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 375° 
Zoe Grace
Idk
Darkness surrounds me
There isnt another way to describe it
I cannot hear anything
But does that mean i am alone?

A tail flicks past my eyes
Fur tickles my legs
Eyes burn red
Basked in shadow

Is that a man standing in the corner
Looking at me with his
Head tilted and smile wicked
Or is it my imagination?
Its late and im tired but i cant sleep so im hallucinating. Also i dont want to go to sleep because last night i experienced sleep paralysis and i dont wanna go through that **** again
 207° 
Lovely Nobody
thing can be different
from different point of views.
the same sceneries can be dull
or they can be filled with hues.

the flickering flame can burn
or the flame can be warm.
the water can quench thirst
or the water can bring storm.

we don't have to think alike,
we don't have to be the same.
for some people my words could mean
and for some they could be lame.
I see a world where everyone bleed feelings into everything they do
you might see it as a labyrinth  of forgotten people.


if we are not different then, who are we?
 170° 
Semihten5
every view
big secret
for eyes
 146° 
Olivia V
Moonlight on pale skin
Soft lips part in desire
Lovers in the night
 126° 
Anne
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.
 111° 
Donna
Hmm I've only got a
few likes today hmm maybe
my writings not good

Why am I even
writing what's it's all about
What's the point , I only feel

anxious now , deep breaths
Now I feel silly why did
I write that , oh jeez

heart beating feel sick!!
Then my self doubt passes and
I'm back to lovely

place again! Self doubt
sure can grip me making me
feel really down! But you

see writing helps dig
through negativity , am
I a poet or not

Maybe , I'm not sure
But I'm much more too , I'm a
wife a mum a sister

a friend. I've wrote my
heart out for five years now non
stop to be honest

But now I'm in such
a lovely place of content
I'm living happy

Of course I still get
life stresses hit me and yeah
I get negative

But one thing I can
always rely on is my
passion for writing

It helps mentally
to keep me strong and focus
May it come from my

heart or mind or once
in awhile I like to write
stories , fun fun fun :)

I'm slowing down now
Gone and got myself married :)))
Tis so wonderful

Children are growing
up fast , there leading there own
life's more every day

So I'm finding new
hobbies to keep me active
Life changes happen

But to write , will be  
in me always , tis part of me
it's just there always

So to all who love to
write have fun dry those tears up
Find your happy place :))
Have a lovely week ahead :)) love to u all xxxx
 105° 
Mitch Prax
It’s important
not to take these things personally.
Sometimes people hate you
through no fault of your own.
And sometimes people push you away
just because they’re afraid of what
will happen if you get too close.
And sometimes people leave
because they came to realize
that you weren't right for them
before you could realize that
they weren't right for you.
And that's okay because
not everybody can
love you.
 103° 
Luis A Estable
My darling's mouth is a spring.
The one that kisses and pleases.
My darling is just eighteen,
A flower fresh and clean.
 103° 
Lemon
all of my negative thoughts,
encircling my mind,
making me seem,
almost colourblind.
 97° 
Wyatt
I haven’t shed a tear
but deep in my soul
there’s a sea that could
flood the entire world
Sometimes I wish I could cry and sometimes I wish there was a shoulder to cry on.
 86° 
Penguin Poems
If want was water,
I would be drowning, my head under completely
and my oxygen quickly depleting.
If confusion was cold,
My fingers would be numb and I wouldn't even
have a coat to ward off the freezing.
If youth was you,
It would be slipping away by the second,
And I can't get a hold to stop it.
Now,
my air is gone,
I'm shivering to the bone,
and can't keep a hold on.
But, this is only a poem:
I know I'm not suffocating, subzero, or slipping.
But I can't help but feel like the more I write,
the farther I get from reality
and the closer I get to metaphor mortality.
I used
him
as a
pillow
to cry
on.
I found the deepest honesty
In the wild
Raw
Side of humanity
The side that communes
With nature
That I can’t feel anymore
Through touch and gesture.
 72° 
sarah
late at night, i lie awake
thinking of things i should have said
all the mistakes i've made
and signs i should've read

then think about what i can't live without
you, front and center in my mind
sometimes it feels like halfway love
almost, but not quite

still, parts of you make me whole
who i am and who i need to be
i think of love letters that weren't torn up
feelings of blue and green

when i'm without you
blank page, artless innocence
i realize how dependent i've grown to you
and feel the need to create a distance

sometimes i look up at the purple sky
and wonder if you're looking too
i gaze at the colors and the beauty of it all
though its beauty would never compare to you
 65° 
Jordan Ray

