,
And the thought of being outcast.
Why so many fears,
Stem from something so trivial?
I couldn’t answer,
It makes no sense!
Yet something so small,
Feels so consequential,
Making a mountain,
Out of a molehill.
Seems to be my speciality,
Unfortunately.

Perhaps it’s a lack of self-confidence,
So I’m bound to hide any part of me.
That way if I get insulted,
They aren’t addressing me,
Just whatever I told them,
I control the narrative.
How long can one accept,
Living their lives as someone else?
It would feel more freeing,
To stop the lies,
And tell the truth,
But is it worth the risk?
Is the exposure worth the glamour?
Is it worth…
Being me?

I remember when we all had to wear masks,
I hated it.
Yet when the main force of Covid passed,
I kept it on.
Slightly suffocating,
******* all personality,
‘Til I’m nothing,
More than,
Another face,
People pass,
Perhaps a glance,
If I’m lucky.
It’s not as simple,
As just taking the mask off,
If it was,
Do you think I would’ve kept it on?

Trapped in an overthinking mind,
Thought circling,
Swimming fast through the ocean,
No chance of escaping.
The sharks are hungry,
Ready to fill me,
With doubt,
Concern,
A lack of self-worth,
And the biggie,
Anxiety.
If I try to swim away,
I’ll be eaten alive,
Torn apart,
From the inside out.
So at least for now,
My mind is a prison and I’m never gonna get out…

Last year around my birthday,
I wrote a poem similar to this,
Titled “Am I Good Enough?”
A simple question.
I came to the conclusion that I am,
But if I hide, inside,
Is that really living life?

Some lessons that I’ve learned,
Sometimes it’s best to walk the road alone,
The road less traveled,
The road no one else goes,
But the one which will lead you home.
People aren’t always reliable,
Me included,
It’s guaranteed,
Eventually,
They’ll let you down.
And it will hurt you,
When they do,
But they’re human too.
Who make mistakes,
And have regrets,
Filled with stress,
And aren’t perfection,
Despite what they may say.

I often think,
And dread,
What people think of me,
A broken tragic thought,
Excessively haunting.
I think the consensus is,
I’m a stuck-up, narcissist,
Trapped in my own head.
They wouldn’t be entirely wrong,
But I swear,
That’s not me…
I fear that people think I’m too good for them,
So they don’t even bother to connect,
That feeling spreads, and before you know it,
There’s no one left.
In reality,
I’m not that great,
Subpar, at best,
Scraping by with gifts,
I misuse and don’t understand.

I’m painfully introverted,
My shell is very comfortable,
What’s not to love?
Then the loneliness creeps in,
And while I may be satisfied with myself,
People need connection.
Though I don’t need as much as most,
I still need connection.
Yet, I fear,
There’s few who get me,
For me.

I try not to be a pleaser,
But when you’re desperate,
And given attention,
You’d be a fool not to accept it.
Yet, most don’t have the purest intentions,
And abuse,
And misuse,
The kindness they’re given.

I’m tired of sitting in my tower,
Watching from my balcony as others shine,
Questioning if I could do the same,
If I could be half as bright.
As they say,
Sometimes you have to make a leap of faith.
So I will,
I’ll fall,
Not caring what’s below.
Isn’t it better,
To be yourself,
Rather than die a character?
I’ll land on my feet,
And run to the rest,
To prove that I’m worth,
To be in their presence.

So sayonara, somber sorrows,
Farewell, fleeting fear,
Attack, anticipatory anxiety,
And believe,
Things will be fine.
I hope you see,
That the simplest things to confess,
To the overthinking mind,
Can tear me to pieces,
With nothing left to find.

I’ll be myself,
For all I can be, is me,
And though sometimes I may despise me,
I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.
So…
My name is Reece Allen Ellison,
And my favorite color is…
Pink
nicole Feb 6
10-3-24   1:24pm

you have so much to live for
you have so much to learn

where have you been?
you drifted far
but the things you love
still wait for you

life waits for you
like a branch on a tree
waits for a bluejay
nicole Feb 6
1-15-25   11:04pm

i kiss like tomorrow isn't promised
sing such melodies only the skilled can achieve
dance under the moonlight
(yes I don't give a **** who's watching)
laugh so loud heads usually turn
cry during movies
cry to musicals
write ****** poetry

I'm dramatic
I say stupid things I don't mean
I'm embarrassing
I truly believe I was a dragonfly in a past life
my grandfather's spirit lives within me

all these wonderful things
I forget so often


we take things for granted
we take ourselves for granted
yet
we're all just little stars
waiting for our time to shine


"magic cannot leave you when it is you..."
Hawley Anne Feb 6
I missed you then
I miss you still.
There isn't much else that I can say.
Do you know the amount of time
my heart has been in pain?

One hundred thirteen thousand eight hundred eighty, give or take.
That's 13 years of hours.
And I finally feel ok.

