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Nicole Feb 2016
Desolation takes her heart
So she runs away to her safe place.
But she doesn’t know
behind the deception
A monster waits
To take her home.
Purple toes and pastel clothes
That’s all she’s got.
Humming a tune on her way through the parking lot.
Blocking out the sounds of those who doubt,
That this tiny flower can sprout.
Hidden demons in her house,
Screaming and shouting for the others to get out.
Glass on the floor
where she lies all sore,
From the bruises that litter her skin.
Purple toes and pastel clothes
That’s all she’s got.
Humming a tune on her way through the parking lot.
Blocking out the cries of those who deny,
That this little bird can fly.
Her monsters, they whisper,
Words of hate and destruction.
Slowly tearing her down.
So she holds on,
To purple toes and pastel clothes
Because that’s all she’s got.
Humming a tune on her way through the parking lot.
  Feb 2016 Nicole
Julie Langlais
Stage 1
I'm tired of being wrecked
My heart beats in my head
I'm tasting my thoughts
So fresh
My mind is racing
A marathon I never signed up for

Stage 2
I'm sick of being crippled
I'm stuck between two walls
Repressed
But now I can't move
The walls fade away
Into snowing noise
Static Siberia  

Stage 3
I'm bothered by defeat
Sole in this somber corridor
I see my comfy bed with plush linen
Summoning me
With taunting plea
I unfold in my blankets
concede to the voice
The corrupted trap
My wrists and ankles, shackled
Squirming to flee
I can't retreat
The night owl snarling inside my ears
I slam my view

Stage 4
My milky eyes are bleeding
I'm zooming again
Fleeting faster
Things are blurring
Sensory overload
I fall to the ground as my legs buckle
I look up to see..
The finish line!
I hardly stand, treading towards it
The last traces of energy
Escaping me
Yawns of hope
I just want to sleep

Stage 5
Only to find out I'm in a dessert
The finish line, simply an empty mirage
Sadness of lost hope
Disheartened and frustrated
I find myself racing
Repeating my cycle of marathons
Until morning catches up behind me.
Still running inside my tired mind

© Jl 2016
This is my midnight marathon, keeping me from sleep.
  Feb 2016 Nicole
Sprishya
My mind is a tangled string that has lost its tone
No matter what note I try to play
It resonates a sad,  dark tune that only you can take away
It keeps wandering in the hopes of falling back into the simpler blissful times when the entire world existed in the cocooned comfort of your stretched arms,
Sanity lied in the pillow of your soft *****
When I found God somewhere deep in the paradise between your legs Creating waves that our entire existence depended on
Every inch of your body was poetry
The subtle curves of your waist that put every piece of art to shame
The music with every word that came out of your angelic lips that still plays in my ears sometimes,
My mind is a tangled string
No matter which end I pull it leads to a painful knot that binds me to the memories we shared
The ones we swore would always last
Time has moved on
You have moved on
But my tangled heart refuses to let go
It keeps dragging me back
To our tangled up past
(2/16/2016, Buffalo, NY)
Nicole Feb 2016
Depression is a lonesome soul. She lives in a small house with no lights on. Dark hair and dark clothes, a genuine smile never graces her face. She curls herself into a ball of black, making herself so small that she is barely noticed by most. She brings out tears in the dead of night as people lay in their beds. Gives them the sense of tiredness that can not be fixed with sleep.
Depression has no friends except the thoughts in her head. Wondering if she is good enough, wondering if her life is worth living. Wondering how much longer she will last. She is stuck in hole without a ladder or rope to get out. Falling and falling like Alice, until she reaches her dark twisted Wonderland. Full of things that make people cry or turn their head. Smelling of a potent rose with vanilla, addicting. The silence in this Wonderland is deafening, letting thoughts come to life, screaming. The taste of blood, metallic and of molasses, slow and sickly sweet.
Depression is an addicting woman if you ever meet. Depression is a lonely woman who only wants someone to love and to be loved.
Nicole Feb 2016
Lonely, lonely little girl,
left with the last crumbs of her heart,
gave it all way,
in hopes of making them stay.
but they never do.
Lonely, lonely little girl,
hidden away in the corner of the room.
watching,
waiting,
for someone to notice.
but they never do.
Lonely, lonely little girl,
listening to conversations between the friends she could’ve had.
but she messed it up,
and they never stay.
Lonely, lonely little girl,
excitement at the plans she hears
then remembering they aren’t for her.
Lonely, lonely little girl,
she’s slowly fading away from her corner,
and no one notices.
Lonely, lonely little girl,
tears run down her face,
because there’s no love in their hearts for her,
and they took her’s away
so she doesn’t know who she is anymore.
Lonely, lonely little girl,
all alone.
for the unnoticed
  Feb 2016 Nicole
GM
If I endure this pain
For longer still
Would it make you happy
To watch me bend my natural will?
Bones can break and hearts may shatter
But my mind stays crumbling in its cage
Begging to be released
Mending itself nonetheless
They say that Angels live trapped on earth, suffering to be back in heaven.
Angels too pure for this world, will leave to return to purer lands.
I wish that were true, to tell myself there's somewhere for me to run to.
When I end my agony on Earth,
It will follow me.
Nicole Feb 2016
i lay in bed
lost in the maze of my head.
right and left
too many options to choose.
so i close my eyes,
let my heart lead my mind.

I end up in the sea of bereft.
lost among the waves of bruises
on my heart.
I’ve been knocked down so many times
and it is causing me to lose my mind.

screaming and crying,
I fall from my bed.
I love him with all my heart,
but he made us part.

so now I am alone,
and I can’t pick up the phone.
Because nothing matters much anymore,
so I think I might shut the door
of my heart.
I lay in bed,
lost in the maze of my head.
everyone leaves,
so maybe I should be dead.
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