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We will meet again
Excited and worried
These endless thoughts
Bothers me unknowingly
Wondering if I could speak
When you are in-front of me
Those sparkly eyes, and—
That sweetest smile I see
Will I confess or just be silent
Mesmerized by your beauty
That looks like an art—
Can be seen from the gallery
Tears fell on my cheeks
Slowly sinking inside of me
That I will see you again
A moment that requires time
To be repeated once in a while
wrote this 3 days before the concert that I have been waiting to happen after one year.
And just like that, dear,
I pulled the knives from my heart
And let the scars heal.
I feel empty inside
I feel a thousand oceans away
From the happiness you once gave me
My cheeks are wet
My lips are dry
Pain is the only thing that remains,
And I cry
For both of us
For everything beautiful we could have been
Lost forever. Love is a curse.
Stefan Smith
depression depression depression

Stop it.


I is me and
you are you.
Seperate from identity
yet your lies root to my core.
I can't help but listen as
gravity gradually seems heavier

You can feed on me
that's fine.
Distort my reality
and take my smile.
But you will never take my hope.

The endless source behind the
Of my soul.
You'll never cease the
I in me.

So form each woe,
but forever is my soul.
Endureth this universe.

Go ahead.

Take me.

depression depression depression
Ilene Bauer
In Hamlet’s famed soliloquy,
“To be or” (maybe) “not to be,”
He questions life – is taking breath
A better deal than choosing death?

Another quote, among a slew,
Is this: “To thine own self be true,”
A brilliant and perceptive thought
Which few obey, though most are taught.

“We are such stuff as dreams are made on”
Actors cry on stages played on,
Which refers to both the play
And also to our lives each day.

Some Shakespeare gems to celebrate
His birthday, which was on this date.
Though some believe that’s all a sham,
I don’t! Am I a fan? Iamb!
I can no longer hide
My soul ignited

once disparaged
I long to share it

The chills in my spine put into words

Lips on skin
Eyes filled with sin

What is this sensation

I drip colors you cannot see

Heightening my passion
Enhancing my touch

Raw emotion channeled as such

My desire aches
The color of flush
My cage breaks
Expressions of lust

I do not fear it
I can hear you blush

My favorite sound

Our souls combust
My restless soul longs for something fulfilling
Grace Espinoza
I stand for
The thousand versions of myself
That no one else stood for

Every single child
Who will grow into women like me
That copes with trauma
Put upon them

No concept of normality
When the hands we trust
Begin to touch
To tear
To take
What was never theirs in the first place

For all the women who ache
For her tongue to articulate
The lost art of language
She’ll never quite annunciate
For it’s grasping at strings
They’re unraveling

I stand for people
Who paths I’ll never touch
Who dance on the margins
Flowers through concrete

For a beating heart
Is enough commonality
For me
they say if you
could go back in time
to meet a young
would you shoot him
right away
or let history
just sit there

would you try to
tell him what might be
if he becomes a

would you maybe wait
until you knew
if he could
really destroy
you too

would you kill
him with no qualms
saying it was evil
blood on
your palms

or would you,
like me, have
a change of heart
and try to teach
that little Hitler
If anger was a colour
what would it be?

stereotypical blush red
or would it be
the black slashes on a page

the its overs and the i'm sorry's

maybe its the grey of an oncoming storm
waiting for it to move on

If only it were that easy
to describe emotions
s  e  n  s  a  t  i  o  n  s
and feelings

but in reality
you can't

because we as human beings
are much more complex

we are the changing currents
and rolling waves

blending into one
Her beauty-
stunning like a shooting star soaring across an abandoned night sky.

Her personality-
vibrant as an early morning sunrise.

Her hair-
beautiful as a Christmas snow.

Her smile-
warming like a summer night bonfire

Her lips-
gentle as a baby butterfly

Her skin-
smooth like Mulberry silk

Her thoughts-
endless like a rainbow

Her heart-
mountainous like the Appalachian Trail

Her love-
addicting like a drug

And her laugh-
precious and breathtaking like the 7 wonders of the world
This beautiful girl has me losing my mind. I can't and won't stop thinking about her.
she sits in the dark

a toke to her lips

pain forgotten

she blew rings to the wind

with half moon eyelids

she inhaled a philsosphers dream

lost amongst the stars

the moment a poet
falls in love with you

is the moment
you live

f o r e v e r
people change everyday
so i vow to fall in love with you
every time the sun rises

JJsbdksndkkdmxmjshJustletmediemmmkbhbxjdnxnbdjxbdnxnnxnxnImsotire­dofthisnsjs nkksbdndnbdthese tears wontstopjdjdnn znjsnndudndkdknfkdmssnfnjdndnndbdbdbdnWhythepainstilllivesin myheartjjxnxjxjdn mykdjdvjsndjcjndndncnxkxnkxndkdkjdnskxhjshdjddndeImsofuckingtired­msnndksnxonshxidnkxndjsjdbjdkslmsndjjdbdisbdjjdksndjdhbsndnndjdjd­ndnd

