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i’m not afraid of what might future holds for me, i’m  more terrified of what i’m going to lose because of me.
 Apr 2014 DarkDepriment
Poetic T
In the dark we are all strangers
with just a voice, never seeing,
judgment of others only by the
tone of a voice.

The darkness covers are faults,
not of our own. but what others
would think, it is a cloak that
hides us in a blanket of secrets.

Would we touch around, hands
to one self, or feel others features,
woman or man, does the voice match
what you thought the features would
be like.

Darkness is a blanket that hides
misconceptions of others, hiding
religion, skin tone, looks are nothing
in darkness as this all melts away, for
in darkness we are one and the same...
Dissappeared as if a dark cloud decayed the body in a matter of miliseconds and disposed of it somewhere unknown.  Never did I see a single sign of being psychologically sick.  Not one piece of evidence to prove her existence. Multiple memories of her wither away slowly.  No discernment  to the delphian disappearance.  Very vague memories of her,  perhaps she was a vision.  Maybe,  just maybe my imagination  had gone too far with my mind. No! Her disappearance  was real;  but due to her irrelevance,   and exodus she was forgotten in the conscious  mind of others. Maybe its time that I finally forget about the phantom that haunts my memories, and makes me question my sanity.  Gone she is,  and gone she will be.  So the acknowledgment of her existence  is Irrelevant.  She is now,  and forever has and will be nonexistent. -V.H.
 Apr 2014 DarkDepriment
Triiniity
Why do you still resent me? Why judge me on my past deeds? I know it's all about who remembers, but no one remembers me. Why do I still have feelings? Why do I still write these? Not like anyone will notice, the way that my smile bleeds.
 Apr 2014 DarkDepriment
Emma
People say
that time flies by
and one day
you realize as you're lying in bed
that you're 80 years old
and it's 3 in the morning
and you're trying to remember
what it was like to have
a 20 year old mind
and a 10 year old heart
but see
by the time I was 10
I already had a broken heart
see when I was 9
I met a boy whose eyes
put the stars to shame
a lad whose smile
could light up the entire world
see when I was nine
I met the boy of my dreams
But to him, I was but
another weird girl
see what he doesn't know
is that the first time I saw him
leaning up against that wall
I thought to myself
I don't want anyone else
but him
see what he doesn't know
is that as we grew older
I fell in love with him
see what he doesn't know
is that no matter how many times
he breaks my heart
my heart still looks
for him
but there is one thing
I know
and that is
that when time
suddenly flies by
and it's 3 in the morning
and I'm 80 years old
and have forgotten everything
and am trying to remember
what it was like to have
a 20 year old mind
and a 10 year old heart
I know
I know
that I will remember
**him
My bestfriend.
For the very first time, I'm about to be a grandmother, from the wife of my youngest son.  We pray that all will go well, the day the baby will come.
I do have good news, concerning the Cancer I had.  God blessed me to be free of the Cancer, since 2011, for this I am very glad.
I have more good news, I still have my job at school.  May they keep me on, so I can be daily used.
I have more good news, I'm still living for the Lord.  I'm still uniting with my Christian sisters and brothers, as we meet in one accord.
By, Sandra Juanita Nailing
trying hard not to hear but they
talk so loud
their piercing sounds fill my ears, trying to fill me with doubt
Blind date you called it
So the girls aren't scared
Even when you have
...your seeking eyes open
To admire their fragility
and hidden values
while they giggle shyly
Slowly yet impatiently
observing their weakest points
Soft rosy cheeks
Delicate skin...
the young innocence...
too late now...

To witness the seducing acts...
Enjoying...
While the girls wide eyes...
silently shut.
Whispering
Good bye to innocence...
 Apr 2014 DarkDepriment
leah
in the morning
i watch the strangers leave their warm beds
and admire them as they go out into the world
i sit in the sun when i can
and usually don't tell people the truth
because i don't think they deserve it
or it's not worth wasting a breath
so i just watch instead

during the day
i walk around and try to make things right
or at least
make them seem right
and while i'm busy trying to make hands fit
i sit there and try to figure out what to say
but usually can only come up with adjectives
not full sentences

at night
when i get home
i sleep on the floor
and i pick at the brains of the monsters
under my bed for a while

and then i always go through
the whole day again in my mind
and try to figure out what exactly i was
thinking when i left you
part fictional and dramatic because i wanted to turn it into an angsty love poem after reading some Winchester tonight. i dig it though.
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