Hide and SeekI have never been good at the game of Hide & Seek I have mastered the art of...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by 0vertheh0riz0n
4y ago
Hide and Seek I have never been good at the game of Hide & Seek  I have mastered the art of hiding  Feelings  Moments  Thoughts  But I have yet to experience the pleasure of being found.  For a while I thought someone would find me Curled up under the table in that dark room  Where I’d been hiding for as long as I can remember They would pick me up  My two feet would touch the ground And after a lifetime of hiding I could breathe knowing the game was finally over. But instead I kept waiting,  I waited and waited  A new heartbreak  Each time someone walked by Me, naive, thought they would ..read more
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UnchainedThe scars are still thereThey rise up from my skinPuckered and hot and angry  My memories...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by
4y ago
Unchained The scars are still there They rise up from my skin Puckered and hot and angry   My memories are clear A tabula rasa White cold and empty   I don’t try to recall I don’t need to remember I know I am free ..read more
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Thank you for breaking my spirits, for you have given me strength to fly. Through my sorrows and...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by
4y ago
Thank you for breaking my spirits, for you have given me strength to fly. Through my sorrows and pain come light, the light in which I had forgotten. The light in which I have been able to see the best in my self, when you couldn’t. So here’s a toast to all the sorrows I have washed away, just as I have washed you away from within me. Nothing left but memories. Memories that will fade away, just as you have faded away from my heart ..read more
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There are times late at night where I feel weathered. Spent and empty. Tired Of what exactly? I’ve...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by
4y ago
There are times late at night where I feel weathered. Spent and empty. Tired Of what exactly? I’ve lived no life. I’m young by all accounts, my life before me. And yet on quiet nights. By myself. That doesn’t feel true. Spent and empty. Tired. Tired of a life I’ve yet to live. To lead. Drained by the possibility. The perspective. The potential potential. Wasted. So on quiet nights. In the dark. To myself. I weep. For those lost. For those yet to be. For failures in my past. And those inevitably. Confused at how. Having done so little. I feel I have spent so much. I fe ..read more
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My Personal PredatorPain is a predator     you might see it stalking you in the   corner of your...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by
4y ago
My Personal Predator Pain is a predator      you might see it stalking you in the    corner of your eye;      you might think you’re safe from it, that it    will strike someone else;      you will start to worry as it gets    closer and closer; Then it will look you in the eye, and that’s when you know it will attack.                                                                             it will attack.                     it already has ..read more
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Anyways“Anyways…” Neither of us have moved but suddenly I feel miles away from him. His eyes...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by
4y ago
Anyways “Anyways…”  Neither of us have moved but suddenly I feel miles away from him.  His eyes have a sort of frustrated-pity look. Like he knows he’s hurting me, he knows I’m not what he wants anymore. I miss him. I miss the completeness I felt wrapped in his arms. His smell, the warmth of his skin, the feeling of home.  He’s looking at me now, begging with his eyes for me to leave. But I can’t move. I’m angry, I hate that he doesn’t love me anymore. I’m sad. I know that I’ve already lost him [*was he ever even mine?*]. All I want is to wrap him up and remind him of all the good we share. To ..read more
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A Story Of ConfessionDon’t push me.I’m on the edge.Bent but not broken.I carry on.Always...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by everyfandomishere-deactivated20
4y ago
A Story Of Confession Don’t push me. I’m on the edge. Bent but not broken. I carry on. Always carry on. Alone. Yet again. I am pushed. Onto a tightrope. Losing my balance. Is just too easy. I’ll get through it. There’s an end. I have to believe. Or else I’ll never make it ..read more
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MasksOnce a year on Halloween Kids and adults dress in costumes and masks. They have their fun...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by
4y ago
Masks Once a year on Halloween Kids and adults dress in costumes and masks. They have their fun pretending to be something different than they aught to be At the end of the night they head back home Costumes and masks are stored away And they return to their true selves. On these days, I did not wear a costume However a mask was always in place What makes this mask different from the rest Is its invisibility No one knows the real me The mask has become a part of me I was not born with this mask Nor was it apparent for many years I found it mid-childhood When I lost what no child should ..read more
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The Spark that Won’t DieYou are an everlasting spark. I can throw water on you, smother you,...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by itsauguststuff
4y ago
The Spark that Won’t Die You are an everlasting spark. I can throw water on you, smother you, and try to blow you out. But you are always there. A slow burn. All it takes is a breath, a romantic word, a memory of intense heat, or a poke from out of nowhere and that tiny tinder bursts into a spark. I’m a blanket. I keep you comfortable, make you feel safe, create heat—but I am flame resistant. You don’t fight the constant battle of trying to put me out, as there is no danger of fire from me. I want to fan the flames, but I can’t. I can’t because there is a firewall that I can’t breech. I’ve tri ..read more
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If only you knewHow do u lay next to someone every night, knowing you don’t love them? I try to find...
Anonymous Writers | Anonymous Poetry Blog
by
4y ago
If only you knew How do u lay next to someone every night, knowing you don’t love them? I try to find a million ways to leave but none of them ever work out. I lay here with fear not knowing what could happen, what will be next? Will I ever be happy again? The little voice in my head is screaming to be free but u can’t hear me. I lay here night after night thinking of ways to leave, but morning comes and the fear of being happy pulls me back. What would happen if I told you how I feel? Would you knock me down? Or let me go? But that’s just some questions I don’t want to know. If only u felt ..read more
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