Youllneverunderstand me
zahra wang
           cherry red
                and ever so
          ­                                      could i
                                      invite them over
                   so they could lay
         ever so softly
on mine?
kiss me before you go
Ciel Noir
We are such            clever creatures to divide
Most everything             into its different sides
With chaos versus             order, dark and light
The stark duality of         wrong and right
We even split the very        world in two
With human versus human,       we and you
But still no matter how much      we divide
Each thing has infinitely many      sides
I buried your bones, I buried your skin, buried your hooks that hung my mind akin...

I emptied your closet, I emptied the walls, I've emptied the garden of roses and thorns...

I broke the vases, I've broken the dishes, I've broken myself into submission...

I've pulled the blinds, I've pulled the bedsheets, I've pulled the nerve to reckon your touches...

And as much as I'm hiding, as much as I'm blaming, as much as I'm crying in vain over paining...

I rattle the hangings, I battle my god, I scatter belongings that don't matter at all...

It's begining to occur the way back is hard, to places we made in oceans and stars...

You're a part of the air now, I'm breathing dense it's heavy, maybe I can try and walk out of the mess, but the drag's too much to resist...

The warmth of the floor still persists on the floorboards where you stood, so cold and lonely you were, I kept ignoring the truth...

What hurts the most is that I knew yet I kept it low, I slept every night beside you, and let the spaces grow,

I can hear the curtains screaming, cursing with every sip of the wind, to reveal these hands I denied her and let her scream within,

There's words to speak,
I say to these walls where we sneaked,
To kiss to breathe each other,
Where we laughed at every situation
Just like lovers....We were
I wish I'd said it then,
I fathom you still bound to the wall,
Eyes looking at their reflection in mine,
Like knowing that we lovers would fall...
This is my first poem here guys,  I'd love support and appreciate every beautiful gesture.
If you liked it,
Could you take a minute and help me get this poem some thumb ups? Perhaps a few hearts?
Nat Lipstadt
one more for t.m.

her given name is not woman
but human of the feminine,
the fem in the human mine,

12:10am 4/16/17
BJ Donovan

We bought a broken dog
and took him to our broken home
to live with this broken family.
We tried to fix him with broken
training. I was too broken to get
it right. The more I yelled the more
broke he got. I had a drunken insight
one evening walking him in a full moon.
He reminded me of me in my childhood.
I saw things through his broken eyes
and held him close. I promised I'd fix us.
I'd adopted myself from a dog shelter.
                         ­    simply
i keep trying to write about her,
but words don't do her justice.

how many flowery pictures can a poet paint,
how many images of love and romance and soft care can you create,
before it loses all meaning?

there's no dancing flower petals when we talk,
no lightning racing through my nerves,
no stars shining their light on us and us alone.

there's only peace, as we laugh our way through a video game we're failing,
as we try to work in each other's company and get distracted in an instant,
as we comfort each other and understand each other, in the way that two depressed, anxious teenage girls have to.

it was her birthday last week. i made her a muffin, and got her some cute socks.
maybe i could've done something more grandiose,
but she held my hands and looked at me like i hung the moon.

we embraced, casually, easily.
the spring sun warmly graced our bodies.
there were no nerves, no pounding heart, no flowers or lightning or stars;
just peace.
i have a crush on my best friend, and i'm perfectly happy with how things are now-- it's nice, not wanting to start a relationship, since our friendship is so great already. she's amazing and i love her so much :) i hope you're having a nice day! spring is in bloom!!! <3 <3 <3
zelle ma belle

(zelle is an interbank system for sending cash in an instant to someone else’s bank account)

sent her an unexpected $250,
at 4:00am, of course,
a check-plus for her life,
because she revel reviews her day at school,
as special person day, teaches them well, and
anointed, appointed unsolicited confirmation by them
“as part of our family”
how they crave her body, her touch, at scary movie parts,
her kitchens diner size menu,
her refusal to ever disappoint,
her candy drawer supreme,
her crayon color visions which they execute,
her zen sense of their moods,
and for me,
for calling them without hesitation
my grandchildren

indeed more here hers than mine
she asks me why the $$ and poet doesn’t lie
but thinks quick at 7:30 am while bed prone,
“you won Nana of the Day award”
the only parent on the floor with two kids in her lap,
for the magic show,
the rest, benched, chattingly adultry things

she thinks on it and says
“ok, I accept!”

p.s. also,  I have yet to inform her of the (my) elimination of a
crystal champagne flute while doing my manly cleanup  from Friday night lights dinner pink champagne celebrating  
le weekend’s arrival

