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 Mar 2018 AllyRose
She Writes
**** doesn’t always hide
At parties and outside clubs
**** doesn’t always hide
In dark alleys and empty parking lots
Sometimes it is right in front of you
But you choose to look the other way
**** doesn’t always hide
Behind the faces of strangers in the night
Sometimes it is hiding behind the closed doors
Of your uncles
Cousins
Fathers
And brothers
**** isn’t always loud-
Screaming, yelling, and crying
Sometimes **** is quiet-
Gasping for air and silent tears
 Mar 2018 AllyRose
Joshua Michael
Its the feeling you get when your mind is a war zone, a warped home where grimmy thoughts roam, with no guidance or support zone, your so frightened to fight it on your own. More poems of suicide and self harm, you ever dreamt you died and felt calm? Just a truant mind with health crimes, help cant cure a ruined life in Hell's palms. You fell in to a ditch and because of it popping bottles of pills that you mixing your ***** with, then nodding off a bit picturing god and all of it, a doctors on the phone telling you to ***** it. Consistently monitored, the alcohol, the quiting , the six, seven seizures, its the moment a schizophrenic freezes, hearing a voice that whispers when it pleases, the vigilant bulimic, the obsessive and compulsive,the bipolar mood swing and stomach ulcers. Its the hidden issues that the medicine alters. Its the judgmental that the depression repulses ,the anxiety, the psychs with the notes, the post traumatic stress and the vices to cope. The prices of dope,the ice in the pipe that you smoke. The knife the rope, the temptation of slicing your throat. Its the stigma determined to scare you, when the bourbon your served is your urgent repairer. When not feeling nervous becomes rarer and your mom quits  her job to become your permanent carer. Its the psychotic episodes, the days that you lost seeking help, but being crazy isn't something I am ashamed to admit, so stay strong anybody who relates to this, please.
 Mar 2018 AllyRose
Chioma
Dear Self
 Mar 2018 AllyRose
Chioma
Dear self
Forgive Me
For the times I hurt you with my words
That pierced through you like swords
Reducing your worth
Saying things that you are not

For the times I've made you cry
When all you did was try
The tears you cried formed a sea
Now I'm drowning as you can see

For the times I pushed you farther
While trying to be like another
Now I'm taking the walk of shame
Calling out your name
Asking That you forgive me
Forgiveness
 Jun 2017 AllyRose
Star BG
Children of today,
will never know what it is like to use a pay phone,
as one tries to find a quarter.

Kids today,
shall never know what it is like to embrace the mystery
of who is at the other end of a call.

Children of today,
will never know what it is like to get ones anger out
with a slam of the phone instead of pushing a button.

Kids today,
will never know what its like to not text
and have to call someone when they get home.

Children of today,
will never know what it is like to drive with paper directions
as one juggles to read their own writing.

Kids of today,
will never yes never know what it is like to savor a real hug or kiss
from a friend instead of a emoji.

Children of today,
will never know what it’s like to look eye to eye
and talk to family members at restaurant
instead of looking at phone to keep busy.

Sadly,  thats progress, until we wake up and smell the coffee.


StarBG © 2017
Until we go back down the ladder of technology
will we feel true peace.
 Jun 2017 AllyRose
Dawn Treader
Socrates consumed Hemlock,
Cleopatra embraced the Asp,
Alan Turing ate an apple laced with cyanide,
I, like those before me,
Have picked my poison;
An absinthe-eyed, quicksilver-tongued boy.
He was unsettled when I answered with the truth of his query,
Yes, he is poison,
I knowingly and willingly consume every drop of him,
Not all toxicity is solely adverse,
Radiation treats cancer,
Venom in low doses is an antidote,
Ethanol relaxes muscle and numbs the emotions.
He is my poison and my antidote,
He is the corrosive acid that dissolves gear-stopping rust,
I, in kind, am the poison apple of his eye,
Or so he says,
And so, we two, bask in the destruction of ourselves,
Consuming each other's pain, insecurity, madness, and lust,
Why is it that he, a poison, is the one I trust?
Two toxic individuals clinging to each other. Perhaps there's nothing better he can find.
~~~=<♡>=~~~

when it dawns
and the sky is passing fair
in the peace in a time of silent prayer
in the breath of a
newborn child's sleep
there are mem'rys
we will always keep

when a mother first holds her child
in the strength of a mustang
running wild
in the hush of an ocean's
silent depths
there are feelings in us
that we'll ne'r forget

eagles fly
and soar on lofty wings
infants cry when their
time of life begins
seedlings grow
from the fall of gentle rains
these are things we know
but can we fully explain?

in the rise of a harvest moon
in the scent of a rose
in fullest bloom
in the grace of a
dancer's swirling form
then our senses make us
glad we're born

in the flames of the setting sun
in softness of night that's
just begun
in the lights of the pinpricked sky
there are times we pause
to think and ponder why?

breezes blow
and yet are never seen
there's a mind
that can only think a dream
can you touch the light
of falling stars
these are things we know
but can we prove they are?

in the roar of a breaking wave
we are kept from the
cradle to the grave
we may know
in our last and final hour
a loving and

ALMIGHTY POWER


soulsurvivor
4/21/2009


~~~=<♡>=~~~
a song

~~~=<♡>=~~~
 Jun 2017 AllyRose
Bisaal
I touch your hair
then touch the grass,
your hair is so much softer.

I touch your cheek
then touch mine,
it feels the same, so why does yours
make my fingers tingle?

I touch your lips with my fingers, it feels good
but then I touch your lips with my lips
and it feels amazing.

I touch your hair, cheek, lips, chest, back,
I touch all of you
and I love it,
I love all of you.
I don't know where this came from since I'm still sad from a breakup and this isn't really a sad poem...
I slipped up.
I slit cuts.
I didn't mean to.
I drew blood.

I read online
When I was probably just 14 or 15 years old
That most people don't stop until their 20's
And it scared me
But I thought
"No, I'll stop right now"

But I didn't.
I couldn't.

I slipped up.
I slit cuts.
I didn't mean to.
I drew blood.

And now that I'm older
It hurts more to try to hide it
And now that I have people that care about me
Often times they don't understand why this part of my life is still relevant
And all I can say to make them understand is

I slipped up.
I slit cuts.
I just had to.
I drew blood.
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