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Daivik Apr 2021
Some nights are strange
You feel so tired
But can't fall asleep
You see a ghost behind your face
Your reflection in nothingness

And walk aimlessly on imagined streets
A state of half-awakened dream
Random thoughts come into your mind
For reasons you cannot find
You see a ghost behind your face
Your reflection in nothingness

A cool breeze flows
Like whispers of ghosts
The moon looks strange
In the sky
A blackness not completely black
You don't want to come back

Silver airs
Very strange
There's no yesterday
No tomorrow
No today
Just this eternal
infinitesimal moment

You want to have great thoughts
But you think nothing at all
Doing nothing in the dead of night
Looking into the mirror of the empty sky
And it's wonderful

The sound of trains
You thought something
You forgot
Never mind
There is no ghost behind your face
Just your reflection in nothingness
I am awake right now now,don't no why
shiv Feb 2021
You hold me like you think i will leave
Like the constant contact we keep
Is the anchor holding you to me

The rocks can not stop
The waves from meeting the shore
And distance can not keep
My heart from beating for yours
end Jan 2021
Her ******* arose and fell with mine
Dare the foolish lip divine?

Too rapt by Time's celestial wicks,
Spend the days along the homesick.

Young flowers with their own lesson given,
The world's day and love are riven.

Without the beam, from our dreaming,
Bright as the need of a star.

Rich in the red, unto the dew,
Too fair, so shy, too new!
end Jan 2021
Death calls to me.

I kneel before her at full length—
Beside my lyre she would now dwell,
She was my smiling and my Soul!
Laid her on my golden door—
Beside my heart, she was my bride.
Laid her on my throne in sky—
An angel throng! with her bright eyes.



Death kissed my lips.

And when my deep blush went in gold,
I reached the end of her bright eyes—
She was my own sweet dream!
Shed all around me in a winter night,
Laid her wide head on my gold light.
Thus on that eve, as on that night
Held her white breast with its love light,
Kind solace to her burning sight!
end Jan 2021
**** me now,
I'll put myself to a grave.
The coffin gives the whole of me.
The moment, but no power can ever save!

Let me die.
Sit in these gardens with your dark eyes!
Silent the matter lies;
Keep a wanderer out in sky.

I won't return.
Find no escape in me.
Slow down the wilderness I see,
That crowd around thy home and be!
R N Tolliday Dec 2020
it's snowing tonight
it's cold, but i'm walking now
i don't care at all what he says
it's a precious time now for me
i'm lost in deep thought

i have no trust in my family
simple life is boring for me at all

i am in no mood to **** myself
i don't know why i was born
i don't feel at home where i am
i don't know what it is

i have no trust in my family
simple life is boring for me at all

i'm walking in the snow now
i'm not restricted in my movement
A song by bluebeard.

Bluebeard was a Japanese emotional rock band, active around the early 2000s. The band's music had a likeness to the emotional rock scene happening in the States: Sunny Day Real Estate, Mineral, Texas is the Reason, etc, and bluebeard carved out an identity for themselves in the indie music scene in Tokyo. (Emotional Rock, or emo rock, is the same genre as the more popular American Football.) In a rare interview, it became known that bluebeard intended for their music to be at the same level as the bands of their influence, and worked hard to do so, so they could be enjoyed by a wider audience, including the States.

Their genius showed: in 2015 the band had a year-long reunion, much like American Football and Mineral at that time, and ended for packed venue(s). Just like American Football, the band had only released one full length album.

Yoshikazu Takahashi is one of the brains behind the music of bluebeard, and he is the voice behind the lyrics. Snow, was written about the singer songwriter's loneliness he experienced at adolescence. At writing it, he was likely around the age of 20.

If you're talking about the great emotional rock bands that make up that era: listen to Bluebeard, who saw the scene as it was happening in the States, and emulated what they heard and saw with soul and unique vision. The truth behind their lyrics, the genius of their music's composition, the mentor influences from British punk bands who Yoshikazu idolised (and likely others), and Yoshikazu's own soulful, renegade voice: bluebeard bleeds that era of emotional rock.
Grace Nov 2020
When we were younger, we
would meet every chance
we had. Each meeting
another break
from school and chores and
growing up.

Now, we are older. And
meeting you feels like
an assignment, a chore,
a side effect of growing up. It's a
band-aid hiding how nowadays,
we are never not apart.

///

Each headline
is harder to swallow. Each text
another punch in the gut. Each day
another attempt to save
what was mine by pushing it
away. Each decision
another crumpling of an
empty page. I only hope
when the creases are smoothed
there will be something left to
write on.

///

Man's best friend lives
10 to 20 years, and why not more?
Why can't furry tails wag
forever, if only because
I want them to.
Heavenly Father, if Methuselah had
1000 years, why not my best friend 30?
Why not, why not, why not? Why not
let his damp snout and curious eyes
see just another day?
mark soltero Sep 2020
i begin to arise
looking over into your gaze
so that i can feel you
breathless and shaken
with joy in your eyes
thirst overtaking the impulse
to feel how strong this love is
rubbing your skin
exposes the warm static throughout
im left without air
asphyxiating for pleasure
head rushing
groaning your name
please keep going
you keep our skin vibrating
and purging the toxicity of the world from us
taking in only me
you can feel my pulse
radiate from your sacral place
with you gushing out
like the words it takes to tell you
that i love you
and want to fill the empty spaces within
for a moment
i feel like we’ve become one
our bodies sing
heavenly tones echo within the confines of this home
with archangels watching over
as we fulfill our celestial fate
Bri Stokes Sep 2020
Somone
some day
might love me;
might gaze beyond
the terror
and doubt;
the walls that stand
like angels and gods,
shielding me from
all the Bad Things of Before.

Someone
might say I'm enough,
and make excuses for the pain
I inflict--
for the icy,
blood-soaked
blade
I brandish so easily.
The thousand cuts
that lead them
to their ends.

Someone might open my chest,
see the rose-colored
soul
that shivers there:
the terrified child crouching in shadow,
and long to comfort
and give her
a home.
To shower her
with recognition
and acceptance.
To promise peace
and eternity
and the weight of gold
in an undeviating
kiss.

But for now,
I know only memories.
Only the cold,
dawning
glow
of regret.
The sting of curiosity
behind a cracked
and dust-sopped
window.
The horror
and tragedy
in Truths I cannot challenge.
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