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 355° 
Opal Wood
She was easily manipulated
She was easily influenced
She was easily encouraged
She was easily involved
She was easily intoxicated
She was easily broken
She was easily bitter


She was me and I was her
She was parts of my recovery
She was who I no longer want to be
 300° 
Ash
I'll unravel our thread before it's even spun
my dreaming and my pining and my manifestations
they'll be smoke choking out our garden before it's even planted
 113° 
max
The smell of rain
comes into the room with him.
My heart sunk to my stomach.
As hard as I tried,
I couldn't move.

Fight, Flight, or Freeze?

The sound of his voice filled the room,
and it blurred the rest of my life.
The smile left my face when I heard him.
There he was,
and here I go
I ran as far away as I could.
I had to make sure he was gone.

Fight, Flight, or Freeze?

But I can't fight,
can I?
He fills me with fear,
leaves me speechless in the worst way
makes me leave the things I love most,
just to feel safe within my own mind
As much as I may want to fight,
I can't.
I'm too scared

Fight, Flight, or Freeze?
No.
Flight or Freeze?
also about that ex
 89° 
Marshal Gebbie
Read the words upon the page
Depicting how was such an age
That, then, ensconced in everyday
In truth, permitted Hell to play.

Where age with all it's wisdom gleaned
Should logically be rightly seen
As guidance for emerging youth
Where past mistakes impart as truth.

Though tragically, bereft as seen,
The actuality now doth scream
For youth doth relegate to grass
Aged wisdom's pearls.... as shattered glass.

Dispersed amid the flotsam tide
Lies that which salves salvation's hide,
Lies that which wreaks of God's works, twist,
Dispersed through cold, Alzheimer mist.

The waste of ancient eyes at rest
Expelled, devoid of life, at best
But should a crisis start to burn
Old minds may co-opt young to learn?

History makes the paradigm
That thumps the lesson home, with time,
In squandering the wealth of age
We burn the story, tear the page.

Now delegated to the shelf
Immersed in indignation's self
Old wallow in blue pity's taint
Inhibited by self restraint.

But then the moment comes around
When happenstance, by chance compound,
When youth, of clear complexioned face,
May stumble into mute disgrace....

Thence whilst the Angel trumpets grace
Whence in that vacant, silenced space,
Then flows of wisdom tumble thine
From lips that spake in ancient time.

Knowledge held in Holy Grail
Empirically forth then, when regaled,
As pomp and circumstance decreed
Should all, combined then, .... be agreed?

M.
9th December 2022
Foxglove@Taranaki,NZ.
Oh! the frustration of the aged at being sidelined by the arrogance of emergent youth.
The impertinence of the transfer of power and influence from one era to the next and the ever present wastage of invaluable lessons learned and priceless experience, gained from the labour of the travails of time.
M.
 71° 
Sara
When you kissed me, I lied.

I let you kiss me because I wanted someone to love me.  
I was selfish, I wanted to soothe my craving for attention, soft and kind love.

It’s because you’re warm and safe, I still do get the urge to trust you with love.
In fact you’re handsome while so insecure.

But I shouldn’t have kissed you, because I knew I didn’t want you but your aroma.
I chewed it and played with it to spare your feelings and to ebb my shame

but believe me, I’m happy to have made your acquaintance on that awful day that appeared on paper as perfect.
On the day when the last one I loved, introduced me to you
My poems have started taking sound of a prose?, not sure where it came from
 45° 
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)
 44° 
M
I never know what say  

a memory of longing
is painful as it keeps

decaying in my chest

putting my love on paper
doesn't take it away
it amplifies the sting
trying to move on

infecting the open cavity of my being

you read my words like you understand
but I'm lost in a memory of what would have been

trying to collect shattered pieces of my own self

emptied and dancing whisked into the shadows
like the end of a dream

feverishly waking up because my feelings weren't received

give them but don't get them
like as if I sent a letter of longing

never in return
I try to write but the words are my tears
drink up
and only then you will feel the same
as I do
 39° 
Hadrian Veska
For anyone interested, I've made my first audio available for YouTube. I've made a channel where I'll be reading some of my better works as well as new ones I create. Hopefully they continue to get better in terms of quality as I progress. Thank you so much, link below.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ns33IygDURE&ab_channel=HadrianVeska
 28° 
Ellis Reyes
Mental health
Is my favorite
Oxymoron

Jumbo shrimp
Is next…
 24° 
Ameed
I don't care
I never did
I never will

I don't care about the stabs
I don't care about the lies
I don't care about the loss

I never did
I never will

I don't care about you abandoning me in the middle of nowhere or making me doubt every single person I meet or forcing me to look at the mirror and despise the foolishness I had.