           Love                                  is                      
wr­itten                    in                    stone
       which                                slowly
             fades                          to
                   sand                   ..                                          
                    ­     ..                 ..
                             . . . . . . .
                              . . . . . .
                                . . . .
                                  . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
 61° 
Strung
I don’t want to talk
Locked
Somewhere between my eyes and my trembling hands
I couldn’t hold the pencil
To tell you.

It fell from between my fingers
And I watched the chance to yell
Hit the ground
— my voice thins with your hair
 60° 
Blckstr
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
 55° 
Xaela San
I'm not "smart" like them.

I'm not "bright" as them.

I'm not "confident" like them.

I'm not "beautiful" as them.

I'm not "someone" like them.

Can you just accept that?

I don't like crying myself anymore

-Said myself in the mirror.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
 49° 
rose
...
I had coffee and a cigarette for breakfast
So yeah I'm doing fine
I've become good at taking weight off of other peoples shoulders
and
Searching for happiness in everything
:)
 46° 
elaine
my grip is slipping,
and falling scares me.
my world is fading away.
h      
          e
                     l
                             p
       m
                 e

h
          e
                    l
                          ­     p
          m
                     e

writing was an escape but even now words slip off the paper like tear drops.
why does it have to be like this?
 44° 
Hg
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.
©Hg
 43° 
Deanna
His words told your ears love
But your heart told you to run
 43° 
Asonna
I sit here alive,
                   but I'm empty inside...
 42° 
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.
And at the end,
I decided to
walked away
from you.
 39° 
Still Crazy
drrry spells

~for the r in all of us~

a normative condition, a kitchen condiment, an un-relished
pickle relish, when there in no hot dogged doggedly poem hot perspiration in the fridge or anywhere to be found; nothing but a top sliced bun, ah, plain buns, when old stale dog ones is all ya got left for dinner, during one of them there dry spells that no blonde tanned unweathered weatherperson ever forecast correctly

normative? Oh yeah.

the tyranny of the white, white bread, the white, whittle ya down screen, couture-cold water from tap direct, neck bent, jugged to try and fail to wash down that lumpen ball of dog fur brain drain clog that’s backing up the paper words, in a stomach churning brine holding you back from reaching the top of the Mt. Everest,

rite Norman?

Norman? Oh yeah. Son of Norma and Normally.
It’s in the bibell, look it up!

he is my pooka, (nope, uh-uh, look it up) a six foot tall rabbit,
climbing up my brain stem, strategically strangling my words like
a flea killer collar round my neck, one that actually visually works,
my flea bit words fall to the floor, to live with the dust mites descendants of the ole south, drafts and rejection letters, all whose blessed memory may never die etc. etc.

that was the condition of my condition when I dropped in
(yup, look it up),
Norman sarcastically asking, how’s the weather up there,
any rain in that-northern-brain, down here it’s as dry as an southern old dog panting on a porch in July, panting out summer hot poems write out like it’s crazy going out of style, oh yeah,
you don’t speak dawg that well.

