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Jun 24 · 405
Dream, Dream, Dream
Alaina Moore Jun 24
I like to frolic in fields
Laced with landmines.

I like to take bubble baths
With curling irons, plugged in.  

I like to walk alleys
Naked at night.

I like to fast.

I like look in the mirror
And see someone else.

I like to think about these things
As if they were true.
Jun 21 · 35
The Child
Alaina Moore Jun 21
I am the settler
The assimilated puppet.

I am the beacon
To avoid, not follow.

I am the lost soul
Who can't articulate how the feelings manifest.

I am the child
Who can't express what they need.
Jun 11 · 29
Repetitious Epiphany
Alaina Moore Jun 11
And in an instant
The realization swept me
The weight of all these years

All the lies
Like an avalanche
That I've told myself

It's okay
It's fine
I'm okay

How buried am I
How forgetful
As if I haven't done this before  

It's harder this time
I am so lost
In myself
Alaina Moore May 27
My favorite meal (apparently)
Is eating crow
****** every day
Devoured like ice cream
On a hot day
I'm a hot mess
Words equate land mines
Going off without warning
Disguised as words
Play me a fool
I thought I was helpful
But alas
Set the gasoline on fire
Let it light the way
Use me as a bridge
And light me aflame
And they say
You should talk more
What do I get from that
Besides explosions
And feathers in my teeth
But with lips sewn shut
I won't be eating anything
So crow is better than nothing
Only because starvation
Takes 45 days
I lack the patience
Alaina Moore May 12
One of the most painful things
I have had to endure (so far)
Was watching you slip away.

There is so much to unpack.
So many threads that came together,
Becoming the quilt that is you now.

But patches were removed,

The reflection remains unchanged.
Nothing else follows.
Nothing else remains.

I see old pictures of us.
A you with different eyes.
If only I could pull you from those images.

I miss who you were.
They are forever gone.
Yet we both remain.
May 10 · 64
Alaina Moore May 10
I am ready to fly off the rails.
I am prepared for the fallout.
I am filled with rage.
I am awaiting the toxicity.
I am craving the release.
I am unable to let go.

So I'll stay here.
In the repetition of misery.

I am not.
Apr 26 · 25
WIP: 6
Alaina Moore Apr 26
Isn't it a bit hard
To find meaning
In what you're doing right now
When you know
That it isn't
Helping -- even remotely
Slow down the mass extinction
Your species created?

There are a million ways you can divy it up
Justify it, add perspective, be realistic about your impact.
Which ultimately IS minimal
But could be larger
If we all did... something?

Stop the world and find a common focus
Like the world always does
... In action movies
Usually because... Aliens
Which pose an immediate threat

A threat our brain can understand
Not this delayed doom
That feels so far away
... far away...
Until it's here

Is it too late?

Worst thing is that we **** 99% of all life on the planet.
Maybe this is just the 1% at it again
Taking it all for themselves.
Mar 19 · 77
Anxious Rituals
Alaina Moore Mar 19
My favorite time of the day lately
Is when everyone else in the house is sleeping.
This is my alone time.
Laying in my cocoon of warm blankets
I take in the silence
My mantra ensues

This is my time
And no one can take it from me.

I get lost in daydreams that fade into real dreams.
And as I hit snooze on my alarm the mantra continues

These next 10 minutes are mine and mine alone.
I am safe in my cocoon and I am safe in this room.
Hold on to this feeling of calm.
The day will pass at times constant speed.
No one can change that no matter how it feels.
This is my time
No one can take it from me.

Mar 18 · 524
Alaina Moore Mar 18
Slave to money
No time for fun
Make that money
At least 18 years
Self sacrificed
For the good of the family
Don't know myself
Can't feel anymore
Can't eat anymore
Like I'm in a zoo
Can't speak my truth
Can't escape my abuse
Alone in a crowded room
No energy to speak of
Gave away all I am
All that's left.
Mar 17 · 152
Alaina Moore Mar 17
All my self worth is carried on the backs of others.

What an idea to fathom

That I could carry it myself.

What a task I've burden others.

