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 May 2019
Scot
I look in the mirror and see
Wrinkles impressed upon me
Some from good and some for bad
I've earned each one, I'm not sad

Each wrinkle tells a story
Some glad some gory
So many ups and downs
Caused the smiles and frowns

I gaze the mirror and ask
Is this really me I take to task?
How did time fly by so fast?
My life is set in wrinkles cast

Upon my face, I wear my life
My sons and dearest wife
Some happened in the fire
Some took form because it was dire

I prefer the ones that came from smiles
A raised brow to see for miles
A ripple around my face pointed up
I wouldn’t remove a wrinkle, it's been my cup
 May 2019
kevin hamilton
oh god, you were right
to say that nothing happens
when we die
just as the lights burned out
and our woven hands
were drowned in cimmerian dark
i am scared that i will go
without a sound
and ever haunted
by the souls i keep
in the centre of my heart
 May 2019
Graff1980
The ravenous
cavern is
where they come
to be devoured by this
horribleness.

Four strangers
and my mother
line up
to face a mirror
of fear
and suffering.

A fearsome fiend
appears
in each reflection,
major killers
from movies,
like Leather Face
Freddy Krueger,
Michael Meyers,
and Pinhead.

One by one
each person
is sliced and diced
right through
their life
by monsters
that never leave
their mirror.

Then comes the Hellraiser
reflected before
my mother.
Razor chains of pain
explode out
and pierce her skin;
Embedding and shredding
tender flesh,
rending red screams
of terrible suffering
from her lips.

In her agony
she reaches out for me,
but I retreat
in a state of fear
tinged with
a little bit
of indifference.

When she realizes
that I will not
be the heroic type
and save her life
she slits her throat
and dies.

Immediately,
I awake, ashamed
and deeply disturbed.
Though, I
do not believe
in any higher meaning
part of me wants to know
what that was all about.
 May 2019
muteD
I should break every single finger of mine.
Starting with my pinky
and ending with my thumbs.
I should snap them like carrots
at every ******* knuckle.

“Why?”
why not?,
would be the simpler answer.

but in reality,
simplicity is really
unknown
to me.

I wish to feel a different pain.
Even if that means,
grabbing my scissors
and slicing each vein.

I should lay in the street.
Right in the middle.
and wait.
Maybe if I wear all black
I’d be unnoticed.
or I could be myself
cause she seems to be invisible anyway..
either way,
I wish this rain would stay.
that way if i was seen
laying in the middle of the street,
slowing and braking
wouldn’t even save me.
This is the first thing I’ve written in about a month. My depression won’t let me be happy, it just won’t let me feel anything worth feeling. I only feel anger.. and sadness.
 May 2019
muteD
my alone
feels so
lonely.

like i am a leaf
and I’m just floating.
unable to grasp onto anything.
unable to hold on.
without an anchor,
I just continue to rise
like bread does if you leave it out
for some time.
but what’s different this time
is my mind.
I keep on rising
and a little part of me keeps on dying.

and all I keep thinking is


it’s lonely up here.
Someone asked me to write a poem about loneliness.. with no guidelines,  I tried to write something that she could relate to. But, I realize that the loneliness I’m feeling is different from what I’ve ever felt..  so writing about it, was actually kind of difficult
 May 2019
Gatwiri Karen
I didn't get a pick on what to haunt me,but I'd wish for you to know that I'd never take anything back :/
 May 2019
Niesha Radovanic
lost myself
in a whirlpool of *** and drugs
let my fat cells absorb it all
came down and crashed
bathroom floors covered
in me
a trace of forevers
stamped by the odor of
pheromones and detox
i have never wished to be dead so much
pinky promises that this was the end
walking on tight ropes
this acrobat could not even spell
balance
if she wanted to
get lost to find yourself
what if who you find
is just someone you want to cover up
hide her behind closed doors
one door closes and it stays closed
the acrobat remembers
why she locked the door
the first time
who gave you the key?
who let you into this barbaric aftermath?
the acrobat will do tricks along the rope
of nightmares
until she wakes up
awaken by the prince charming
she always wanted
the acrobat does not believe
she is worthy of a prince
there are no glass slippers here
just bruised feet
from the mountains she had to climb
to even find the castle
she wants to burn the castle down
set match to the architecture of this
imaginary home
fill it with flames
so they will never remember
who poured the fluid on this dream
 May 2019
Tabbitha Erceg
Sometimes
I worry
I have spent the entirety
Of my present
In the past
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