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 Apr 2020
Sam
If you try to breathe, normal,
in through the nose
out through the mouth,
you know your breath will stutter,
come out in a gulping, unsteady way

Because your heart is too fast
(as always)
Your mind is too unclear,
stuck in a haze of fog.

So you will breathe
through only your nose,
keep the panic curled and tight
until you are all alone,
and it can lash out fast and furious,
and harm no one but you.
 Sep 2016
ryn
Tonight I flicker dimmer than most
I'm alone with everyone here
Stabbing their plates and proposing their toasts

Tonight I feel my wings but they're in cuffs
I'm alone with everyone here
Speaking their words, laughing their laughs

Tonight I bear the arrows of discreet little leers
I'm alone with everyone here
Silently goading me with their mocks and jeers

Tonight I hear whispers muttered inaudible
I'm alone with everyone here
Inconspicuous fingers pointed under tables

Tonight I write but my ink weighs heavy
I'm alone with everyone here
They pile on my thoughts, usurping the calm...
Inciting a mind full of anarchy
 Aug 2016
Nishu Mathur
Gentle falls the rain
A drizzle on senses
Cool drops on a warm eve
A symphony of water and trees
Mystic sounds - of the earth and the sky
Soothing the mind
Quietening the heat of a day of unrest
Brightening the hibiscus to a deeper crimson
Glowing with beads of water that cling
Unwilling to let go
As if they know
Some secrets of the green

And I - intoxicated
With the heady scent of a soaked earth
And the fragrance of motiya
Mellow basil that glistens wet
Like the parched, brown earth
That eagerly awaits the gift of clouds -
Like a lover
In the moist union of the elements
- Soak each drop with joy
 May 2016
yovanny andres
always trying
to replace
the void
with an
pink ocean
of tears
leaving me
senseless
weary
and lost
in my
own
 Mar 2016
Harsh
There's a certain time
that's subjective to everyone
but remains universal in principle.
It is the point where
you've checked all your emails,
replied to all your messages,
and all your notifications are read.
You've scrolled down your timeline
to a point you've already seen before
and there doesn't seem to be
anything new in the once-infinite
bounds of the Internet.
And then, time stops.
The world around you grows still,
your room is dark, unaccustomed
to the lack of light from your phone.
You can almost hear the quiet
enveloping the room.
Sleep still evades you, and
the very sound of your blankets rustling
wakes you further still.
Your thoughts wander about
as the sky begins to grow brighter,
and your eyelids become heavier.
You drift off to sleep,
and time fast-forwards in your slumber
to make up for the little while
it stopped for you.
Good god, my sleep schedule is terrible.
 Mar 2016
ryn
He doesn't realise...
The weight of his actions and words that pummel her to the ground.
Beating her down for every time she rises up to undo his ropes with which she's bound.

He doesn't see...
Past the darkened lenses that she dons.
She wears them,
not to shield her pride that was wrongfully taken,
but to protect him from the repercussions that would come with accusatory speculations.

He doesn't know...
Of the soaked pillow that accompanied her.
The rivulets of tears...
She had quietly shed without a whimper.

He doesn't hear...
The silent altercation between the treasure that beats in her chest and the thing that thinks in her head.
The struggle that ensues when the mind tries to rescind what the heart had wholly given and carelessly said.

He doesn't care...
To think of the devastating waves that come.
Only to erode the last bastion of hope she nurtures...
This frail wall that she prays for nightly.
Just so that it would hold up through another day's endeavour.

He doesn't feel...
The need for empathy.
For he thinks that he's god with one devout follower.
He commands her loyalty with his deluded testaments
and his fists as sceptre.

She doesn't live...*
To see future suns.
For her day finally set when it all came down.
The wall she had feebly held together with her life...
Easily gave way when he came at her armed with a knife.
 Jan 2016
Willow-Anne
Once there was an army
Who's forces were made of five
Together they were stronger
Than anything else alive

First there was the leader
Who was confident and calm
She offered words of encouragement
She was like the army's mom

Next there was the guide
Who was like the army's heart
She kept them all on the right path
Always happy to do her part

The army had a single warrior
That acted as its claws
She joined after seeing her lover's death
And was fighting for a cause

Next there was the strategist
Acting as the group's brain
For every single move they made
It was her behind the reigns

Finally there was the healer
Who represented their soul
Full of innocence and purity
That they were fighting to keep whole

