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 Sep 2017
AnxiousOcean
A new face
A stranger
One that can resurrect a withered flower
My eyes were stunned
It’s more like I’m dreaming
Please don’t wake me up
This feeling’s overwhelming
I think I’m in love
But I do not know exactly
Is this love at first sight?
Why does time run slowly?

I was jealous of everyone near you
You have hurt me unconsciously
I manage to come near you
And finally, I was with victory

Lots of things happened
More on pain than love
I became selfish
I just wanted to be with you
But it turned out
That the love I offer is not true
Nothing’s wrong with you
It’s about me
I thought I was in love
I thought it was love that I felt
I thought you were perfect

But I was wrong
Love’s not about perfection
It’s about accepting flaws
And every single thing
All I had was infatuation
Nothing
But a deep, deep thing
Now I’ve realized things
I’m sorry for all the damage
All the troubles
And mess

Don’t worry, for you,
Promise, I will learn to love
my cousin asked me to write a poem about infatuation, sadly I don't think I've given it some justification, because for me, it's more of a story than a poem. anyways, enjoy reading! :) God bless
 Sep 2017
TexasRambler
The ferocious hands of fate push me gently yet mercilessly me into becoming a pallid shell of a man.
A crumbling mausoleum of faded memories residing in my heart shatters all the edges of my stoicism.
Time passes slowly to a man trapped by nightmares inside a forlorn brick cage, simply unable to fly free.

I can see the garden of eden living inside a woman's smile before she abandons me in brimstone streets.
There are soft distorted melodies between the endless amounts of the harsh choruses of gnashing teeth.
There have been no words more sordid words spoken since the foolish final loud yet silent foolish goodbye.

All of my daily nightmares are enlaced with the makings of pleasant golden wishful and merry dreams.
Oh how I long for beautiful eastern maidens, long arid desert nights, and a love that I just can’t ever find.
In the depths of sleep between the screams and cold sweats I feel hope dashed amongst the wicked things.
 Sep 2017
Quentin Briscoe
In our last episode many moons ago..
Our young hero burned into the sun..
Or so it seemed..
But'
I Jumped in the light of a Flame.. I was consumed.. The darkness over came this superhero dude... Turning him full cycle .. Full ******.. Pressed in a Deep state.. Full idol..
Forgot how to fight back.. Forgot what gave me my power.. In land full of fake light.. I gain my powers from the Son.. The One... So I'm walking out the flame.. Clearing out the smoke.. Back in tho the shine.. Back to saving folk...
Well.. Back to all the girls.. Back to night time... I'm just a Psychosuperhero... Trying save the World...

-Psychosuperhero
 Sep 2017
Quentin Briscoe
Dear journal,
I wake up every morning hoping to be the man I would find worthy enough for my mother...

Dear love,
This is for you...

Dear Lord,
I don't know what's in store for me, but you can see my heart... I pray that you guide me in the direction that leads to Your Will.. I ask for peace and comfort, strength and understanding....

Dear self,
It will all work out. It is in his Hands
 Sep 2017
Isabelle
To you, love was about multitudes
To me, love was inordinate

“I love you” I would say
“How much” you would ask
-Lang Leav

You like specifics, you like to hear
How much I do, how much I can
But darling, my love is inordinate
I couldn’t quantify, it’s too lavish
Sometimes unconscionable
And multitudes is never enough
If you ever ask me again
I’ll ask you to count the star
On every galaxy
Until you loses track
I’ll ask you to count every grain of sand
On every ocean floor
Until you ran out of numbers
I’ll ask you to listen to my heartbeat
On every second of the day
Until the infinite of infinities ends
And if ever you asked me again
Of how much I love you
That’s my definition of “how much”
12:38 am poem. Inspired by Lang
 Aug 2017
Cné
The sunrise yet is masked behind
the scudding clouds of gray.
I close my eyes to see
the vivid colors on display.

Somewhere a rainbow arced
across a sky of blinding blue.
But if it did, t'was lost to me
beyond my cloudy view.

And so, I must imagine it,
like the sunrise I can't see.
But even so, they're beautiful,
to the poet that is me.
It's nothing compared to those in south Texas, to which my heart bleeds.
I am dust.
Blown by the wind
And rained down
By evaporated seas,
And flowing
And glowing
And starting
A sneeze.

I am dust.
Just a tiny piece
Of earth,
Just a flying piece
Of rock,
not steady,
But ready
for permanent
Change.

I am dust.
Not now,
But always,
And important
Through all days
Like Saturn
Or Plato
Or Gods
On walls.

I am dust.
And as dust flows
And as wind blows
And as my
Soul beats
With ashes,
I will
Forever be
Dust.
Have a look at a piece of dust floating on a down coming ray of light. And exhale towards i, to have its course changed. That is how we both are, you and I, dear reader. Dust, on the waves of time.
 Aug 2017
Rai
Exquisite is the moment before remembering who I really am
All my naked emotions are running riot
And yet
Here I am at the dawn of a new day

New vices and old habits have become routine
the rain just keeps pouring.
Leaving its traces down the window washed clean is this charred view from within.

Tracing the raindrops as they free fall
Spiralling out of my control down a crystal walkway that leads no-where.
Emotions like daggers are drowned into a numbness that I manage to grasp
but not let go of.
Where to next my friend who am I in this moment?

Nothing can compare to the storm within the mind.
To many faces etched in stone and the dreams only exist in a nightmares sense.
Today won’t haunt tomorrow as the past thrives within the pain.

Waves break just before the shore.
And that that was
simply reminds us of what shall never be.

It’s hard I cannot lie to you
The bottom of the bottle is looming
Just like the end of some romantic novel
We crashed and burnt
When in hell will this grieving turn to anger
At least in anger I will find once more my lost spirit
My salvation
Another team effort between myself and the amazing John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo everyone's friendly bar tender
It has been a pleasure my friend and remember the road may be bumpy but with true friends on board your make your way out of the gloom in the end
If it wasn't for you I probably wouldn't be writing right now so Cheers
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