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No one listens
when you talk
in black and white
Only when
you color
the conversation
can you get them
to think twice
Black or White
they fight back
Turn to color
sweeten truth
Make it smell better
they hear only
what they want
Their minds
have become
untouchable
There is only
Silence
now
in the black
and white
At the door comes a knock or a beating
That demands an uncomfortable greeting
So you hide from the guest
And deny the request
For this most unavoidable meeting
 4d Isaac
ross
~

moonlight spilling from her eyes
magic pouring from her lips
the universe in audience of her beauty
even the stars would weep with envy


~
promised you a new love poem
every day till forever arrives,
for it will until then to
exhaust the crazy no limit ways to communicate
how my love for you consumes my
fragility, uncovering my core of strength,
that is never exposed, but for/to you,

but for/to you

my unidimensional surface
unpierced,
no one sees what you x-ray,
and I fess willingly, with ease of mind,
that my secrets are safe stored best within
the borderless country where our ven
diagrams of souls
intersect with iron & steel & titanium
ribboned lines of inviolate invisible
pure white


here I stop
lest I die of  bursting,
and yet I weep
for us,

for
you,


no longer
read my poetry
music
Train “Marry Me”
Chris Stapleton “Thinl I’m in Love wit You”
Sara Bareilles “Grsvity”
 6d Isaac
Heather
The things you’ve said
The things that happened
Burned in my memories
I close my eyes
It all plays on repeat
Like a broken record
 Oct 18 Isaac
Anna Wakefield
I walked along, hand in hand
Strolling towards the trees.
I was happy, had no care,
Just the dog, my mother, and me.

I ran my hands, through the green,
Humming - carefree as can be.
I was content, and had no fear,
Just the dog, my mother, and me.

I closed my eyes, to feel the breeze,
Smiling so blissfully,
I sighed, then, I remember -
Just the dog, my mother, and me.

I opened my eyes, and the trees were bare
Barren ground surrounded me -
I screamed, wordless, held on even tighter
Just the dog, my mother, and me.

The sky then bled, my mother screamed
As to why I couldn’t see
My dog barked, and I held on to
Just the dog, my mother, and me.

My mother looked at me, her mouth was open
Still screaming silently
The dog whimpered, why was it only
Just the dog, my mother, and me.

She then faded, I ran after
Holding my dog helplessly
I knew then that image was over, of
Just the dog, my mother, and me.

When I stopped, she was gone, and so was the dog
They were only memories.
Nightmares or dreams - the only way it can be
Just the dog, my mother, and me.
My mother was my best friend and confidant throughout my life. As an Autistic child with mental health problems I leaned on her heavily. After our family went through some severe trauma at which I was the centre, my mother and father became my complete family. When I had just turned 20 (Jan 2013), my mother passed away out of nowhere from a heart attack - I worked in our emergency department and was on shift when she was bought in DOA. I still miss her deeply.
She also got a dog who she absolutely adored. She said she would train it, make it obedient - and instantly caved to everything she wanted. I trained Boo (my dog) and when my mum passed away, Boo became my dog. A A couple of years ago, my dog went to stay temporarily with my aunt while I was sorting  my housing. She was in perfect health. A month later, I get a call from my father telling me my aunt has had her put down and spread the ashes due to a mysterious 'illness' that came from nowhere.

She didn't even let me say goodbye.
 Oct 16 Isaac
amanda cooper
mental illness is the
most expensive thing
i've ever owned but
never wanted
05/30/2016
 Sep 28 Isaac
William Blake
Tyger Tyger. burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye.
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile His work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
 Sep 24 Isaac
Paige
Silent art
 Sep 24 Isaac
Paige
Silence was a canvas
And no one could paint it like you could

— The End —