more.bad.poetry

where awkward private thoughts become public knowledge.


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Hidden

I told him that I love him
And he just looked away
I sat there sinking in the silence –
What more could I say?

If I could turn it off I would,
this painful beating heart;
Faltering at a touch or glance
Jumping hard to start.

And so resigned to fate am I,
this trouble that I’m in.
I’d weather every pang and ache
to waste my time with him.

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Gone

After 24 days I had 24 reasons to let him stay away
But I couldn’t resist the heroin high his songs makes in my brain.
I gave him a song like a blanket, something to calm his shivering mind;
Gave up my strength to heal his wounds, then died when he pushed me aside.

His face is starting to fade, getting harder to call to mind
There’s only echoes of his voice – him telling me he’s mine.
His face, it came in a dream once though, clear as the day we met;
Heart it raced, and when I woke up, I had to remember that he’d left.

We’re like the ocean, our love comes in tides –
A rush of relief when we smash and collide –
And then all at once, roughly ripped back to sea
Pulled down to the depths and exposed to the deep.


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One Night

Stars that glow like lanterns
Of travelers in the sky
Moving dream to dream.

Blushed pink lips invite
The softest kiss of your life
If you mind the thorns.

Dark clouds, day is night
Small feet echo over stone
Rushing to stay dry.

All that he could see
Was the dew drops in her hair,
Her smeared mascara.

Halfway across town
He longed for the scent of her;
Stale smoke and lilacs.

She stood a statue
And watched the birds dive, her breath held
Scared they were goners.


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Trouble

Trouble with a different face
I’d still know you any place
It seems we’re destined to cross paths
Time and time again

I never even think your name
And still you find me, just the same
I can’t say that I’m glad to see you
Don’t care how you’ve been

And here we go now, one more time
Aching just to call you mine
Swiftly brushing the past aside
To feel you on my skin.


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Dusk

Was that girl in the mirror sad?
She looked so much like me
Then shards of glass flew at my face
With lightning breakneck speed.

Is it just an illusion, my confusion setting in?
I never seem to see the darkness starting from within.

I tried to hold tight to that golden rope
Should have lifted me up with my hopes.
The wind is picking up and I’m getting tired –
If I could climb up to the top
I know I’d make this feeling stop.

At first it made sense to climb
It really seemed worth it this time.
The lights, they’re fading into dim
Just like dusk is setting in.
Why was I so open? all the words I spoke and
The way I let myself let you in.


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Storm

Hard came the rains; rumbling thunder overhead shook the house.

The glass in the windows shook menacingly and threatened to shatter and scatter onto the dark floor.

Clouds colored dusky gray blocked out the once visible scattering of stars. Not even the moon, powered by sunlight, could shine through.

As the storm continued the roof sagged under the weight of the water and then shook violently. Creak, shake, creak, shake.

Hours passed with the house swaying in the storm; attacked on all fronts by an invisible enemy. A surprise attack on an unfortified structure.

But then more hours passed, and the thunder gave way to grumpy rumblings. The rain became lazy and slow. The dark clouds were pinpointed with glimpses of a shining night sky; you could just make out the outline and faint glow of the moon.

The storm subsided, finally, and the house stood proudly in triumph. Windows can be replaced, the roof built stronger.