Medb ó hAodha
two lives
two moralities
two vices i can’t give up

two bottles
two pound entry
two am and i’m stumbling home

two bodies
two moans
two people trying to feel alive

too broken
too chaotic
too hard to make this choice
i just feel like im being pulled between two lifestyles and i have to choose which to follow. im called to surrender everything but i just cant give it up. im cloning myself, creating two different personalities which i can switch between, given the situation. and now i dont know which one is the real me.
i fell in love
and suddenly the sea breeze separating our fingers brought them together
suddenly winter meant warmth
suddenly the sun didn’t set, it rose
and it rose in my chest
and my cheeks turned the brightest shade of pink
i have never felt rosier
i fell in love
and suddenly the sky echoed back to me in starlight
suddenly i had never seen a sea of stars so poetic in the way they flicker back and forth to one another
light years apart but still wholly aware of how bright each other shines;
light years apart and wholly unaware of their influence and how it makes a sad girl feel a part of something bigger
something full of so much light and then
i fell in love
and you were a star scape
but you weren’t light years away
i have held stardust
because i have held you
and i cannot look at the night sky
without thinking about how it will never resemble the glint in your eyes when you smile
i fell in love
and suddenly my skin was softer,
so was my voice
i fell in love
and suddenly i melted into the stardust that resides in your bones, melted into the way you spell out poetry upon my body, melted into the way your glow beams back to the sun in the morning, sunflower
i fell in love with you
and i can’t remember the universe being this beautiful
until i realised
it resides within you.
i don't know if you know, but i am in love.
Ruby Nemo
walking in a straight line
you won't listen to any whine
but when you call to interrupt
you won't interrupt anything at all.
everywhere I turn you'll turn
either following or admiring, but I truly can't care
I can admire your restless soul
and the days we spend
I'm able to pretend
stare at me until I cry
melting in your arms, I'm not the only one
laugh with me until I die
one wrong step and
Blood will take your name
one eye closed and the other on the cage
flooded with wisdom
tied up by memories
free me, I'm yours
neither my doing nor
yours in your little secluded reality
lie to me, make me feel better
shaking 'til a snowstorm blows
worries into flakes and I
will walk in a crooked line
maybe I'm high
maybe I'm shy
maybe I just want to be close to you
Parliament. 04-23-18
I hear the rhythmic clapping
And feel the pounding of feet on the ground
As dust swirls and dances around
While I sit facing the sun
In all her divine beauty.
Encased in the wood of the red gum tree,
I am at peace.
Burnum carves my totem outside
Surrounded by holy men,
Loved ones and ancestors.
This is my signifier and protection.
I am Miki the moon
Recently returned to my tribe
Heeding the call of the spirits.
My people mourn deeply
But know I will come again
To be at one with them,
First I must commune with the great creator
Rainbow spirit of the sky
For now is the time for dreaming.
Thank you everyone for the likes/ loves and comments, you made my day special!! :0)
emmie cosgrove
Please tell me your lies

How you saw a shooting star and thought of you and I

Because even when you’re pressed against me

All  my fingers ever touch is your skin as cold as ice

You’re running out of love to give

And it is eating me alive

So cover me in dishonesty

Make it sweet like honey -

I’ll allow these falsities to drip all over me

Because I’m not sure if I am strong enough to face the truth

As I know if you do see a shooting star you’ll think of you and -
Linnea Louise
you promised
we would
meet each other
one day.
we would go
crab fishing
and drink some wine,
looking at the sunset
a little bit drunk
on the sandy beach.
smelling the salty air.
it was just empty words.
meant everything to me,
and nothing for you.
I am just a bunch
of flowers you
got tired of
hanged me on your
wall, my flower soul
dried like a desert.
dead from all the promises
you made.
beautiful but forgotten.
and it was so
simple for you
to just buy a
new bunch
of flowers.
False Poets
there is no value in a poem that reads
M M l i f e s u c k s x x x n o p o e m i g o t


nerve; crap bs, a denial of craft

seek the intelligent intelligible,
kiss the sensational thrill that
emotion harvests with resonating tenses
that beg our brains to differ, sense

this claims,
there is no value in no words is
a hoax cloaked as art by the weak,
make thy metaphors metastasize,
my every cell, a preposition,
preposterous and precious and
comforting in their
privations and provocations

speak to us in alpha and
line our eyes wide,
with pictures at an exhibition
of a faun immobile and beauteous

let me hang on every word of yours and
let it be the raft that sees me happily
unsafe home

take your bs line poem  
shove it down your silent voice

this is not avant garde; this is insulting

p.s.  write me a smile and all will be_____
Jonathan Polivka
How do you explain that beautiful refrain?

Moments passed by like a water spout insisting on yielding the smallest of drops.
She pressed her head against my chest and silence spoke.

Revoking the noise in her head, she sat insistent on incessant quiet.
Every part of her beamed with a need to speak; every part but her mouth that is.

