Any Longer Poems - Poems about Any Longer

The Person Who No Longer Exists

They said,
"just live."
But they never spoke of the ache
that lingers in the marrow—
of the fog that swallows names,
moments,
whole years.

I keep hoping the blurs
will soften into memory,
and the sharp things
will forget how to cut.

Nothing is easy.
Nothing is hard.
It's all just
weight,
wind,
waiting.

And I—
I just want to be
something
whole.

We talk in circles,
mourning versions of ourselves
who never made it out,
pulling sorrow

Even Prayers No Longer Know Whom They Ask

I have said so many prayers
that sometimes I feel they are no longer mine.
That I inherited them
like clothes too large.

I say them, but do not understand.
I utter them, but do not believe.
And yet, I cling to them
like the hand of a father who never held me.

Perhaps belief is not needed.
It is enough to keep hoping.
Even

He No Longer Loves

He is no longer in love with me.
His spoken words flesh caught like dull razors.
Churning pains toss me in raw seeped reelings.
I feel feather fragile as weighty aches 
conflict and trip me upon foreign ground.
Heavy, my eyes are merely tear-weak slits.
God, in prayer I do ask, with mercy come
and ease my wrecked self with gift

She’s No Longer Dry - bawdy limerick warning

My auntie, who was on vacation
Was lusting for fast fornication
She met a well-hung guy
But her foo-foo’s too dry
She blurted, “It needs lubrication!”

The fella, whose first name was Dick
Said, “Stay put. I’ll be back real quick
I’ll purchase sticky Jell-O
‘Twill turn your foof bright yellow
But ensures my entry is slick!"

The Jell-O lube worked really well
Dick satisfied my

Bazball or Bazbat goes soft and flat

Alright have to admit that whole drole Bazball or Baz Bat cool cat vibe…rabbit out of hat tribe.. is taking its toll..sunk in a hole..losing it’s goal and soul..not being a vitriol troll..maybe need to mull over a cull of this rigmarole..

Can’t pretend..is the end of this spangly jangly new fangled trend…nothing off the shelf…just

No Longer Icing

two dancing silhouettes,
lurking in the shadows
fireflies spark like static in the air
a dream that bloomed
from a far-fetched delusion,
a love that demands lifelong care.

i trip on the train of her white-laced dress,
hoping some man might catch my fall.
how typical of me, to make a mess,
then run away
before time can take it all.

i envy the love i

There are choices I've made that no longer speak, but scream within me

There are choices I've made that no longer speak, but scream within me,
Like winds lost in a violent storm, stirring my silent soul,
I cannot return to them, cannot mend them, but they pass over me,
Like cold shadows slipping across warm skin, leaving sensations of untamed longing.
I regret them in ways for which I have no

I no longer know Beauty

I
forget—
like how leaves forget their tree
once autumn called them free.
Moments slip and leave
an unsettling void
for dreams to flourish.
Uninvited, wearing
the mask of memory.

A fiction sung in earnest,
stitched in gray hours—
where dreams blend into truth.
A hushed whisper:
“Beauty is truth,”—but
I wouldn’t know 
if the echoes I call "mine"
ever rang—

I am built
of broken facts,
soft edits,
and pills that patch up
what

Incessant flagellation no longer torments nor assails psyche of mine

Incessant flagellation no longer torments nor assails psyche of mine...

until courtesy amazing grace interceded
in the doggone guise 
of Canis lupus familiaris
unwittingly timely deliverance
videre licet as an unconditionally loving 
emotional support animal.

Emotional and financial crucifixion
synonymous with being
figuratively nailed to the cross
or flayed into a bloody pulp,
which damning punishment
linkedin to joint checking account
being sucked dry as an

I no longer walk barefoot through this garden of forgotten time

I no longer walk barefoot through this garden of forgotten time,
where the grass, once the silk of summer, now scratches my soles with memories,
here, in this enchanted soil, bloomed a flower that stole my soul,
an earthbound spell transformed into petals that sang to the touch.
Perhaps someone, a faceless traveler, came and stole it away,
leaving only

Time can no longer fly

that day in December I remember—
I sucked on my soaked
            tucked-in socks
When I saw you–with a neat  p.a.c.k  of straw on your b.a.c.k
I beckoned to you—
               you came
but

The Clock that no Longer Tells Time

I am no longer of use.
That much is clear.

They pass me by like I’m furniture—
just another shape gathering dust
in the corner of the kitchen
where light rarely lands.

My face, once proud,
is smudged now—
not by time,
but by its absence.

I used to hold their mornings together:
6:45, the hiss of the kettle.
7:02, cereal spiraling into bowls.
7:58, the door slammed

The Rooms he no longer Enters

His soul portrays the eyes of a wolf,
lost without his pack - banished from his territory. 

In his deceptive demeanour,
hiding his depressive state - he howls at the moon.

An outcast unable to dream,
he adorns a false smile at sunrise,
as he's still scarred from
the house he once built - brick by brick.
Where walls of lullabies,
were created

There should be a place to shelter us when sleep is a bird that no longer comes

There should be a place to shelter us when sleep is a bird that no longer comes,
or when we are tired of getting drunk on our own thoughts, and the grass no longer lifts dreams,
I don't mean powders or cocaine, but a realm beyond the death that watches us
or the loves that have been lost

I no longer want to be a child, for those years carry a thick layer of forgotten dust

I no longer want to be a child, for those years carry a thick layer of forgotten dust,
where every corner hides a room where I learned to forget how to breathe,
and memories are like shadows dancing silently on the walls of time.
Returning would mean shattering myself on the same silent and cold corners,
on the same

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