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Kelly Mistry
Sunken below the surface
                                                   J u s t out of reach
                     Yet underlying everything

Motivations                             emotions
   ­                       experiences                       memories

WHY do we do what we do?
The reasons you say aloud
Or think
Or believe
Is that really the whole story?

Or are you neck deep in a buried river?
Caught in the currents
      Past pains
                          Future fears
                                                Unacknowledged desires

It happens to everyone
To you
To me

We can be d r i p p i n g wet and completely
                                                                ­                unaware
Denying our senses
Lying to ourselves
To others

Motivations are never singular
Buried rivers are everywhere

                   ­                     i
The water level may r
Or  f

But it will never run dry

Sometimes we can look in the water
Read what is written in the currents
Decipher the meaning

Sometimes the water is opaque
Unwilling to give up its secrets
Even to the one
                              it springs from

Secrets can be inherited
Preserved through time
Handed down to the next generation
Those can be the d
                           ­          e
                     ­                      e
               ­                                  t
Har­dest to see
Hardest to decipher

Understanding doesn’t always calm the waters

                    to buoy us up                                               above the water
It can help                           So we can keep our heads

Watching someone being swallowed by their river is frustrating
Especially if they think they are standing on dry land

And won’t accept                             help to stay afloat
                                 that they need

I am learning to swim in my depths
Decipher what I can
Have patience with the secrets
that it keeps from me still

Each time I look below
More is revealed

Even as new
                       experiences                          interactions
Add new currents
And keep the river running deep,
                                                              ­         and true
He didn't tell me to keep it,
But I know a secret when I hear one.
When bad habits are normal
regular behaviors are horrible
Irregular behavior seems abnormal from discomfort of acting different but I now see the good that comes from being uncomfortable.
Delyla Nunez
I am the problem,
It’s unfathomable.
The truth makes it’s way,
Just for it all to go down the drain.
It is for the lack of affection I give,
To mislead through the grief.
For I am the problem,
And you all,
Were perfect.
a lesson you will learn,
before your life comes to an end
is that the grave is dug the deepest,
For the ones putting you in
everything is all right now
it's okay
everything is the way it's supposed to be

go to sleep
you're good enough
close your eyes

close your eyes
take off your clothes
you're good enough

take off your clothes
i'm thinking of ending things
yesterday i woke up on the phone

buildings rearranged

all the scarecrows
and everything
everything's ending.
i don't know if this is good, i'd appreciate feedbacfjsdf;osdlyesterday i woke up on the phone listening to the radio eysteday i fell asleep in the pool witheiswek it all in its right place Confused Yet?

Sorry if this is difficult and esoteric, thats the pointi don't know if this is good, i'd appreciate feedbacfjsdf;osdlyesterday i woke up on the phone listening to the radio eysteday i fell asleep in the pool witheiswek it all in its right place Confused Yet?

Sorry if this is difficult and esoteric, thats the point. Things are just somewhat difficult and lonely, and it's hard to articulate it. nevertheless, i try.
She keeps songs
locked away in boxes
like secrets.
She will take them out
like postcards
to help her remember
the feeling of
a different time,
a different person
by her side.
She likes the one
that makes her
eyes close
to see the lights.
She smiles at
the one that  
makes her stand
up on tiptoes,
the one that
helps her forget
she doesn’t know
what to do
with her hands.

The tune
will carry her.

Like it did
the times when
voices broke
like a heart.
When instruments’ strings
would snap
and hurt.
our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine
Darting silver-greys
Merriment deep in the dell
Elven hide and seek!

© Rob perspiring-poet
Still early days with haiku. Not easy!
Tom Dodd
Wise man say:

Words spoken and then eaten
always spoil your supper

Man with big mouth
always looking for missing foot

Leave molehills as molehills
Mountains are god’s work

Temper your words with seasoning
for you may have to eat them
stop watching me
stop waving
don't stare from the windows
i am not yours
i'm not a show
please just act like you don't know me
strangers rather than enemies
but don't try to get close to me
neutrality doesn't have to make us buddies
i just want things to be easy
i want to go to work and go to school without problems and have my stupid little crush without any stupid drama
Frances Raeburn
I’ve got a ride to
probably end up being
still I’ve got a ride to
could talk the driver into
one more passenger?
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
I want something
I can't
have you ever
seen the sky
so blue

you forgot red and yellow?
m h John
i spent my life trying to please
someone with a twisted disease
i broke myself down
and tucked my feelings away
to become the person
they wanted me to be
i let myself be watched
through the glass of a two sided mirror
of a sociopath
i wallowed my spirit away
and begged for acceptance
but there’s nothing in the world
that i could do
to let the narcissist know
that i am human too
the only thing that can please a narcissist is being miserable
Sydney Rose
my one wish is
to find someone
who sees the world
as beautiful as i do
with their mouth
preaching poetic beauty
as i have once did
to all the boys
i have loved
words are stuck
in my throat—
and comes out
as tears.
somehow it's hard to express feelings, but you need to let them out. so, I guess—it's okay to cry it out.
Things wont be the same after this.
I know that they weren't for me.

It takes time for these things to heal,
and it leaves a nasty scar.

But it's a scar you wear with your family,
It's a scar that keeps you strong.

Know that the sadness is okay,
know that I am never far.
This one is for you. I hope you are doing okay... I really, really hope that you are holding on.
Sharmila Juliet
She is a poem of his heart
He never disclosed
In front of anyone.
If you’re the one that’s so concerned about the world ending
Why are you trying so hard to bring it to it’s knees?
What if I never find myself
What if the road I walk is endless
I dream of finding way to stop
Of finding my way out
But there's no map
I'm in the labyrinth of my own thought
every poem I write
is me
trying to break free
from the shackles in my mind
A drop in ocean or ocean in a drop?
A world as self or self lost in that world?
A life that follows heart until it stops
What then will follow heart that is so cold?

