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 Jun 2016 Ysa Pa
NvrMnd
I am a Poem
 Jun 2016 Ysa Pa
NvrMnd
I am not a woman
No, not a man either
No flesh so keep shush
Crossing borderlines
Of love and hate

Through letters
Perfectly distorted
By motion of emotions
Spilling ink through papers
I am born free to wander

My body is a story
Of pain and pleasure
Slipping through time
Yet keep sailing away
From oblivion*

-I am a poem.
Lately I have this strange feeling of not being a human anymore.
I feel like my biological composition is fleeing and what's left are pure emotions.
And it's actually good, I can be anywhere, be anyone, genderless but still has an identity..
-Equality and Freedom-
drip. drop. drip. drop.
hear the pain?
dancing under the purple rain
*

©IGMS
'cause the rain is the bravest of all
for it is not afraid to fall
and you're all deaf
'cause you don't hear
the hurt of
-
and you're all blind
'cause you don't see
the color of
-
the falling purple rain
 Jun 2016 Ysa Pa
Feathers Scott
sometimes when i'm asleep i hear whispers.

ghosts of all the men i let decimate my sanctuary

thinking they came to worship.

the men who came with flowers,

fragrances and exquisite offerings

who left with my sobriety.

many pieces of me are

somewhere in the world

being given as bounty to other women

expecting to be loved as i did.
 Jun 2016 Ysa Pa
ryn
On the Mend
 Jun 2016 Ysa Pa
ryn
.

How do we mend wavering pedestals...
When the ground beneath is parched dry.
Stemming off loose foundations that time had weathered wry.

How do we mend broken gazes...
When watchful eyes which were meant to see,
are blinded by the onslaught of half-truths and fallacy.

How do we mend burnt bridges...
When we never look back to trace heavy missteps.
We fail to admit to consciously springing obvious traps.

How do I mend ailing hearts...
When familiar corridors seem warped to a bend.
When my own is struggling and perpetually on the mend.
I am an artist
And no words of mine
Are used in vain
While you throw your "I love you's"
Like ***** in a game
I hide mine in everything I write
And wait for you to
Read between the lines
And find them
 May 2016 Ysa Pa
ryn
.

"Quieten down...
Release your anchor, and sink into bed."


"I can't...
The whims of the world are much to heavy...
For me not to bother."


"The weight of the world isn't yours to bear...
It'll sort itself out,
if only you'd give it time to spare..."


"But that's just it, isn't it?
If only there's enough time for all of it to fit.
The ******* truth is...
there's never enough.
There can never be for those built with edges so rough."


"Why are you so sure
about something that has yet to happen?
When future's sand has yet to be spilled,
and its ink has yet to be written."


"Because that's just me.
I am a being fraught with worry.
You know that.
It's the only way I can be ready.
It's the only way I can be steady."


"Then allow me to keep you company.
For I am you, as much as you are me.
Till such time you eventually feel,
that you're ready to retire and heal."


"Thank you...
Your words comfort me much.
I welcome you,
to see me through this chaos in my head.
I've severed the anchor...
Let us sail to tranquillity,
leave the turbidity in our wake.
And replace it with
peaceful dreams in its stead."




ryn
ryn

.
You know you've lost your marbles when you write pieces such as this.
.
 May 2016 Ysa Pa
Eliot York
Untitled
 May 2016 Ysa Pa
Eliot York
The meaning of leaves in
a refreshing cool wind
He chose to live
for friendship
Not for that
other thing
Refreshing cool wind on a cross and died. He chose to live for friendship, live for survival, not for that thing any more. This is the meaning of it clung to her old leaves new myriads? Of lingering leaves
[coco, 11 nov 2011]
 May 2016 Ysa Pa
raine cooper
maybe
 May 2016 Ysa Pa
raine cooper
maybe love is to watch a thousand winters pass, and still stand by his side because you know he's made of spring
©rainecooper
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