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Only you can translate
where you are
on your voyage through
this varied farce
called “life”.

No one else can dictate
to you…
or should even dare…
how to phrase
your feelings,
your thoughts,
your personal moments.

Who is anyone to
cause another to feel
inept or inferior
for wording their
experiences as they will?

We are all both
audience and poet,
consumed by the
powerful spell of words
and meaning
we are bonded
in ink.

It takes gumption
and courage
to give voice to
your vision of
the world.

It often requires
resilience and nerve
to open your heart
and peel back the
layers of skin,
and let others take
a long look at the
inner workings of YOU.

Be brave,
take courage,
let your soul speak
in its very own
language.

People will read
your words and
listen to the sweet
whispers
and thunderous shouts
that flow from pens
and keys
to release the
inner demons and angels
and the lyrical
vines that bloom and live
in our individual
landscapes,

fluidly coursing from
our own rabbit holes
with fortitude and grace
and our neverlands,
where we need never
grow up,

to share with those
that need to see
and hear and feel
and wonder.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
 May 2015 Abby Nichole
Anna
I refuse to let
anyone
treat me like garbage
anymore.
I don't deserve to be constantly belittled
by someone that claims to be my best friend.
I've spent too long getting sick
trying to appease your rollercoaster emotions.

Make me the bad guy all you want.
The only difference between
being on your bad side
and
being on your good side
is whether or not you smile
after insulting me.

Make me the bad guy all you want.
But no one only attracts bad people.
when your friends keep leaving,
the only common denominator is you.
10 minute, purposely cliche poems are the worst poems
 May 2015 Abby Nichole
Anna
Maybe I miss you.
I'd never admit that, though.
Maybe my underwear
is still carefully sorted
into what you took off of me
and what you haven't seen me in.
Maybe some days
I can't wear things you've touched.
Maybe you still slither into my thoughts
while I'm writhing under the covers.
Maybe I still think about
every
*******
day.
Maybe I spent an entire trimester of poetry class
writing about you.
Maybe not all of my poem were about the bad,
it wasn't all bad.
Maybe I never stopped loving you.
I love myself enough
to keep you out of my life, though.
"Said I'll never miss you, but I guess you'll never know."
Get over here
Your wish is my command

Take it off
Your wish is my command

Bare it all
Your wish is my command

Turn around
Your wish is my command

Bend over
Your wish is my command

Squeeze tighter
Your wish is my command

Kiss me
Your wish is my command

Lie down next to me
Your wish is my command

Shut your pretty mouth
Your wish is my command

Stop being so ******* emotional
Your wish is my command

No more crying
Your wish is my command

Don’t call me
Your wish is my command

Leave me alone
**Your wish is my command

— The End —