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 Oct 2015 Isaiah
echo
Mistery
 Oct 2015 Isaiah
echo
you've caught my eye
but can you hold
my ponderings?
Wondering if you're everything I wonder you to be...
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
Jamie Horridge
You don't know her,
and she doesn't know you,
but she'll smile right back,
In hopes that you smile, too

She's got a heart of gold
But she's blind as a bat

So you want to get to know her?
You want to trace your way
Through the roots beneath her feet
But boy, she grows guarded
She's not just any tree

She's got a heart of gold
But she won't give you that

You don't know her,
don't ask her to stay
You're no different
And she will push you away

She's got a heart of gold
But she's strong as nails

There's no saying how close
She'll decide to pull you in
But don't get comfortable
She will shed you like skin

She's got a heart of gold
But she doesn't need a thing

Don't blame her
She doesn't know what she does
She only sees the aftermath
The bruises and the cuts
She will look at them all wide-eyed
"Who would do such a thing?"
She simply cannot fathom
All the pain her love can bring

She's got a heart of gold
But she's blind as a bat
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
echo
Smoke
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
echo
.
Another
thing
I cannot grasp

.
5w
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
echo
Thoughts
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
echo
thoughts flow out
from my fingers...

they must still hold
my dreams

from when

I slept

with
my head
on my hands*
~
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
echo
..
  It's the
      Why's?
            That Make the
                  Wise Wise
                         ..
haha... its true though :P

~ just a thought for today ~
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
Tim Knight
You hide your hair in the
space above your tucked-away thoughts;
waterfall wor
                        d
                              s
that
            run
                        into
                                                           strea
                                                                                m
                                                                                                s
of consciousness
out of red dam lips
and through airy pipes
to my manhole ears,
stepped on and discarded by feet and prams
for century's years.
FROM coffeeshoppoems.com. Submit your work now for the chance to be published online.
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
Shravya
Her fingers dance on the piano
But she's looking at the door
Dreading the moment he walks in,
Forcing her to give him more

The floorboards creak eerily,
The doorknob slowly turns.
At the mere sight of him,
Her stomach painfully churns

Tears shield her emotions,
But not the disgust on her face.
She knows he can humiliate her,
In more than a hundred ways

The music stops almost instantly,
Her fingers ache; trembling, sore
Even though no one can save her,
Her hopeful eyes don't leave the door.

Crouched against the wall,
She curses the cruelty of fate,
For locking her up In this room,
Filled with terror and hate.

She trembles at his sight,
If she shouts, no one can hear
Her helplessness thrills him,
He laughs at her fear

Even his shadow makes her shudder,
So, she knows she'll never flee
But she won't stop waiting for the day,
That brings his death and sets her free.
 Nov 2013 Isaiah
Andreas Tsironis
Back
Is
Relaxed.
Blood
Races
Through
Veins.
Tension
Builds,
And…
­Builds.
Claws
Dig
Into
My
Chest.
Scars
Form,
Blood
Pours,
Making
­The
Tension
Grow,
And…
Grow.
It
Aches.
Body.
Shaking.
Spine.
Curv­es…

Up
While
The
Claws
Rips,
And…
Rips
At
My
Flesh
And
Pull
At
M­y
Booonn-
Esssss.

It’s
Over.
The
Claws;
Now
Fingers.
She
Grabs

Tissue.
And
Wipes
Off
My
Tension.
 Sep 2013 Isaiah
Tim Knight
Feeling fairly good tonight,
a note to Bukowski to drink again.*

I lost the hours of nine,
ten and one to the wine, bought
but days before in a rush out the door;
it was wet and I was late
to a meeting with myself in a basement
where windows wait upstairs, the casement
a see-through hole to everything outside,
to everything I want to be-

- it's a silent show when these days happen,
usually conjured up from empty pockets
and the need to be nowhere important,
safety curtains fall in front of shops:
they are not libraries for browsing
they are establishments for purchasing-in-

nine and ten came back to me,
one still escapes though, lost
to the palm of a waitress taking the money.
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