Would assume the weight if I knew how.
Mar 17 · 44
Spring Loaded
Alaina Moore Mar 17
There is a war in me that rages.
To speak up or not speak up
Is always the point of contention.

I do not know when to ask for help
Or even how for that matter
But I'm so tired of feeling alone.

I wish I knew how to pull
The coiled wire from my chest
To alleviate pressure, any pressure.

So I can breath again.
Jan 20 · 41
Up To You
Alaina Moore Jan 20
I'm shooting the high horse
So step off
Or go down
Your choice.
Dec 2020 · 177
That IS strange...
Alaina Moore Dec 2020
2020 the year weather was borderline irrelevant in my world.
Dec 2020 · 44
Alaina Moore Dec 2020
At times our conversations feel like they're in a tumble dryer.
Spinning into mindless repetition and progressively heating up.
Nov 2020 · 97
Alaina Moore Nov 2020
For all these years I've been gifted
I'm just curious
When do I start to enjoy them?
Nov 2020 · 222
Self Portrait
Alaina Moore Nov 2020
They are somewhat like a smudge of coal dust on a white wedding gown

He craves a feeling he has no right too
And so he spirals in the darkness
Into the womb of existence
Just wanting to prove himself
To declare "I'm worthy of life"
As he feels like he's not getting it
He is more a ghost than a man,
Even so, he lacks spirit

She just wants to be happy
Gnashing teeth; molded smile
She longs for something easier;
Some kind of relief she can't articulate nor formulate.
Imprisoned by illness of mind, of body Her facade shifts to reality as her reflection grows unfamiliar
She tries so hard to assimilate but the lies all blend together.

Their hearts poured through a strainer
She grasps the strings
He weaves them into ropes that hold them together.
Be it kindness or cruelty, the act carries the stench of survival

They are one, and
They are magnets facing
Opposite direction
Jaded jigsaw pieces forced together.
Then called a pretty picture.
Oct 2020 · 239
Calling Calm
Alaina Moore Oct 2020
At times, it sounds like crowds are cheering, when I'm sitting in a silent room.

With my lower jaw working on a merger with my upper. I take a deep breath and sigh.

Until I hear the silence.
Thoughts are noisy
Oct 2020 · 304
The Inconvenienced Patron
Alaina Moore Oct 2020
The inconvenienced patron always arrived late. 
They always had a glass to fill, and not a minute to wait. 
Their emotions were like landmines, and their problems all your own. 
The inconvenienced patron was always picking a bone. 
They tell you how they were mistreated, how others are so unkind. 
Then rant and rave about how how if they’d had just been patient with them everything would be fine. 
The inconvenienced patron never seemed to give a second glance 
To the glazed over patrons not holding their breath 
For an ounce of positivity nor some selfless grace. No. 
The inconvenienced patron made them blue in the face.
Sep 2020 · 196
Electronic Ghost
Alaina Moore Sep 2020
I stumbled upon your linkedin yesterday,
and saw you frozen in time.
Read through an articulate and proud bio, and wished that that was still you embodied.  
Before all the pieces crumbled apart.
I didn't realize that it would haunt me.
What a feeling it is, to know you're alive, while mourning as if you're gone.
I would give you all my hope if it had a chance of saving you.
Sep 2020 · 313
Stand Up
Alaina Moore Sep 2020
Spent countless days waiting and wishing for someone to come save me.

Until I stood up and realized the whole reason I am here is to save myself.
Aug 2020 · 368
Forever Recovering
Alaina Moore Aug 2020
Though every joy that could be enhanced, and every misery that could be diluted.
Thoughts of escape dance like ballerinas in my mind.
Fluid in motion and undeniably enticing

I swoon for them - hypnotized.

They are really sirens seducing me, and pulling me toward oblivion.

I'm a moth to the flame.

Seeking a comfort zone that was never comfortable to begin with.
To inflict a suffering I do not deserve, yet so desperately long for at times.
This WAS a better poem before the bad gateway error. Edits inbound when the spirit is right.
Aug 2020 · 280
Alaina Moore Aug 2020
Remember, remember the 5th of November, and remember the point of the plot.

