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Jon Feb 4
take
a cigarette
and smother it
in earth, let it witness
the ground.
cover
it up so it
is never
found.
Juliana Feb 4
And how will i feel when you leave in three months
Perhaps to another town, state, country even
I wouldn’t know
We never talk

Its sad that ive wasted the last two years
Right next to you
But blind

Its sad that it was only a couple weeks ago
When i first saw
When i saw you walk down the hall
And thought to myself
Oh my

And its sad that i will go my whole life without ever talking to you
Without ever getting to know
Whats behind that guarded smile
Or that instagram profile

Perhaps we’ll meet a decade from now
You will see me
And you will think to yourself
Oh my

And i will finally get to know
You
Peter, your ghost doesn't linger
Not as much anymore, you've got others to adore
And I searched for you again for a while
Almost forgot, you left me at the Nile

In the dark pit of my past life denial
I swore it felt like I was under trial
Made me feel I knew darkness before you
But I knew it all because of you.

And in the memory you don't recall
I know I was left behind and you did nothing at all
Just as it used to be
And just as you showed yourself to me.

And maybe I'm reaching for the unseen
But you showed me what you mean
In the dark pit of my faded memories
It triggered my miseries.

And I won't admit to a thing
Like the writers who let lamps burn
I thought of you in secret and then in his bed I would turn
I did blame myself for it all

And I still curse and ***** as I dig my own pitfall
When it's all set and done
Their bones will rot and I'll watch myself return
To do it all in the name of the fire I swore to watch burn.
Jim Vaughn Jan 14
Your self sabotage is a transient orchestration
in soft pursuit of a potent vexation,
juggling vices as a decade old
one trick pony
circling pastures to meet itself
in the middle of an argument;

You’ll dawdle in the toy aisle,
linger in the doorway,
and parse the wounds of
a family member standing afield;

It could end when you let it,
yet the turmoils have you rattled
like a baby shower gift
presented in glass,
refracting sandy memories
that turned to pleas by a
roadside marquee;

Lone hotel escapades
with uncertainties
set sights on useful
youthful hastenings
brigaded into shoe boxes,
skipped lunches,
and a forgotten birthday
and ripple harm into a harmful world
while we reel at the
second hand trauma
which announces your presence;

The countless open-minded scars
that set you apart
can consume all but echoes,
reminiscent of muddy punk tunes
appearing out of thick air
and plucked with the vengeance
of a forsaken child
who never had enough candles to
blow out,
who conceded happiness to pollinate
fall out,
who branched into nothing to escape
burn out
and who stitched longings into trials
that all end with the conviction
of a jealous ghost
Lizzie Bevis Jan 11
I can't believe that you have gone.

This isn't real, it’s a ruse, it's a trick,  
your absence lingers like dawn's mist,  
but with the sunrise it will surely lift.
My phone will ring, the door is unlocked,  
and I’ll keep your dinner warm
as I wait for you to come home.

Why the hell did you have to die?!  
My fists press hard against the wall,  
and I clench my teeth until my jaw hurts,
as tears roll down cheeks flushed with anger.
I curse God, time, space, fate,  
and everything that took you away.

I was never much of a haggler,
but, I’ll trade all of my tomorrows for yesterday,
and I’ll find a way to save you
and cherish every moment with you.
Please, rewind the clock, I pray;
Even if it is just for one more day.

Gloominess penetrates my worn-out bones,
as lead weights burden my heavy steps.  
My breath feels too heavy to carry,  
and these memories are too painful to hold.
I sink, I drown, I gasp for air,
and I fade into the depths of despair.

But, after a while, life is not so hard,
I watch the sunrise, as a new dawn begins,  
and your memory no longer hurts to recall,
instead, it warms my heart like a gentle hug.  
I smile because you lived and you were loved;
And somehow, I can accept that this is
more than enough.

Please, now go and rest in peace.

©️Lizzie Bevis
The five basic stages of Grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance
Scarlet McCall Oct 2024
Locked into place.
Orwell’s boot on our face.
The human tragedy.
The human disgrace.
We slept with the enemy;
accepted his embrace.
“Aren’t things better now?”
they say; and it can’t be denied–
some things are better.
But is the difference so wide?
“Isn’t it enough, what I do for you?
Do I have to be perfect, too?”
No one is perfect. And I have gratitude.
But I’m waiting, still waiting
for one thing from you:
Admit what’s been done,
by your kind (and yes, you)
Don’t pretend to be blind.
Admit what we gave.
And what you received.
Admit what you took.
And how we weren’t believed.
When you bear this witness,
When you testify
We’ll be friends forever,
You and I.
Most men aren't sexist pigs. The problem is that they won't admit other men are.
Juliana Aug 2024
So it was awkward?
So you dipped?

I still think you are the most beautiful person in the world
and it would simply be the bomb
If we could try again.
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