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the world is filled with beautiful things
others die just to allow their kids to dream
A boy is allowed to walk because someone dared to think
But a beautiful world is not in my dream's
Silence is deadly as far as I'm concerned
My minds filled with beautiful words
I write the truth nothing more
Cover up the deadly the sick and the depressed
All so you don't have a heavy heart inside your chest
you've devoted your time to playing video games
im sorry that I act this way
but my words do speak the truth
the world is beautiful
but I owe my beautiful world to you
kind as you are I don't know much
your catholic your not its not a big deal but
I know you like fallout boy
and your American flag pants
you wore your sisters shirt
and you wore a 1920's hat
your suspenders are red and you like to excel
You don't like drama and your kind of introverted
your eyes are brown
and you have no idea how bad im hurting
but ill put it aside all just to Keep you happy
because without you I don't know if I could keep lasting
You are my beautiful world. I don't know how much you know about me and I don't think you would want to. just know I left you alone because I knew you hated drama even though you love to be in plays  because I would rather be invisible to you than for you to not be happy I wouldn't be hear without you Chimney sweep......you...are something ells
screaming, crying
i feel like i'm drowning but there is no water; no tears
shivering, quaking
my brain's busted and burnt,
my body, mind, and tongue are sore and fatigued
i'm hurling up stomach acid when i spit up your name
scared, petrified
i'm curling up in a ball...it's not called the fetal position because i'm your "baby"
cringing, bucking
my blood's curdling as i imagine your fingernail trailing my spine
running, scared
the soles of my feet feel as scarred as my soul
escaping, fleeing
this is as close to free as i'll be.

n.d.
As I walk through the park
Wind disturbs the leaves
Leaves fall to the ground
Moving with the flow

Wind disturbs the leaves
A colorful explosion
Moving with the flow
In this ever changing world

A colorful explosion
Leaves falling to the ground
Bringing hope in this forsaken world
As I walk through the park
 Jan 2016 Ana Julia BB Lopes
enin
drowning in caffeine
breathing the nicotine
my blood cant circulate - your love will stimulate.
the ****** of death in **** will simulate
your touch , my need
as we spiral in to sin

separation , depression , paranoia
anxiety - the absence of my sleep
aggression , desperation
toxicity - of a drama we are in
discoloration - i can't control the spin

screams - muted by bitter pills
our dreams - induced by the  acid
capsuled lives - longing self destruction
your embrace - disconnection
release me from what is real

obsession - for what we cannot fix
frustration - for what we can't control
memories - of what we used to be
delusions - of what we could have been
isolation - thoughts of being free
now voices dictate what i should feel
digging through my skin - opening the wounds
put your fingers in

remembering the days when we held
an illusion no drugs could replicate
i can't forget.
exchanging promises of never letting go
was it all in my head?
i can't escape the hole.
i walk the road alone.
Believe me, the only constant in our lives is change.
over the past weeks
a gentle autumn sun
has painted colored leaves
upon the ground
and thinned
the bright abundance
of the wooded ranges

most of the harvest
is securely stored by now
or sold at morning markets
by weathered men and women
in country garbs

vintners are busy with their lots
fermenting grapes
and entertaining those
who see their visit
as pleasant pastime and escape
from daily urban chores

hunters and lumbermen
are waking up
to shoot and mark

schools by this time
have settled into the new year
teachers are happy still to share
the knowledge of our world
with students still inclined
to listen

businessmen
remembering their vacations
on the Bahamas or in Saint Tropez
step sprightly into offices
womanned by secretaries dreaming secretly
of beautiful Mallorca summers
and of those never-ending nights
on the Algarve

I guess it is a human thing
to find a new beginning
and do best
when nature’s breath goes easy
to collect the strength
for yet another fruitful year

or were it better
that we also took a rest?

           * *

— The End —