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 May 2015 atlas
aviisevil
Every step I take is another scar on my soul,
I wish you could eat me and consume me whole
Rip me apart in pieces, till there's nothing left to hide-
I wish I could make you feel every tear that I've cried
So many words I've chained from the noose on my throat,
One whisper to wear and one whisper to choke,
Too much confusion, let us be gone somewhere,
Only a pull and you won't even see me anywhere.


How can I see through your eyes
In the hollow mask you keep
If all you do is dream about the lies
Tell me, how do you leave ?


You live with a delusion that I must be real,
An illusion someday the wounds you gave me will heal,
I cannot breathe, you caught my breath once again,
I hope the silence would be better than all of this pain
And there's no one left to tell us what we want,
I thought everyone will be gone, in a wish to haunt,
My hurt is for you to keep, too many tears I've bled
Now swallow my pain till your tears become red.


I've seen every whisper of love die
You think I've never seen you weep
If your lies are as hollow as the sky
Tell me, how many stars you need


Seek your own nightmare, I've had enough to feed,
So many questions but I've not got enough to bleed
Buried in your night is the tale of my blue sky
You know every answer but you still ask me why
Take me to your dreams and I might see more clear,
How it makes you feel when you have love to bear
I have no other reason to guess what you mean,
And all I want is that I can smile when you do scream.


I've had it all once upon a time
In the yesterdays for us to keep
Now that you're no longer mine
Tell me, how do you sleep ?

I've never seen you cry
Did the scar ever cut  you deep
Now I'm the one who had to die
Tell me, then why do you weep ?
Notes (optional)
 May 2015 atlas
Sky
Silenced
 May 2015 atlas
Sky
And so it takes my breath away,

yanks it out of my throat

and tosses it to the wind.

  I am left mute,

and when my lips part,

only empty air is able to escape.

  The shadow laughs

at the tears that roll down my face

as I watch my voice drift away

  on the summer breeze.
 May 2015 atlas
Sky
Wound Me
 May 2015 atlas
Sky
Stick a hook into my heart
Barbed end piercing arteries
Reel it in and
Yank the ***** out of my chest
I'll scream until I cannot feel
anything
  anymore.

  Shove a needle into my brain
Thread on the end drifting through gray
Sew up the weeping chasms
Where I have gone mad
I'll scream until I cannot make
a single sound
  anymore.

  Pierce my skin with a blade
Shining silver coated in crimson
Slide it through the thin white and
Let scarlet rivers flow
I'll scream until I cannot hear
the words they say
  anymore.

  Stab sharp-edged swords into my soul
Vicious syllables tearing me to pieces
Rip me apart and scatter the shreds
Across the roiling ocean
I'll scream until I cannot live
in this cruel world
  anymore.
 Apr 2015 atlas
Ivy Swolf
Kiss the calamity on my lips
and leave your imprint of
atrophy like a stain on my skin.
What is really a love poem
but bits of broken words
you said in your sleep?

I hear music in the distance
that sounds like things I cannot
romanticize with justice. There's
deterioration in the melody, and
with every beat
your heart skips I get a closer look
at the fragments of you that fell apart.
Somethings are just too personal,
like what I daydream about 24/7, or
that fire dancing behind your closed lids
that warms your dreams when
another can't fuel them
physically.

The biggest thing about ourselves we
could hope to have is our
complex. And even that
is pretty small. The ground can't
handle the weight of our hearts
and we're just begging to slip
into the cracks of the
pavements to our proverbial
futures. You always did
connect more to torn and ripped
remains of poems
than fresh handwritten ones, with
evidence of my glistening
fingerprints
all over.

We don't die like stars, you say. We die
like heartache. Real, tangible,
and then just gone.
wrote this in pieces, first sleepily over strong coffee at 5am, then in a brainstorming session at night. had it on a shelf for the past few days because i couldn't think of a title and because i felt it was too unconnected.

enough rambling. thank you for reading, i really really appreciate it. -ivy
 Apr 2015 atlas
AllAtOnce
you know your eyes are like needles
shooting stars up my veins
and my brain explodes faster
at the taste of your name
i can hear the color amber
when i look into your eyes
and i wonder if you hear melodies of brown
when you look into mine
i want to grind your bones into a powder
to have a piece of you once you're gone
i'd destroy you in such a beautiful way
you'll know why people share names with storms
 Apr 2015 atlas
Tony Scallo
Everything is in chaos, but lasting us
A split second, you blink your eyes
Take a breath
Credulous, yet benevolent
Mind chasing

Awaiting new thoughts, like meteors
To explode across your cerebrum
Feelings in eardrums
From the sounds around you
Constant axon arousal
Enticingly guides you
On the path to feel

Alive
With an adrenaline skeleton
Complex, trying to fit in
But really, "who are you?"

Because sometimes thoughts succumb
Beyond your grasp, and they numb the way you feel
And in those moments, we define our ideals
Almost
Soley based on the bad things
Instead of realizing

We should not define ourselves for the chaos and chatter we internally ramble on with

About half of us
Cant mold an identity anyway
Cause we don't understand
The word is not meant to be
What it's said to be

Identity's definition
Is not definite
You see

It's more like a clumsy representation
Of what you want to be
Since you are ever changing
With the vibrations of thought

Think of identity being more associated with how you adapt
To everything thrown your way

What defines you is how you display yourself
When chaos itself
Comes into your life

Everyone has strife, cause life is not easy
Just don't think you're alone
Or have a mental disease
Thoughts come in and out of our lives constantly, and sometimes we completely change our perception of ourselves if we think of something we believe is unmoral or not right.

For the most part, we cannot always control what our brain may throw at us. But what we can do is learn how to adapt to whatever is thrown at us, instead of defining or questioning ourselves in those moment indefinitely.
 Apr 2015 atlas
M
math class
 Apr 2015 atlas
M
how many standard deviations and circle transpositions do we need
to be back to ourselves again? or were we always?
Maybe it is not the point on the line that defines who we are but the line itself.
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