so I don’t know nothing about your dry spells, just climb into
the hottest hot tub, staying all the summer months if necessary,
reading old poems about busted hearts, old dogs, unrealized loves that can’t be forgot, promises kept that one never made,
battlefields of yore, sweatin’ out the toxins till r
sends along a new one,
for I’m a mentally patient person,
whose never seen a drrry spell so long, that was not worth
wading thru, waiting for, till something busted out and
another thunderstorm of a literary good one, errr come along

like I said, I’m a mental patient man, still crazy after all these years...
(yup, that too, you could look it up if ya made this far)
 37° 
zz
lying next to you
same bed
still
continents apart


wondering
where your mind travels
and where your heart
lies
 36° 
Tyler Atherton
My Teenage years;
Teenage years with people saying 'sit down and shut up'
Teenage years with no one caring
Teenage years with physical abuse
Teenage years with razor blades
Teenage years with no mother
Teenage years with bottles of pills
Teenage years with ****** assualt
Teenage years with suicide attempts
Teenage years with no reason to live
Teenage years spent pining for what was lost.



© Copyright Tyler Atherton
 35° 
Heavy Hearted
Im a poet and a painter
And a meandering musician

And I've hopes that somehow my
Art'll pay for my tuition.
I know it's not about the facts
Or my intuition
I wont believe all that I'm shown
For I know its superstition.
And you know Im not a doctor
Or even a practition
But heres some medicine myself perscribed
To help with this condition.
The dizzyness and neasuea
And the most dishonest vision..
May this writing reach my soul
In its keen perscision
And help me make every right move
Help make the right decision.

When there's so many unfathomable things we are
I choke on that recognition.
all my life
i've been preparing faces
to meet the faces that
i've met

friends
family
the man who delivers newspapers
at our doorstep each morning

i've laughed at their silly jokes
as they tossed their heads from side to side
in naive stupidity and their sheer ignorance
a pompous lot, the human race i tell you

i've acknowledged their staunch morals
and tried to make them my own
as they scorned at the girl in a skimpy dress
and chewed on mutton bones gluttonously

all my life, i've been trying hard
to blend in
with people who've shown me
that i don't belong with them

and tonight when i shed gallons of tears
i have only my bed and pillow to share
i've learnt that my sadness
is my very own
just a sad girl writing to survive
Give me a break,
Some rest I need,
Let me think
What I did in my life.
 32° 
Katinka
You
the one with messy brown hair
brown eyes
with you birthmark over the left side of your face.
You who left me crying.
You who made me believe in love for the first time.
You who stole my first kiss
first time
first.

You
with your straight blonde hair
blue eyes
and that stupid smirk
You who left me broken
You who showed me a new way of living
You who left me being second choice
second best
second.

You
with your dark blonde hair
hazel eyes
you with your beautiful hands
You who left me angry
You who showed me a different way of love
You who went with me on my third concert
third love
third.

You
with your curly brown hair
hazel eyes
with your cute braces you never liked
You who left me questioning
You who showed how hard love can be
You who decided I wasn´t worth it
You never happend
We never did.

I
with wavy dark brown hair
hazel eyes
with freckels on my face

I who loved everyone of you
but still couldnt forget you,
number two

I who loved everyone of you
but you left me wanting more,
number four

I who loved everyone of you
was being loved.
but not anymore.
Usally I write my poems on paper first, and then I will reread them and think about them, may make some changes and then upload them here. But in this very second I am just so full of emotion that I want to write and I want it to be honest so no rereading or correcting. Just me.
 32° 
n oa
you keep me awake,
i feel you in my veins.
 32° 
Kora Sani
i anchor
myself
to the back
of your mind
you wish
me away
but here
i still linger
 29° 
Driah
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you

But the roses are wilted
The violets are dead
The sugar bowl is empty
And my wrists are stained red
AND BEHOLD!! A thing
boys look like boys
girls look like girls
boys look like girls
girls look like boys

people look like people

and that is all that I see

every single beautiful soul
worth living

especially the bus driver
who just flicked me off

she’s more deserving
than most.
 29° 
Sky
You tend to me
in a way
no one else has before,
letting me grow
anew.
 28° 
Lovely
You know
You’re in trouble
When the silence
In a room
Is louder
Than the static
 28° 
Lexie
We have our own world in the same world as everyone else
 28° 
Justyn Huang
Finding your voice
means screaming into
All the wrong places
until One day--

You hear your echo
calling your name.
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