That blind obedience and fear of others is what spoiled the ***.
This is referencing V for Vendetta which is a graphic novel/ movie that takes place in 2020. It tells a story of sickness that killed a lot of people and lead people into a fear driven frenzy that resulted in a fascist government that controlled free speech and art. Among other things.

Who knew it was a true story.
Alaina Moore Jul 2020
Addicted to darkness
like millennials and 90s nostalgia.
Undeniable comfort found in misery.
Leads me to drive the sulking deeper; enhanced pity.
Consumed by temptation,
vivid thoughts and shallow promises.

The predictability of my self destruction.

Euphoric memories of crimson scars,
that flirted with inevitability.
Slick and blurred is the line between thoughts and actions.
I'm walking a tightrope; history breathing down my neck.
I sadistically want to lose my footing,
and masochistically suffer the consequences.
Left to my own devices, if I could hold on to the secrets, my desires would be realities.
Jun 2020 · 254
Pride: A Journey
Alaina Moore Jun 2020
I grew up with God in the wind,
and didn't fit in with Christian friends.
They told me stories and begged me to repent.
Though doubtful, my anxiety sparked at the thought of sin.

I was once on a playdate and the mother told me.
She disowned her best friend when she confessed she was a lesbian.
She told me she could only take her back if she came to her senses.
It made me feel sad and sick, with little sympathy for the protagonist.

I was once told by a good friend that no one is bisexual, of course they're just confused.
I knew who I was but I didn't say anything in rebuttal.
I just nodded my head and took the bruise.

Once after jokingly seeing my boyfriend and another male friend hold hands, my mother told me "how dare those ******* disrespect you like that."
It was a moment that shattered glass and left scars.
I managed an apology after too much effort.

My stepfather once told me that gender fluidity was a confused phase, and a fad for attention.
Walls were put up and notes were taken.
Doors remained closed and silence  prevailed.

I am complicated.
I blend in to "normal"
I feel guilty at times and don't feel honest.

I undervalue, perhaps, the benefit of looping everyone in.
Or, perhaps, I'm just keeping the peace and heeding warning signals.

I can say for certain, it's not a fad nor phase.
I've always been who I am, I just had to grow up in order to phrase it.
A confession camouflaged as a poem.
Each verse is later in life. Starting from 12 ending around 26.
Jun 2020 · 302
Artificial Womb
Alaina Moore Jun 2020
The relief of sheet and blanket, nestled between hands and heart.

Floods my being with irrational safety and solace.

I never want to leave.
Jun 2020 · 562
Alaina Moore Jun 2020
The amount of messages
I compose and then delete
would almost make you wonder
if I was just talking to myself.
Jun 2020 · 522
Abolish The Bully Within
Alaina Moore Jun 2020
I will not carry
any unnecessary weight,
because the world is heavy enough.

I will not compare myself to others,
and feel guilty about my shortcomings
because each experience is unique.

I will not let failure consume me
with guilt, but I will carry the anxiety
because I do want to be better.

I will no longer torture myself
because I feel I'm supposed too.

I will allow myself to experience forgiveness from myself.
May 2020 · 770
Grid Lock
Alaina Moore May 2020
Don't feel like a cog.

Don't feel like a bird either.
May 2020 · 655
Alaina Moore May 2020
Thinking... "I should say I'm sorry"
Then saying nothing.
Because I'm not sorry.

Girl power.
May 2020 · 322
Today is still today.
Alaina Moore May 2020
What if I allow myself,
to be myself,
while still being happy?

What if I stop
being the bully,
and become cheerleader full time?

What happens when I just trust myself
as a default?

Well then I guess,
I'd be free.
Roadblocks? Move em.

