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 Jul 2016
Lunar
He's the nearest, biggest star to her--
her light, her sun, is what he is.
With him, the most vibrant of days occur;
not a shade or color is missed.

And she's the morning star to him--
his gentle greeting sent from above.
With her, the celestial matter of his daily hymn;
not a note or tune unloved.

So who said stars only have to meet at night;
When the two star-crossed lovers will cross paths some way?
And who said stars only shine when it's not bright?
For them, they radiate light better in the day.
it's been a while since i've been this poetic for a friend! It's 12:36am as I post this, but let's say my mind is working as if it's noon and i just finished downing a cup of black coffee with two sugars.

Here's to N x S! And I love them both as much as the number of stars in the sky. Whether I see them or not, I know they're there and I love them, in both day and night.
 Jul 2016
Broken Molecules
Sleep
At 2 AM
Uncommonly
I have insomnia
No.
Sleep
No sooner than 2 AM
Every night
Work at 6 am
Sleepless, restless nights
Caused by the burning hole
Silent attacks at 4 AM
In fear of waking the house
Phone died
No charger
I’m so depressed
No.
Lack of energy
Lack of motivation
For basic tasks
Last shower?.
4 days ago
Mental illness
Laying in bed
Paralyzed
Responsibilities to be completed
With no will
To put effort
Consequence?.
A racing pulse
Sweat dripping
Palms shaking
Ragged breathing
Searching for savior
Once in a person
Disappeared
Alone again
Nowhere to turn
Swallowing the pain
Razor sharp
Slicing down my throat
Choking back
Cries for help
They don’t care
Broken
All you’ll ever be
Searching for silence
At the bottom of bottles
The butts of cigarettes
The bowls of pipes
Till my feet lift
From the cold pavement
Till…
…Numb
 Jun 2016
Allania Berkey
She wanted to write just was on her mind,
What she really felt, but she couldn’t.
She found difficulty putting her feelings into words  
And her words into perfect syntactical form.
She knew the moment it all crossed her mind, she would never be able to write a sentence of all of her hurt.
 Jun 2016
Aeerdna
Forget me not
when my soul will go to sleep,
when my lungs will stop breathing
and my ashes will disappear in the wind,
when my eyes will shut,
my colours will fade to grey
and my words will quietly remain
behind my cold lips,
forget me not
when my time will come to go to the unknown world
when my legs will stop walking
and my heart will stop pumping
when my arms won't have the power
to hold you closely,
when I will be living only in the past tense,
in lost whispers
and fading memories
forget me not
forget me not
I'll still be here
I'll still be here
to kiss your heart.
 May 2016
v V v
tachyphylaxis - tach·y·phy·lax·is (tāk'ə-fĭ-lāk'sĭs)  n.
1.    A rapidly decreasing response to pleasure following initial administration.

I didn’t know this
demon had a name.
Ugly as it is it fits,
a random mish-mash
of unpleasant sounds
and equal unpleasantness
felt.

I’ve known the *******
forever, manifest in vitamin cures
and psychological processes,
SSRI’s and stabilizers.

He attends to the end of
affectionate loving and all
the designer vacations
you've ever taken.

He is the golden handcuffs of
square foot home ownership
and his business cards are
set in silver.

To put it bluntly
his continuous presence
is intent on destruction
of any contentment.

He is all things along the way
that appear so promising at first
but never last.

Synonymous with tolerance,
antonymous with precedence,


the antagonistic leaven of all living.
,
 May 2016
Maple Mathers
Just look at me now.
All gift wrapped, and such
Do you like what you see?
Cause I don’t, very much.

                    As the lying won’t cease
                    And my truth is horrific,
                    You don't want to ask me
                    To be more specific. . .

So I’ll say goodbye
And tell you to go;
Don’t look for a truth
You won’t want to know.
I wrote this when I was 15 post observing the guidelines of traditional ballads. This is the product of a linguistic makeover :)

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
 May 2016
Dark soul
I offered my soul to the demon
Demon said ,
"You already have me lurking in you  ........
perks of your vice surging ,
being unseen .
You are more of a demon
by being a human
than I am by being me "
The sickeningly sweet voice of oblivion calls me, promising beautiful things.
How I yearn to fall, drifting forever in between dreams
to be able to shed the weight on my shoulders and replace it with swirling darkness.
Oblivion beckons me further and further into the blissful silence.
I know if I follow to the end of this tunnel
I will never return but the thought makes me smile.
The pain and regret washes away as
I fall into complete darkness.
Oh how sweet oblivion tastes.
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