The blinking lantern in the midst of night
And cracking snow that being lost in silence
Why then the void disturbed by what seems right
should be perceived as form of violence?
You were born near the warm ocean,
grew up around there,
With your clear acrylic smile
and sun-kissed blonde hair

I, the winter cold
More north than I can remember,
We met that day you visited,
a brisk chill, that December

We drank and danced,
while the years passed over
Argued and grew apart,
our greatest fears, now sober

My memories of you, once treasured
Now, faded
as sun deprived lands complain,
Forever, jaded
l̸̨̨̟̤̥̱͆̇͋́̀̀͘͜ȩ̸̧̮̳̣̣̾͊̀͝s̵͕̈́́ş̵̢̠͓̩̈́͜ ̴̛͙̙̤̿̉w̸̰͕̜͔̼͑̆̑͘ö̸̧̟̗͚̘̠́̾r̷̺̮͉͐̓̈́̓̋̿̆͛͝d̷͔̅̏̆̊̚̕s̶̠̺͒́͒̌͊̋̐̂ͅͅ­̨͔͔̟̯̤,̵̛̼̹̖̙̰̍̍͒ͅ ̴͚͕͔͎̤̜͋
̴͓͋́͑̅͒̊m̵̭̈́̋́͊̄͘o̸̮̫͇͉̍͛̇̅͂͒̑̕r̵̳̹͚̺͚̂̆͝ë̶͇̗̺̬͍̖́́ͅ ̵̘̙̣͉̏̇̂̏͐͑͑ͅs̵̲͔͛͋̈́̾̉̊̏͛̓͆k̴̯̳̞̪͕͂̆̌̈́͘͝͠ͅì̸̧̢͈͖̖̠͉̖̫̐͗̃̏̿͑ͅn̴̘͋­͍̤̳͓̙̲͍͕,̷̲͈͆̈̈́̂̑̓ ̸̭̩̭̲͐̆͊̓̑͌͜
̸̡͍̬̺̬̜̙́̈́̈́͝m̸̛̥̳͛̃͝o̶͓̔̏͗͋̄͌̓͝r̸̯͉̤̣̠̗͚̜̬͂͜e̶̛̓̐̄͊̌­͇̩̯͔͓͕̹̝̼̃̈́ ̷͕̾s̴̨̮̰̠̦̞̖̬̤̪̅̏̿̾į̶͚͓̈̎̋̄̀͂̓̇͝l̸̡̹̯͑̓̐͊̈́͆́͌̚͝e̵͖̰͑̎̿͒̒͠͝n̸̛̑̋̚­̨̫̹͍́͝c̵̛̳̤̻̞̠̲͎̖̯̓̎͌͝ē̶͇̟̦͖,̸̧̘̦͔͔͚̙̼̳̤̿͂͘͘ ̶̻̘̼̞͗́̍͋͠͝͠
̵̙̜̀m̸̝͒͒͐́̔̉̎́͌ͅo̸͕̙͕̭̮̟̱̠̒̆͌͗͗͆̕̕r̷̹͎̈ẻ̶͇̜̮̦͒͌̊̾ ̶̖͍̪̩̪̥̺̾̏̐̿̈s̷̡̼̲̈́ͅͅi̷̗̇̃̀͌̓̉̃͝n̶͕̐̓͆́̄.̶̧̖͈̮̲̲̺̜̦̈̄͐̎̔̆͠͝ͅ
take me out.
Mahdi Akhloumadi
On the mirrors
Should be written;
"spoiler alert".
Raygan Emma Jane
When we sleep
I imagine that we go to the same place
I picture you
Your tattoos and red wine stained teeth
You smell like ice cream and you taste like it too
Everything that you love
Looks like me
It’s so real sometimes that when I reach out for you
I can feel you reaching back
In my dreams you say everything that I want to hear
But you mean it
I’d stay under these sheets forever just to believe it
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
Where do you go?
You just died
I could see it
Like a thousand times

One step ahead
Fond of planning
Like the sharpest knife
Always stabbing

Bury your secrets
Under the birdbath
In your backyard
Through the red path

And I won't look for signs
My eyes wide shut
Still find yourself
Among prison walls
Em Glass
Oh, people.
Always saying something
different than they mean.
Always covering themselves
and then rolling up the sleeves--
that happens, I believe.
In the end
didn’t matter
your last look
the most
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
i find that i write the best
just after a fight
just after i've cried
just after the tears have fallen

doesn't matter what story it is
happy, sad, mysterious
funny, tragic, ridiculous
i will always write it well

because any story i write
after a fight, after i've cried
is a story that gives me the most comfort
because any fiction

is better than this.
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
I don't know what it is but I lost it.
He’d rather be angry than numb,
and so the feeling boils within him.
It swiftly moves through his body,
poisoning all that it touches.
The feeling settles,
burrowing deep into his worn bones.
The darkness surrounds him.
When the sun rises, he does too.
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
My Mind the prison.
My Heart and Soul prisoner.

The chains,
Anxiety and Depression.

My Body the canvas,
Mindful of my Oppression.
Hannah Richburg
I thought if I could swallow the stars
I’d be as beautiful as the evening sky
I tried one night    with fireflies
They burned my throat
Their legs striking at soft flesh
But my skin did not glow
No moon crawled from my eye sockets
I was left with corpses in my stomach
I soon learned I would only ever be
A cemetery
Deity Queen
"Though it was at my hands, it was your weight that suffocated me."
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