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Emery Feine May 17
You make me into something I’m not
You spread lies and misjudge me
I want to be angry
I know I deserve to be

You tell me the same thing
You try to change my mind
But I know what I want
And I know you’re not kind

And I know you’re reading this, Mia
And you know this isn’t about you
This isn’t about anyone in particular
But you should be angry too
if we hold onto hope, we’ll have our happy ending
My Dear Poet May 9
there’s always two sides to a story
yet there is no shape with just two sides
so when you shape your story
you’d need to tell another lie
Fumbletongue May 3
My left eye sees the honest things
A puddle, sky, a skipping stone
It watches birds with steady wings
And knows which socks are not my own

It can spot a single tear
It sees the cracks behind a smile
It knows what’s honest, sharp, and clear
It watches quiet all the while

My right eye is full of play
It sees a dragon in a tree
It turns a puddle into a bay
And swears that squirrels drink cups of tea

It just loves to tell tall tales
It sees a boat where there’s a shoe
It sees dancing trees and talking snails
And paints the sky a deeper blue

One eye will whisper, “That is so.”
It points to facts and steady ground
The other shouts, “A UFO!”
Whenever leaves go swirling ’round

Together, though, they share my face
And show a world both strange and true
Where clocks might melt and flowers race
But love still fits in every view

Together they both guide my heart
One by the truth, one by surprise
Between the lines of what’s been said
I see the world with twin-born eyes
I have been working on this write over 2 years and it still is not perfect to me but posting anyway to let it go and then perhaps it will spark later and be finished correctly.

I wanted to work with the concept of someone whos left eye sees only truth and their right eye sees only lies.
izzmidnight Apr 29
You put on your glassy mask
So I'll only see
The version of yourself
You contrived for me.

You slip on your suffocating shoes
So you can walk on
Like you're not gasping for air,
And nothing is wrong.

You tie up your hair tightly
So you can pretend
You're that pretty little girl again
With those once loyal friends.

You slide up your dejected glasses
So I can't see your bleeding scars
Hiding behind the facade—
I don't know who you really are.
I appreciate comments and feedback! :)
Lies are mercy, aren't they?
Little bandages over wounds too raw to touch,
soft words wrapped around a blade-
because what's a little blood between friends?

They call them shadows.
but don't they have weight?
Haven't they sat beside us at dinner tables,
held our hands at funerals.
kissed our foreheads goodnight?
Haven't they whispered in our ears-
"Shh. The truth would only ruin this."

People wear them like armor,
stitched with good intentions
because nothing says I care
like a well-tailored deception.
But armor rusts.
Tongues slip.
And no one likes the taste of old lies.

They lie because the world doesn't want the truth
Because the mirror would rather blur the cracks
than reflect the hollow-eyed thing staring back.
Because I'm fine
is easier than I haven't slept in days.
Because It's okay
is a free pass to avoid confrontation.
Because some truths burn.
and some people would rather drown in gasoline
than risk lighting the match.

Lies keep love alive, don't they?
One says, I'll never leave.
The other doesn't ask What if you do?
One says. I trust you.
They both pretend it's true.
Betrayals become misunderstandings.
Silence becomes space.
Absence becomes freedom.
Say it enough, and it sounds real.
Believe it enough, and maybe it doesn't hurt.

But lies don't stay small.
They grow ribs
Grow teeth.
Learn to walk on their own.

They slip from tongues like prayers-
practiced, automatic.
holy in their own way.
They turn love into a contract.
guilt into a leash,
truth into an inconvenience.
They say, You are safe.
They say. You are right.
They say. You had no choice.

Then-
a crack in the mask,
a break in the voice,
a silence too loud to ignore.

And suddenly, the truth isn't some mythical beast,
not a monster waiting under the bed.
If's just there, standing in the doorway.
waiting. Watching.
Tired of being the villain in
someone else's story.

Lies aren't mercy, are they?
Just wounds left open too long-
festering, rotting, waiting to be called by
their real name
lies creates peace the way storm creates silence
brief, deceptive and always before the fall
Kyle Kulseth Apr 22
Sew my ******* eyes open
and never let me sleep.
Watch until my blues run red
               and you've
          shown me what's
                     to see.

Tell the story of your golden crown,
you platinum-plated ****.
Let me know how brazen trumpets sound
               when filling up
                     with spit.

It's not enough to hate you.
And it's not enough to cry.
Crying havoc through your perfect teeth:
      it's much worse than a lie.

                          So lay me down on
                        5th street train tracks
                     where the old bums go to
                                       die.
                  Then roll out on your cart of
                                golden coin
                         and break some toys.

Play the game of pampered princes
      painted like paupers and ******.
Zip that costume up and hit the alleys.
                Catch a fix.
     Or a "swift one off the wrist."

Tug my bruising eyeballs out
and lay me down to bed.
Awake until the red turns black
               and your
           mouth starts spit-
               -ting lead.

Tell the story of your paper crown,
you hollow-hearted ****.
Let you know how hunting hounds do howl
      when crawling in
             the muck.

                       "You ain't nothin' but an *******,"
                     and "I don't believe in nothin' you're
                                  trying to prove."
(The Falcon)
Excerpt(s) Citation:

The Falcon. "The Fighter, The Rube, The *******." Gather Up the Chaps. Red Scare Industries, 2016. Various Formats.
Rin Apr 19
I trusted this world,
but my ears deceive.
i heard the truth,
and again its a lie.

My thoughts play tricks,
i thought trusting was right.
the whisper of lies,
This world is just filled with untruthful words.

But why?
i cant stop believeing in them.
what makes them so perfect?
i just wished i could close my ears,
and shut their mouths.
Im done with being lied to.
They say there's no thing as true love,
Humans are also fondly known to lie,
I just can't believe it,
Not after knowing you.

I can't say it enough times,
I need something more to really let you know,
I yearn for you,
You are a necessity.

Even when times get dark,
We light each other up,
Even when they plant seeds of doubt,
We sprout even brighter than before.

We grow, we love,
We tire, we sleep,
We rest, we're restless.
I think, I think of you.
Izan Almira Apr 13
"Brave”, “strong”, “decisive”.
You use these words to describe me,
in an attempt to console me.
Unaware that they are nothing more
than bandages covering my flaws to me.

Straps of fabric surrounding my scars,
hoping that if I can’t see them,
I’ll be able to forget them.
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