But in reality, no one is perfect
Everyone makes mistakes
One small error along the way...
In the end, that's all it takes

The leader was the first to die
And her ego became her fatal flaw
After turning her back on an enemy
Her death was one everyone saw

After watching her closest ally die
The navigator's heart became filled with hate
Without a thought she ran into the fray
Where she too was met with the same fate

Now what becomes of a warrior
Without a leader or a guide?
She lays down her life and fights till the end
Making time for the others to hide

But the soul had lost its innocence
And the world had all turned grey
And with no body left to contain it
Her essence fades away

Left alone with just her thoughts
Is none other than the brain
She blames herself for everything
And it slowly drives her insane
 Dec 2015
Brent Kincaid
It’s time for yet another session
To inform you about depression.
You may want to say “Just stop!”
Like a psychological traffic cop.
But as any of us who suffer say
“Pal, it just doesn’t work that way.”
This is not some social craze
And it certainly is not a phase.

It is something we suffer through
And you’re lucky if it isn’t you.
It’s worse than any story you read
To have a ***** fight in your head.
There are no praises you can sing.
Something is wrong with everything.
Even the sunniest day looks gray
And you can’t see it another way.

For many of us, it’s a long sad story,
And maybe cerebral instead of gory.
Something has made our life tough.
Maybe we were never good enough,
Or that was the way it all seemed
Before our dreams began to scream.
We can seldom remember back so far
To discover where lie the scars.

There are times when things go well,
But most times it’s a personal hell.
You can’t take joy in the normal things
That might make other’s heart sing.
You find that you have given up hope
You feel you are at the end of your rope.
Sadly, while you sit and pull your hair.
You see you have gotten used to despair.

I know some of you that don’t suffer
This illness want to help a brother
Or sister come beyond this trauma.
But you can’t label our pain as drama.
What you can do to lend a hand to us
Is to listen to us and not abandon us.
What often works is a true confessional
In the hands of a well-trained professional.
 Nov 2015
Feeling Real
I want tendrilic night to descend around me
And wrap itself, drape itself, like a curtain
Velvet and thick, choke and be sick
***** all over the carpets

When the blood slows to more manageable
Clotting, destroying everything it soaks
Tarnish the mainstream, the day dreamer
Wrapped thick inside of winter coats

Baby blue mist making it's way through land
The liquid just beginning to drop
Ivy vines, they wither and shed from sunlight
And grow back into the ground

Medicine is made from the dead flowers
That grow from the pits of Hades realm
 Jan 2015
bluestarfall
The water shimmering ripples in the moonlight,
The sky reflecting visions we have seen,
The meadows are concealing our secrets,
And the memories behind the screen,
All the traces have still survived,
On the roads we have ever been.

The misty morning brought us closer,
With your scent still clung to me,
The alarm  ring would remind me,
That you were lying next to me,
In the light,the sun would call us to see,
The twinned souls we craved to be.

And everyday, our road would split in two,
Along the distinct patterns and routes we chose,
Miles away we go momentarily,
Yet the petals of the same rose,
Our lives unperturbed by the silence in-between,
And the adios has been our transient dose.

Because i have always believed,
Not much the whispers, nor the feelings enclosed,
But the words in the palinode,
Echoing ,"You are the shadow walking through me,
Traveling with me. Traveling back to me."
 Dec 2014
Third Legacy
You were only a dream
A dream so real
but a dream
I could never achieve


Like the sunlight
when it reaches me
but I could never touch
With its brightness
such a blinding light
I could not hope to stare

So instead
I look at the moon
and forget to
sleep at night
because its beauty
elegance
the same as yours
reminds me
of the light

The stars that shine
them I desire
the light's still reaching me
but the star is dead
just like my dreams
My heart in morbid beat
a poem that doesn't rhyme is as a dead poem. Us
 Dec 2014
Graff1980
I just saw some dark ****
Death and destruction
Skin perforated
Bowls eviscerated
And they called it history

Some dangerously redefining ****
Soul withering starvation
Flies and maggots
Bigots burning *******
Like they used to torture blacks

Some deep and painful ****
The looks on the little faces
Blank stares

So I flip the switch
Ignore the twitch in my stomach
Ignore the ulcer forming
Find some funny **** on tv
To distract me from reality
But the humor is ****

It all feels like a big load of crap
Nasty stinking dung hill of humanity
****** **** ****
I try to turn away
And I think that makes me the biggest
******* of all
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