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 Jun 2018
Colleen R
When all is said and done
Look how love has ruined us

What once was soft now turned to steel
I lost myself in the labyrinth of your actions
Unable to find sanctuary in the sanctity of my mind

"This is how you lose me"
I whisper to an empty room on lonely sheets
"This is how I leave you"
I observe in the wreckage of our antipathy

I cut my lips on the sharpness of your words
Stained my soul with the color of your rage
You pricked your finger on the thorns hiding within my heart
The garden once between my ribs now a barren wasteland

"This is how you lose me"
I sowed myself among seeds that never grew
"This is how I leave you"
I buried the heart I once offered to you

Look how love has ruined us
What once was kindling now turned to ash
Look how love has ruined us

Look
 Jun 2018
Colleen R
The truth was painful, so you buried it
Dug a hole into the earth six feet deep
Nestled it right beside your childhood
Threw some dirt upon its coffin and fashioned a crude cross out of bones and teeth

In death, Truth is just as ugly as it was in life
But you feel safe with it out of sight
You loosen the fist you weren’t aware you were making
You tend to the ****** red crescents from where they’re branded into your palm
You say a few words but what words are left when they’re buried below your feet?

You tell yourself it was a kindness
You swear to yourself that it was a means to an end
But there was no justice when you held its life in your hands
No mercy when you buried your fangs in it’s heart

You convince yourself that it was an act of love
“The truth is painful” and “the world is ugly”
Without the truth, you believe maybe there’s still some beauty in the world
Can convince yourself that the blood red rose on an unmarked grave is a sign you were right

Six feet under, Reality is weeping.
 Jun 2018
Aslam M
Too many thoughts entangle me
Unable to see
Pressed the Ctrl + Alt +Del Key.
At times we are in a analyses paralysis mode with too many ifs and buts while taking a decision and ultimately cancel  the entire process and Reset ourselves out of frustration because we are unable to take any decision at all.
 Jun 2018
Elizabethanne
Sometimes I swear to God
I can feel who I used to be -
Slip into bed with me at night.

- I am trying to be new but I still love everyone I left behind
 Jun 2018
She Writes
She was more than a pretty face
Hiding secrets
Behind lipstick and lace

She wanted to be truely seen
For who she was
Not who she’s been

She was more than a body
To use and shove aside
When he was feeling naughty

She wanted movie love
The kind of romance
She’s only ever dreamed of
 Jun 2018
She Writes
I’d rather write than speak
My pen is always responsive
My ink doesn’t judge my mistakes
My paper doesn’t argue
My lines never cross me
My sentences never disappoint
And my words will never leave me
 Jun 2018
seshi
there are so many beautiful pieces of me I can't let you touch

because what if it's my problems

that come spilling out instead?
never see me outside monochrome for my colours burn too bright
 Jun 2018
Triste
I fell in love with you
My ocean blue
Silent and deep
I will forever weep
For your heart I cannot keep
 Jun 2018
PEARL SMOKE
Devil I don’t want you.
Devil i don’t need you
Devil I wish I never met you .
I’m so crushed & right now?
I feel like crushing you .

Why Are You pulling me?
Why are you luring me?
Go away, leave me be
Please let me live

I don’t want you
I want to go far away
I know how much you torment
Whatever reason , I want you anyway.

I can’t do this
I can’t keep falling
I’m addict all over again

All I think of getting it
To get lit and feel numb each day
I’m sober & I hate
I’m reminded why it is
I seek an escape
 May 2018
The Guardian
Beware of the sharpest poet with a pen in hand, for she will scribe the harshest of words that will forever reside in your heart.
 May 2018
Satsih Verma
A fallout from your
waning smile, parades
a naked wound.

A slice from a wake―
remembers me.
I was sitting in lotus position
ready to go for abdication.

Your message was elegantly
subtle. Not to lose conscience,
remaining the first lover of death.

Exiled from guillotine,
you don't see holiness in
the talons of eagle coming down.

The tree and a river
were old friends. The scarves
tied to the old branches, will
tell the collaborated suicides.

No sane hands will break
the knees of moon.
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