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You woke like windows,
shattered in Jewish hellfire,
shade by burning books.
Day 21 of NaPoWriMo.
All morning I lie in my bed

Aware of my  dread for the day ahead

Maybe if I close my eyes and fall asleep

will the day be lead away unsaid
A
single flower
on a young peach tree
glowing neon pink
in the morning sun
a single promise
of
what we all can be.
I spent my life
trying to please my family

It didn't work

I spent my life trying to
Please others


I spent my life......
Be yourself
Ever seen the darkness shake ?
like the serpentine spine of a blood red snake
vibrations sent to the core of your soul,
burning your mind like simmering coal,
clamber for the light in your claustrophobic space
the demons in the shadows know your face
the tears wont fall just stay in your eyes
whilst all around you everything dies
dance the macabre its the only way
whirling dervish no time to pray
the ancient rhythms too much to resist
it eats you away like a cancerous cyst.
An exploration into the dark world of depression,  something the writer is all too familiar with.
I wonder if he misses me
I know it sounds insane because she exists
But I wonder if at night he is somehow reminded of us
The way we lingered over one another
The sweet torture for both of us
The way we wrapped up like tying a knot at boy scouts
I wonder if he has rid the remnants of our love
Or if they are held holy to his left side
 Apr 2015 OblertPumpernikle
Myra
Everyday
I see her
hollow eyes and
sunken cheeks
slowly makes her way outside her shack
by the end of the day
she would return home
with darker shades of bruises covering her pale skin

Everyday
I see the thin threads
behind her back
growing apparent
woven together
she goes unseen
and her wings too
a faerie in disguise
waiting for her time to come home

Everyday
when her bruises turn darker
when her body becomes bones
when all of her bones are broken
when her breaths are ragged
when her soul is battered
the delicate threads will only grow stronger
stronger until it lifts her to the sky
to the other side of Ëa

One day
I don't see her
and never will
because she
has returned home
to the sky
she truly belongs
well, since this is my first poem, feel free to criticize and give some inputs!^^
broken little dream
you sit at the edge of a bath or a sink
you think the world it deadly that you find it to hard to breath
yes death is easy
and life is the hard part
But your skin should never be torn apart
yes death douse sadden us
We cant have love without pain
But you wont hear the words that i say
i cant make you stop it
i cant make you stay
but that razor that you hold
is a permanent solution
to a problem that will go away
So to put these words gently
Broken little dream,
You must chose to live
because a life without you is not worth living
te
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