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 Apr 2013 Chris
R
Hmm.
 Apr 2013 Chris
R
It seems like
The perfect guy
Is right in front of me.

Sometimes though,

It feels like
The perfect girl
Is right next to me.

Other times,

I wish that the guy who writes
Beautiful poetry
Could be mine for real.
 Apr 2013 Chris
Kirsten Lovely
There's dreams some nights
They come and go
These dreams where I lay dying
My thoughts, they scream, with white hot sounds
'Why death?' They ask
'Why dying?'
The truth, I say, a sad one so
The truth, and I'm not lying,
I like these dreams, the scary ones,
The ones in which I'm dying.
There came one night
A different dream
Where I did not lay dying
Instead it was the ones I love
Sad, angry, crying
But their sweet touch- that was not dead
It's what's inside that passed.
Dreams and visions shattered
Like the precious broken glass.
They turned around to let me see
What they all cried about
The sad, broken, little story
That no one knew about.
I lay there, small and pale
Like a little newborn pup
There was no wailing, no new life
Taken with a cut.
They cried and sobbed
'Why is it so?
However could this be?
Beautiful life, oh daughter, friend,
Please, come back to me!'
I shook them, kicked and hit
'Hey, why can't you see?
Please turn around and listen!
It's me, it's me, it's me.'
They didn't look,
No words, more tears
'You need to see,
You need to hear.'
With that I woke
That horrid dream
Such death brought no delight
But what had really changed my mood?
Oh, what had shown the light?
I finally saw my family
That night inside the dream
Broken, sad, and crying
And they never got to see.
I realized dreams of dark and death
Is not something to take light
But whatever I have felt before
Hurts much less than that night.
 Apr 2013 Chris
Jemcastspells
19.
 Apr 2013 Chris
Jemcastspells
19.
Oh how I tire of the games that are played.
The useless lies veiling truth.
In shrouds of weakness.
How the fear overcomes reason.
Foolish as they can be.
We allow their fantasy to remain.
Standing our ground.
Holding strong to what we know.
Waiting with patience and persistence.
As we always have since the beginning.
Maybe once they open the blind eyes.
To the reality presented before them.
They'll see how to mature and evolve.
Into a superior being.
Only then will they learn true happiness.
 Apr 2013 Chris
marina
toska (n.)-
a dull ache of the soul,
a longing with nothing
to long for
not really a poem at all, moreso just a thought.
 Apr 2013 Chris
Sophia
exhaustion
 Apr 2013 Chris
Sophia
my whole world fell apart

with the dull roar of your whispered breath

we set ourselves on fire

covered our mouths with smoke

and swallowed up thoughts of dying

patiently waiting on the edge

between dreams and sleep

our brains humming with the exhaustion of loving

but never doing anything about it

maybe this shouldn’t bother me anymore

but i’m tired of waking up on my own
 Apr 2013 Chris
Molly Rosen
Untitled
 Apr 2013 Chris
Molly Rosen
I'll smile at anything,
But nothing makes me happy anymore.
I'm just afraid to show how I feel,
Because being weak might scare you away,
And you're all I have left.
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