Also title is a quote from Taking Back Control by Sparta.
May 2020 · 734
Gut Check
Alaina Moore May 2020
Aim to be the person
you dreamed you'd be as a child
in spite of the world crushing your dreams.
Apr 2020 · 188
Alaina Moore Apr 2020
It's not that music defines me,
It just helps me explain to myself how I feel.
Then I can understand and do something about it.
Feb 2020 · 138
Alaina Moore Feb 2020
I love you,
despite the many failures
The true and perceived.
I want to hear about it all
be here through it all.
I wish you'd respond.
I hope you know you're worth more than you're giving yourself.
This doesn't have to be the final chapter.
Jan 2020 · 277
To Put This Gracefully
Alaina Moore Jan 2020
I could never own a gun,
I'm too much of a risk for that.
When trying to explain why I can't own a gun to a friend without turning the conversation drastically darker while remaining honest.

Though disclaimer, I am okay. But if you are not, please seek help. You will be okay. I'm a survivor without regret of living.

Suicide hotline: 1 800-273-8255
Jan 2020 · 157
Alaina Moore Jan 2020
Seeking to thrive
despite status quo forces
pulling me to center.
I keep aiming for stars.
Self improvement. Self love. 2020
Jan 2020 · 530
Damaged Goods
Alaina Moore Jan 2020
I keep pen to paper
As if these words will heal me

I keep lips together
As if no words will save me.
Dec 2019 · 371
Nothing Unusual
Alaina Moore Dec 2019
I hear a sound.
Near my bedroom window,
beyond the panes of glass.
A rumbling and humming;
an idle motorcycle, right on schedule.
Mixed in with the little fan,
it grows into the perfect white noise.
I drift away and think of a warmer place,
bright and expansive.
In my mind, I hear bagpipes playing.
It is some fierce melody,
unfamiliar, yet deeply known.
The meditation fades back to other surroundings.
Back to the dark blank room,
buzzing fan, and noise pollution.
Then I'm reminded, I don't care at all for bagpipes.
Blame my Irish DNA
Nov 2019 · 222
Try Me
Alaina Moore Nov 2019
If you're working against a better future for all of us, I will, without hesitation, walk all over you to make the best out of a world on fire.
Okay, boomer...
Oct 2019 · 482
Alaina Moore Oct 2019
It's a word that keeps coming up.
Get it?! Keeps coming up?
It's something that makes us think of substances and addiction.
A narrow view of a massive crisis.
As it festers and grows, you ignore it.
It spins webs that sew into you until more fiber is relapse than progress.
Eventually leading you to the same place it always does.
A self fabricated wall with no ropes, ladders or shovels to aid in moving past the barrier.
Spanning to a wider view you'll find that relapse is a state of mind.
Toward the diet, the feeling, the mood, the bad habit, the obsession, the perspective or the substance.
Though it is a repeated journey attempting to best tbe barrier via the same path is a path to nowhere.
Be creative, be different, be confident, find the energy and want to change.
That is the path away from misery and repetition.
I'm currently battling falling back into a deep depression that is absolutely besting me.
Oct 2019 · 1.3k
Slow Healing
Alaina Moore Oct 2019
Screaming internally; sitting in silence.
Make these feelings wash away without a word spoken.

Articulating perceptions while throwing water on burning oil.
Flames and rainbows blend until the fuel is exhuasted.

I am exhausted.
Sep 2019 · 220
City Streets
Alaina Moore Sep 2019
Rapidly approaching dusk, the sunbeams are bouncing across car roofs, creating a river of deep red.
Below there's broken glass strewn across the always shining like star light bending in the atmosphere.
I wonder what the glass thinks of being shattered by drunk nomad who felt the desire to release the bottle at high velocity?
Does it care that it's avoided by all the passers by?
Does it feel free having escaped the vessel and sprawl across the concrete?
Perhaps I need to be shattered to break free?
Trapped in mental paradox I struggle to find resolution.
Wading in ambiguity without direction, exhaustion settles into routine.
Waiting to see the fruits of my investment in self.
Work in progress... Not sure where I'm going with this
Aug 2019 · 880
Voice of Self Loathing
Alaina Moore Aug 2019
Eloquent lair,
esteemed and influential.
Spreading disasters
that make me mental.

Not about this repetition.
Locking me in a finite position.

With a moderate delay,
reinforcements arrive.
Reminding me that it is alright to thrive.

