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 Feb 2015 Lb
Alice Morris
The warmth rises
I'm engulfed in flames
there is no pain
just the feeling of peace
an inner peace
at last I'm whole
I'm free, I've been released
to start living again
 Feb 2015 Lb
Dhaye Margaux
If walls could talk, these words you'll hear
'I love you so much, forever, my dear
We shall not cease, we shall not fear
We shall not give each heart a tear'

Oh, if walls could talk, we won't be hurt
If only we're not this oceans apart
An entry to a challenge to make a poem with the phrase "If Walls Could Talk".
 Feb 2015 Lb
BertJane Perez
A life without love
Is like an ocean without fish
A garden without flowers
A sound without noise

A life without love
Is a morning without coffee
A smile without joy
A word without letters

A life without love
Is a life without you
And the life I am living
 Oct 2014 Lb
aphrodite
I know that I am truly happy when I stop in the midst of it all and think:
**"It's going to hurt like hell when this is over."
Just a late night thought.
Hope you're all doing well.
Thanks for reading, and take the time to comment if you will.
**
 Oct 2014 Lb
brooke
Expiration date.
 Oct 2014 Lb
brooke
I've always been
afraid to say I'm
not in love as if
without it I am less
as if I am missing
something crucial
and I have often
been weary of
saying it aloud
in hopes that
you might
come back
but we aren't
ever going to
be together,
are we, Chris?
that is why



I don't love you anymore.
(c) Brooke Otto 2014
 Sep 2014 Lb
brooke
helena.
 Sep 2014 Lb
brooke
when Helen tried to
commit suicide I didn't
know until she told me
at the Oklahoma! premier
when I said I hadn't seen
her in so long and she
casually stuffed her
hands in her pockets
and said Well, yeah,
I tried to **** myself
and was in a place

so I took her face
between my palms
and kissed her forehead
which was out of character
for me, back then, but I wanted
to pull the black out of her brain
with my lips.
(c) Brooke Otto 2014


I miss her and we weren't even great friends.
 Sep 2014 Lb
Kacie
I found sitting myself in a really dark place--like a dimly lit room. An overhead light flickered on and off, and in the short seconds of light, I caught a glimpse of myself, my reflection. I didn't like what I saw, what was staring back at me. A face pale like a white crayon, like I had never had the rays of the sun dance upon the edges of my skin, eyes so worn, so tired, so...defeated. I crawled my way to the nearest wall. My fingers grazed the freezing cold tile as I climbed my way to a standing position. I stood leaning against the cold, mostly to stabilize myself, but also because the tile felt so smooth against my arms.

How did I get here in this room? I can't seem to remember, it all hit me so fast. The light flickered on and off and I stood leaning against the smooth tile and thinking about where I was. This room was so small and dark. I let my fingers drag along the tile as I slowly walked around the room. At last the smooth, cold wall turned to even more cold metal as I found myself holding into a handle. Suddenly the light flickered once more and through the door I went, and then I was falling and falling.  After that, everything went black.

When I awoke, I once again found myself in the fetal position on the ground. This time I was warm. I felt something tickle my foot and it jolted me awake. I open my eyes to discover that I am lying in a field filled with pink and white flowers that I could never identify. They were lovely and they seemed to embrace the cool breeze moving through their petals. I stand here amidst all this beauty and I feel okay for the first time. I am calm. I am happy.

Suddenly, though, the sky seemed to flicker just like that temperamental light in that cold tile room. I think to myself that it's just my mind, it's just my mind playing tricks on me. But then a loud, thunderous noise bellows throughout the field, sending a ****** of large, black crows into my direction. The beautiful, blue sky instantly filled itself with clouds like dark, black smoke in a small confined space. A strong wind forces it's way against the flowers and as each flower is touched, it wilts, turning the most awful shade of gray I had ever seen. The entire field went dead and I stand in the center trying to take in what happened. Everything was fine just a minute ago. The sky flickers and again my vision turns black and I wake up and I am back in that cold, the room, laying on my side. The door is there, within my view, and I lay there, staring.
This poem is how I viewed my depression for a long time. I felt as though I started in a strange, confusing place, and when I stepped into happiness, it was only brief, ruined by that dark sadness that I carried with me.
 Sep 2014 Lb
JC Lucas
Robin's Nest
 Sep 2014 Lb
JC Lucas
When I was young,
and knew nothing of death,
I remember looking from my bedroom window
into the branches of the cherry tree on the opposite side
and seeing a nest full of blue eggs,
still ripening.

I watched it all summer,
each day checking to see if the
new birds had come fully into
life.
One day, playing in the back yard,
I found their discarded shells lying on the ground,
now useless.
I remember the feeling of numinous awe
as I inspected them, knowing the little birds
were elsewhere now.
It was so simple, so effortless,
but so penetrating.

And now I have seen death
by car accidents, on nameless roads
by cancer, in hospital beds
by violence, in supermarket parking lots.
quick death and slow death
painful and painless
with grace
and without.
And now I feel fearful.
Not for myself,
but a simple, effortless
penetrating feeling.

Such is the cycle of life,
whether I am present
to watch its digression,

or not.
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