How do you explain that beautiful refrain?

Dripping like the trickle of a silent stream,
Time crept by, demanding attention.
I swallowed before brushing her hair from her face.

Provoking the conversation, I questioned the still-ambient air waves she conducted.
Every part of me in discomfort by the unfamiliar silence that still sounded loud.

How do you explain that beautiful refrain?
Nothing makes my heart sink
Faster to the bottom of this chest called ocean
Than a clueless defiance
And disregard for the most basic
The most respectful quiet
Shut your mouth, it overfloweth.
forty-eight hours is a long time to wear a binder,
and my ribs are screaming for mercy,
for a break from the compression and lack of mobility.
but it's not that easy.

sometimes i'd rather face the pain,
than face the fact that i am female.
these weights on my chest,
drag me to the ground.
i break down.

i feel locked in my body,
and all i want to do is break free.
nobody should feel the need to shower in the dark,
because the reality of their body is too much for them.
it shouldn't be this way

and i know i shouldn't compare myself to people,
but i cannot stop thinking,
'what if i were cis'.
i think of how much easier everything would be.
i wouldn't have to worry over how long i've been wearing my binder,
or if i pass,

i wouldn't have to worry about turning eighteen,
knowing i will be homeless.
but instead, my mother would celebrate her baby,
becoming a "legal adult."

forty-eight hours wouldn't be a worrying statement,
just another frame of time,
it wouldn't reflect on my self-care routines,
or lack thereof

it'd just be forty-eight hours.
Nat Lipstadt
4/10/18 10:55pm ~ 4/22/18 2:02 am


a simpler than plain fact,  
deserving reflection beyond the obvious,
containing obverse emotional mine field sonar arrays
floating on an ocean unhidden,
listening for the ocean's bleeping hid-dens,
before surrendering to its suck-sinking power of time/gravity
the better life elsewhere is always someone’s misery

confetti is just tomorrow’s garbage

someone stood on lower Broadway at 5am
watching the sanitation men sweeping up the aftermath of a super bowl  victor’s celebration, with broom heads borrowed from giants’ moustaches

passage of a single thought,
that the victorious celebrated on the parade should
a posteriori be required to participate
in this flip-side experience as
‘active cleaner uppers,’
re-enacting the famous Persian Sufi adage,

“this is too shall pass”

someone whispers we have blessed lives,
rich in the experiential, free of the dragging boredom
of the daily draining of making it, head well above of the
humanizing periodic regularizing water dunkin’ reminder
of just

“we too shall pass”

so even the confetti honorees must have too someone whose
life to aspire, the top of the heap, in chained food chain world

assaying perfection and the luck thereof,
picture perfect lives cannot withstand tsunamis of
waves eroding their shapes, wearing boundaries down,
do not forget the invisible invitation from the riptide
just beneath the calm surgical surficial surfacing disguises

if you face my book, will find in a later chapter prior
the fine sorry lines, the pierced titanium bulletproof vest,
the divorces of mistakes remade, the haunted envisioning,
the obligatory items that keep you awake, those awesome
responsibilities that take many small bites of a soul’s coverlet
that cannot be removed isolated jailed or desperate destroyed

confetti rained interspersed with droplets of sand grains,
this man of constant tomorrows, hopeful Mondays, bad Fridays,
is a man of constant sorrows,
pictures and poems life celebrating a never allowed to forget
lucky runs out like the string from packages saved
when no more packages arrive

when the packages no longer get delivered
oh that started years ago, when came the bile instead
of the blood’s replacement clotting factors

passing is a sometime thing
sometime is a most imprecisely defined terminus
sometime means that today’s confetti is a day away
from soured garbage
and you are forever responsible for the cleanup

a picture worth a thousand words
but in me lives tens of thousands words

“this is too shall pass”
finally finished fin
Ugo Victor
I can't sleep
Everytime I remember your words
They snap and recoil
And hurt me awake
Next time when someone
Promises me forever
I'll just smile
Look them in the eyes and ask
How long is forever to you.
Fox Friend
And on the final day,
I watched the flames
lick up my words
for you.

I set them all ablaze;
none of them
made you
I'm kind of stuck
At least... I think I am
Somewhere between telling everyone I know to fuck off
And "just please come hold me friend"

Some place in between an uneasy heart and hectic mind

"I'm depressed"
Can't I just say it without having to explain why?
Sometimes I don't even know which reason to choose

Short replies

"You seem like you don't want to talk"

You're right, but I also want to reach out
I want out
I want to let go of everything
And capture it all in my arms

like a fire fly in the palm of restless hands,
Just let me hold on to your light
Atleast, just for tonight

Because I'm feeling stuck.
It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived
unspoken words,
years of silence

it is time
to spread my wings

to embrace;

i am transgender
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