Maturing at a healthly pace.
Hoping to survive it all with grace.
I actually tried to rhyme for once...
Jul 2019 · 991
Alaina Moore Jul 2019
A stark realization.
I'm, for lack of a better word, obsessed with South Park.
Not like collectables, clothing, or other cluttered stuff.
But like ingrained into my personality, seriously, like a face hugger planting seeds in my core. Hatching into satirical, political, ridiculous obsession
Half my inside jokes.
The majority of my random noises.
Sewn within my vocabulary.
Constantly murmuring on the TV like old friends at dinner.
In my achievement list on Steam.
On my blu-ray shelf.
Gently nudging me with phone notifications to collect my free pack.
Definitely used in comparisons at work.

Equally tearing down the walls of anyone and everyone.
I eat it up.
Jun 2019 · 364
Perfectionist Devil
Alaina Moore Jun 2019
Personal Devil spouting whispers directly into my consciousness.
Streamlined for exaggerated effect.
The internal constant critic of every action and thought.
Highlighting what could have been better in a way so far from constructive I'd need to update my passport to have a chance to see positivity.
Never harping on what was good, what was done exceptionally well.
Only dissatisfied with how it wasn't perfect.
The stark reminder that my toxic self is standing right behind me.
May 2019 · 218
Alaina Moore May 2019
Never feel like there is not
consistency in your life.
There will always be people
that disappoint you.
Rolling over you like
a gravel road.
They will be that wheel crushing you
into the stones.
"I don't need friends, they disappoint me"#RipVine
May 2019 · 135
Broken Eggshells
Alaina Moore May 2019
You know that feeling,
of not wanting to go home?
Because you know there is some trigger there, just waiting behind the door.
Or somewhere in the hall closet,
or kitchen cupboard.
When the wrong tone rolls off the tongue and you end up eating crow for dinner, in total silence.
The hollowness grows like a **** in your chest.
Ceaselessly creating shelters just to watch them burn.
Eggshells crack like atom bombs,
and this emptiness grows heavy with each passing step.
When your biggest wish is to come home to smiling faces.
"If hello, could only drop it's 'o'" - Coheed and Cambria
May 2019 · 303
Almost Happy
Alaina Moore May 2019
Ever acclimating to reality.
Subtle differences between then and now.
Hopelessness fades into almost happy.
Depressed all the same but getting better.
Minor inconveniences explode into melodrama.
Relearning coping mechanisms like burning down sulphur.
Olympian effort for maintaining expectations.
Progress yet still nervous.
Like standing on a sandstone cliff on the edge of the Grand Canyon.
No difficulty fathoming how far I could fall.
Challenge is trusting that I won't blindly jump into the river.
Apr 2019 · 1.7k
Alaina Moore Apr 2019
Big city.
Crowded train.
Observe the vast graveyard,
on the commute.
All those who came before.
Some days it induces fear.
The great unknown.
The hard stop.
Some days it spurrs a sigh.
A releiving exhale.
All things end.
Reminder of the moment.
A promise to end all suffering.
Assuming I'm patient enough,
to let it consume me naturally.
Reminder not to rush to the finale.
It is inevitable, after all.
Mar 2019 · 640
No Worries
Alaina Moore Mar 2019
Faint whispers in the day and dark.
Smiles fade into clever camouflage as the truth builds walls miles high.
Mirror tells lies, and truths I can't stand to observe.
Body rejects sustinace; swipe left, try again tomorrow.
Mind glossed in walls that reverberate, ever growing louder.
Skin crawls like a million earthworms worms dreaming of becoming butterflies.
Decaying in plain site, hidden behind a thousand "okays" and "alrights."
Verbatim honesty escapes my tounge.
Soul ever inching toward the light.
Mar 2019 · 704
Opposite of Deposit
Alaina Moore Mar 2019
Full freefall into bed.
Notice every lumpy detail;
every crumb not swept away.
Head pounds like a drumline.
Aches woven in every muscle fiber.
Hot and cold flashes rotating through time.
Dry sweat soaks my skin.
Seconds masquerading as hours.
Thoughts scratching the chords, choking to death.
Unique and unmistakablely familiar. I know this feeling so well.
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