This poem I've rewritten now
about 20 thousand times.
Struggling with all my might
to figure out the lines.

It seems that I've said everything
that I had to say.
Like how I'm sorry for not giving you,
your hug or kiss that day.
Or how I will forever regret
the one "I love you" I DIDN'T say.

If I could turn back the clock
to the last day I ever saw you,
knowing what I know now
I know just what I would do.

I would give you the biggest hug
I'd ever given to anyone.
And I'd say I love you so many times
like maybe infinite times, plus one.

But I can't go back despite my guilt
and you'll never hug me again.
I'll never get to hear your voice
or introduce another boyfriend.

You wont get to be here
to watch my girls become who they will be.
You also won't be around
for any future milestones for me.
Like if I get clean or get my kids
or if I ever really mature.

I won't get to see you smile
or hear how you knew it all along.
That I would get my girls back.
That I was a good mom

I think I finally have come to terms
with the fact you had to go on.
And I've truely said all I can
so I think this is the last poem.

Please don't think you've left my thoughts,
that's not at all the case.
I just think I've said enough times now
I love you and you're missed.

So I'll leave you with just one more thing,
before I truly let you sleep.
I always have and always will love you.
And in my heart you'll keep

I hope to oneday see you again
And I'll miss you till I die.
So please Rest well uncle Chris,


This is the final Goodbye.
Zack Feb 4
Stand atop
your                                                            ­                                         dunes
manifested
Dreams
from infallible convictions
Eyes — open
with pretentious ecstasy
Gawking
Your waves — in a waterless sea
Stand
facing the winds
permeating
your pedantic desert
Eyes — water
Assurances — seeping in
Indifferently
ravishing your                                                             ­                      dunes
Lie — buried
The sand’s absolute
Like sediment —
manifestations overlaid
Eyes — close
against the winds righteous pursuits
You wonder
how you missed the direction
whence they came
Arturo Feb 2
We suffer from a sense of separation
Separation from self, soul,
brothers.
We suffer from thoughts run rampant in our heads,
Emotions left unchecked, stuffed, and ignored.
We suffer from memories stuck in our bodies
In the tissues
The cells
Encoded and bound.

The sense of separation is false,
A lie.
A myth we’ve been sold
A part of our conditioning
Domestication in drag.

When we can stop
And stare our faults,
Straight in the face,
Without cowering.
Eye to eye with the shadow
With love (and fear)
And grace.
We can then dance with our faults,
Our Shortcomings
Our humanity.

And then my friend
We realize
we’ve always been whole.
A part,
Not apart,
Of the cosmic wave.

We see then that we’re connected
To our souls and the divine.
And can be there for our brothers
who’ve been left behind.
Robert Feb 2
Harken ye who stand at deaths door.
Do not fret or worry Anymore.
His touch may be icy, and cold.
But it's filled with love, or so I'm told.
He takes away sarow as well as pain.
A bliss to compare to a summer rain.
He'll take your hand and off you'll go.
The two of you walking toe to toe.
So do not fret or worry in these last moments.
Stand firm at his door, and hand him your two pence.
"Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it" by Haruki Murakami.
Syafie R Jan 29
In the grand book of time, we all have a page,
Written in ink, yet bound by a cage.
A single page, so fleeting, so small,
But we seek to turn it, to conquer it all.

The line we cross, the test we take,
The thirst for power that we mistake—
For we think we’re the authors, the ones who decide,
But in the end, we can’t run from the tide.

The pages are many, yet ours is just one,
A moment in time, a thread in the sun.
To seek more is tempting, to push past the wall,
But we lose ourselves when we forget the call.

For in trying to play the Creator's part,
We lose the wisdom of a humble heart.
The test is simple, yet it's a heavy cost:
To accept our place, and not be lost.

The bad will wander, lost in their fire,
While the good will stand, to never tire.
And when the test is done, with no more to seek,
We’ll find peace in the truth, in the simple and meek.

So let them be bad, and let us be good,
Not for glory, but because we should.
To simply be—to live, to feel,
Is the wisdom that turns the wheel.

The end will come, as all things do,
And we’ll rest in knowing, the answer is true:
The power we seek is not ours to claim,
It’s simply to be, and to honor the name.
Immortality Jan 25
i failed,
please don't hate me.

tears fall,
nose aches,
throat burns.

hands tremble,
heart clenched,
lost in this ache.

my love can't defy you,
my weakness.

before the mirror,
"I'll make them proud,"
murmurs to my heart.

i failed,
please don't hate me.
the feeling when you fail your loved ones— for me, my parents, and for you, others— when you see the stars in their eyes and realize that you've stolen their shine.
Noonie Jan 22
Feeling the rhythm,
Eyes shut,
Drifting far away—
A peaceful surrender.

The world stills,
Thoughts fade,
Vivid memories,
Etched softly on my skin.

I find solace within chaos,
Revel in the pain,
Embracing my darkness,
After impact bliss.
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