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 Jan 2016 Tyler Nicholas
kiera
there's something sad about the sky
watching it fall down in colors
and paint itself to sleep
I sit and wait
for something I haven't figured out yet
listening to music that matches the hue
of the now darkened sky

I think that my disease is being okay
and living for momentary gratification
this week
nothing felt complete
you, me and everything that happened
standing in places because I should
looking at chilled and chiseled landscapes
that should transfix
but my eyes felt too hollow
not even being drunk felt like enough
I expect too much
and I feel so small
I wrote this last night
 Jan 2016 Tyler Nicholas
kiera
when i close my eyes
i go to places i've been to
maybe not
i decorate memories
in short breaths
i see neighborhoods
i see miles of desert
driving through dilated sunsets
i see the light hanging
kissing me through the window
warm sun caresses my body
while i'm laying in silken sheets
and then familiar sounds of summer
the intense feeling of being home
when i was young and nothing mattered
my thoughts and talks from those days are gone
but i'm left with the sensation
everything could've been a dream
im drifting now
i'm a child at the airport
the excitement of whats to come
fills my lungs
i need that now
i need to be young
i am young
let me fly
I'll be like
Every other poet
And compare you
To the stars

Because you shine
So bright and
Very beautifully
Just like them

But you and
I both know
Behind that glow
You're dying inside
Written and shared on Hello Poetry on January 21, 2016
Copywrite and all rights reserved under Bianca Reyes
 Jan 2016 Tyler Nicholas
Ysabel
I want to shout until my ears hurt.
I want to curse until I ran out of words.
I want to run until I can't stand on my feet.
I want to stab myself until I can no longer breathe.

I want to be back to my own self,
I want to be free.
But everytime I try.
I can feel your hands' tight grip.

I've been depressed for three years now.
I've been suffering for sleepless nights.
I've been seeking for help a lot of times,
But no one dared to notice my cry.

They knew me as a strong girl,
The one who always smile.
But this time I know I'm afraid.
Afraid of what I can do to myself.
I really need help. I can't even understand myself. I think I'll turn crazy any moment from now.
 Oct 2015 Tyler Nicholas
AJ
I have this dream that I'm a failed 1940's housewife.
And I can't get this image out of my mind.

I swear I left the iron on,
The sink is overflowing,
The roast it burning,
The twins are crying,
The washing machine is pouring out suds.
And my husband gets home....
It's a mess.

He tries to put me in my place,
Apparently I must be submissive.
He tries to **** me in the kitchen
To prove his possession of me.
I yell and scream and
When he doesn't stop....
The knives were just.....
Too close to my end of the counter.

My lawyer pleads insanity.
I just plead.
"The invention of the ship was the invention of the shipwreck."
A collaboration between Elisa Maria Argiro and SG Holter.*

Dear feather. You fell on my heart.
I keep you on my person now; pocket held;
An eternal companion.
As beautiful as you, I remind my
Thoughts to be.
I wake up as Buddha every day.                  
Peace is the corner stone of my breathing.

Dear Last Crescent Moon,
adorning Lord Shiva's brow,
smiling toward Morning Star
enjoying her sweet presence
in clearest predawn light.
She smiles too, drifting into feathery sleep.

Birdless flight, unclenched, un-
Clung to.
With this dew drop in my palm
I need no ocean to swim in.
How can Life's castle, with its wars and
Tragedies, hide within its
Towers of                                                          
Nois­e such quiet chambers?
Paper sails, bamboo, emerald waters.
Single feathers rest even when
Airborne.

From your outstretched palm,
sweet taste of morning touches
my tongue, oceanic dew drop
sharing itself across floating time.
An offering holding the last shining
starlight of this new morning. Drifting
now through limitless space,
finding words in our common language
on your yellow paper sails, we gaze down
from these towers of our ancient dreams,
emerald water below us waiting to catch
the falling feather.

Dear insight.
Light as the wind itself, you
Floated; fell on my heart.
Merged with heavy memories
Like paper balloons rising;
Tsunami of kamifusen
Render my whole being
Weightless.
Third-Eye-Hindsight sees me
Remembering nothing with
Bitterness.
One or a hundred lifetimes
Wandering.
Finally now,
Even waking hours feel like
Dreaming.

Dear Wisdom, Guardian Planet,
Buddha's radiance shining.
Thousand-Petaled Lotus
is now your own effulgent mind.
Smiling, eyes closed, feeling the
glowing kamifusen of magenta,
scarlet, turquoise, and yellow
floating above us,
we swim so deeply, diving down
into these warm emerald waters,
winking at the luminous fishes
dreaming all around us.
Copyrighted by ©SG Holter and ©Elisa Maria Argiro 
(as a collaborative poem)
in the center
of my garden of thought
is an
     inky black pool
an obsidian mirror that ripples
     and grows
with each
          and every
hurt, pain, and torment I endure
circling the pool
     my verdant hopes
     my violaceous loves
     my carmine furies -
their blooms crawl, intertwine, creep
  in a mass of emotion and impulse
      pushing ever against the center
where my garden meets that
     ebony pond;
a barren desolate blight
  of decay and hopelessness
the vivid chromaticity of my
   emotion
in perpetual campaign against
          the void
        that forever
    threatens to
               consume
                    me
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