I don't care about all the above.

I try to convince myself every night that I don't.
But, I do;
I fully keenly wholesomely do care and my care was my doom.
© Ameed
 23° 
Shaun Yee
Scorching flames burn on the left
Freezing cold awaits on the right
Walking the tightrope of everyday life
Keeping the final destination in sight
He’s walked for five and seventy years
Towards a glimmering light
But a few slips are enough to set one back
Still he’ll walk into the night
 23° 
Micaela
it’s official—
i hate being alone.
this isn’t a poem
but
it’s words
i needed to say
my negative thoughts aren’t the best of company
 21° 
Anastasia
I'm
Tired
Of
B
R
E
A
T
H
I
N
G

Tired of

S
E
   E
    I
     N
       G

This hatred in humanity
And
The
Delicates
Being

T    O     R    N

Apart
So quickly
Without listening
To their glistening
Fragile
Beautiful words
I'm sorry, beautiful people. You all are very much so.
 19° 
V
If you don't heal what hurt you,

You'll bleed on people who didn't cut you.
</3
inhale
deeply...
exhale
slowly…
inhale
love...
exhale
fo­rever…
Into our December...


My memories take flight,
scattering the light,
and the darkness,
upon each of our lives and loves.
Exposing life’s true colors—
Dripping to the ground,
An enchanting shade of crimson,
and regret.

~
~ Shane Christopher
 14° 
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.
 13° 
emnabee
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.
 13° 
A
I can’t decide
if I’m comforted by the fact
that every thought  
I’ve ever had
has probably been had
before

And I don’t know
which is worse
That we are, perhaps
incredibly,
undeniably
not special at all
Or that we incredibly,
undeniably
are
June 21, 2019
 12° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

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
 12° 
FrankieM
I can only pour so much
Of myself into you
You say I'm half empty
I say I'm half full

It's hard to stay gentle
When you've been so cruel
I say I'm in love
You say I'm a fool
 12° 
Mote
i want to write about things that aren't mine. this is not a day for god and i'm sad. i'm sorry for being sad. i want to know what else happened in 1992 but i am a false believer. this means a lot of things. most aren't mine. someone hold me.
 12° 
nvinn fonia
the end
the end
 11° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 10° 
Teemers
I only write,
when
I am in love
or
Falling apart.
 10° 
Ashley Campriani
I'll give my love to beauty
No matter what the cost
I will give my heart to peace
No difference what I've lost

I'll give my mind to clarity
And to my soul - sincerity

I'll reach out for kindness
I'll taste its sweet surrender
I'll give in to my dreams
I'll be truth's defender

With every fiber of my being
I will seek and find my joy
No matter what bridges burn
Or what my pursuit would destroy

I'm tired of always being tired
I'm weary from all that's transpired
Im sick of searching for a home
That my heart has never known

I'm done being so downcast
I'm through with my unforgiving past
Its all quickly fading into history
I'm looking forward into victory
 10° 
haysia
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.
 10° 
sun
she soaks herself in his hurt
and it d
            r
            i
            p                
     ­       s                
                         o
                         u
                          t

of him
ever so slowly,
infecting her.
all she wanted was for him to be
drained
so he could live without pain
but now, she thinks
living is pain.
 10° 
neha
remember when we were carefree
and nothing used to worry me
the neighbourhood was my kingdom
and the front yard was my palace

we used to play pretend
worlds of magic and fantasy
we made up spells and slayed dragons
but now i’m fighting my mind’s demons

ignorance was b l i s s
when did we become like this?
 9° 
Jordan Ray

           Love                                  is                      
wr­itten                    in                    stone
       which                                slowly
             fades                          to
                   sand                   ..                                          
                    ­     ..                 ..
                             . . . . . . .
                              . . . . . .
                                . . . .
                                  . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 9° 
Kayla Gallant
My mind is much like the sea
The deeper you go
The darker it gets
Rough outline, might expand at a later date ❤️
 9° 
Ann
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"Keep your eyes closed, love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do."

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
 9° 
Madds
It’s the kind of sadness where your rib cage
Contorts
And twists and
Snaps.

Depression doesn’t float through my veins
It crawls through my bones, with dagger hands
And winding movements.

I cannot breathe.

And yet there was nothing taken from me.
But then again you took everything all at once the moment you looked in my eyes, covered my mouth and forced me down.

I don’t know why your smell still lingers in my every thought.

I’m not scared anymore.
 9° 
Veda Laurenski
You are the sea.
You are cruel.
You are cold.
And I love you.
 9° 
Enzo
The weirdest dream
I ever had
was you
not being in it
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