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Cassia Jackson Oct 2020
they tell me that we’re made of stardust,
but i don’t feel like something so glorious.

i feel like the dark side of the moon,
like the space between worlds,
like the howling void,
and the empty cascade of dying suns.

i feel like silence,
like i’m screaming with no one to hear me.
Poetic T May 2020
An avalanche of empathy
             dislodged
covering me in suffocating
                                realisation.

That I wasn't the mountain,
       more the snow.
               Soft and delicate,
   sentiment never compacted enough.
Tori Schall Oct 2019
In my life there are three things:
A feeling of emptiness,
a hollow laugh and blank face,
Hiding behind a mask

I wonder day by day
nothing changing
the world around me is unimportant.
In my life there are three things:

My own emotions elude me
they go about their days
hiding in the back of my brain
a feeling of emptiness

Upon my face there sits
a person I don't know
Because of all I ever am is
a hollow laugh and blank face

Day by day, night by night
nobody ever bothers to look
but I never bother to tell, I'm
hiding behind a mask
This is my first attempt at a cascade poem
Jessica Chaidez Apr 2019
Water running through toes and over elbows.
Cascading down forearms and up necks.

Falling in stampedes from underneath eyelids
PIT PAT
PIT PAT
PIT PAT
Onto shoelaces and ankles and
Fabric draped across our laps.

This is the feeling of an afternoon spent entangled in
Covers. The sensation of a cold breeze
Swooping us up on its burdensome wings
Only to ask “Where’s my tip?” and the shrugging shoulders
That follow. The rattle of empty pockets. The
Shattering of glass and a cry for HELP
So incredibly ARDUOUS it slices your throat
Like a steel blade
SSSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSS
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSSS
SS­SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
And the clock doesn’t stop ticking
Around and around until you’re too dizzy.

This is the feeling of water running through toes and over elbows. Cascading down forearms and up necks. This is the feeling of an afternoon spent entangled in covers. The feeling of a cold breeze swooping us up on it burdensome wings. The feeling of a cry so arduous it slices your throat like a steel blade.
Samreena Lodhi Dec 2018
In the cascade of my feelings,

a steep precipice separated the ways

disconnecting every bit from you

left me waiting on the long days
Anthony Mayfield Jun 2018
When it rains,
It pours.
Cascading down,
I guess I’ll go home,
And stay there,
To hide.
Forget about my prior notion.
I guess I'll go home, and stay there to hide
Lilli Blakk Jul 2017
Find me.
Callouses bubble born of survival
Barefooted, bare-backed branding
It's ******-tribal.

It's in the bible.
Something on makeshift witchcraft
An (in)impatient scripture draft
Find me.

All of us, answers for anatomy.
Grey slate, tabula. And. scar tissue tough
Illness or just ill-wish is brainstem spinal
Callouses bubble born of survival.  

Instinctive. Normal.
What we learned when the books were burned  
Cave paintings made in the padded cage
Barefooted bare backed branding.

Now, make it gentle.
Through looking glass, exhausted paragraphs
Be blind to the bodies and dance
It's ******-tribal.
They never were very nice to us back then
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