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 Sep 2016 Kishamore
Coleen Jade
I used to be an epitome of emotion.
I would burst in technicolor fireworks,
Louder than the night will ever be.
A mood ring would be like a spectrum,
Instead of one color, a wild rainbow.

Grenades would be no match to how I'd explode.  
More than just friendly fire,
I was a war within a body.

A vast expanse of unpredictable tides of
All the mental states you could ever imagine,
Not merely just meeting,
But crashing forcefully against the shore,
Pushing the sand away, but also bringing it closer, as it rolls back and forth
again and again.

But ever since you, my moon, left,
I am as dull as your hue of gray.
My ocean of feelings has gone still,
And has completely turned into drought.
Into nothing.

Yet why am I drowning?
 Sep 2016 Kishamore
Jennifer
I've missed you
From the ripples of your voice buried under the tidal waves of the concrete jungle
I've missed you
From the oceanic drifts of desire that wades in the pool of mad passion
I've missed you
From the piles of the unsaid lines of scripted words which were not meant to be uttered
Where it shall be silent,
And I will still be waiting
To have missed you.
She misses him, waiting for his return to her palace
Forever's a burden that none deserves to bear alone...
I wanted to share it with you, i waited for the perfect moment
to let you know but sadly I lost you with the winds of the wait,
patience was my biggest mistake,
the worst business I ever invested in because
I was told patience is one of those ventures that pays...
Maybe like they famously say; not all good
business students make great business minds
and not all successful opportunities ultimately succeed.
I loved you, I love you and I believe loving you is my future career.
I know it's a tiring job but again, what job is easy?
I choose to be your slave even if you will never know for
you will always see the rays of my undying orb of affection and care,
like the evening Sun after it's been eaten by
the canker-worm of twilight,
but you might never know I am the one lighting the way.
You will always be somebody that means the planet to me,
because you and I are post to be.
 Sep 2016 Kishamore
kailasha
Somewhere there is a piece of paper flying over an ocean,
over mountains no one can measure or name,
over houses that haven't felt a heartbeat
in years.

It's a paper with your initials and mine,
a message to me from you.

And while it travels over magic and forgotten adventures,
I sit in anticipation for those strokes of ink
on paper, and the warmth of your fingers
with skylines in my sight.
i have to send out a few postcards.
also the view from my dorm *****. #collegegal


I came across a person who told me:

"I think you are seeking LOVE,
Come, I will give you LOVE"

Without saying a word
The person held my hand and
I sat along with that person

I felt good within my soul

The person passed on to me
Pure LOVE energy

This inspired me

So when I see eyes seeking LOVE
I naturally give LOVE

Some people insult me, kick me
For showing LOVE

Some people embrace me, sit with me
For showing LOVE

This is my story
My story of LOVE
This is my LIFE
My life in LOVE


 Sep 2016 Kishamore
Phoenix
Corpse
 Sep 2016 Kishamore
Phoenix
If I look pretty
They won't see the demons I hide

If I smile
They won't see the death in my eyes

If I laugh
They won't hear me cry out

If I act this way
They won't know I died last summer

I'll look alive
But in reality
I'm a walking, talking, corpse

I'm rotting from the inside
Im truly dying
I'm done fighting

I'm good at pretending
Pretending I'm strong
Pretending I'm happy
Pretending I'm fine
Pretending I matter

But in reality
None of its true
Because I died last summer
When my demons took over

So now I'm a corpse
Among the living
A zombie
A machine
Just going through the motions
 Sep 2016 Kishamore
JR Potts
Sometimes when I think of you
I wish I had all the money in the world
because I want to give you all the finer things
the expensive dinners
the diamond rings
the designer clothes
the tropical vacations
the pearls
the shoes
and basically
every material
desire in this world.

Sometimes when I think of you
I wish I had nothing, nothing at all
because a man with nothing has time
to make love on a blanket
under the star-lit night sky
to kiss you a thousand times
to count the individual lines
inside of your eyes
until he knew them all
like his own reflection
he has time
to listen when you cry
and promise that it'll be all right,
even when he doesn't know
he wants you to know
it'll be all right.
He has time
to hold you tight,
he has time
he has time
he has time
for you.

Sometimes when I think of you
I wish I didn't have to choose
Originally Written 09/06/13
 Sep 2016 Kishamore
Tamara Fraser
I am waiting for you.
I have been since your last call;
the last words that left your lips,
the way they shaped each sound,
crisp with feeling;
the last hold I received,
warm hands withdrawn into the cold.

And now I’m busy playing your constant, forever
eternal mind games;
waiting for an end I know has to happen,
and waiting for you to make your moves and marks,
haunting mistakes or gracious choices,
whatever they happen to be in your mind.

And now I’m busy holding my heart in my hands,
watching all the people pass me waiting on the ***** street,
feeling awkward,
feeling stood up,
nursing it from the rain
and polluted breaths of people eyeing off my treasure,
smoke steaming from gaping mouths and sharp exhales,
like cascades of shining gems and mounds of
glorious entitlements, rolling down dreams
to those huddled beneath the city lights.

And now I’m busy deciding how long to keep
holding it.
Or to place it back inside it’s chest;
to thrum and pulse alone regardless, because I told it to.

And now I’m busy trying to adjust,
to leave this alone,
move my feet and leave my post,
waiting for you.
Keeping me and you alive is exhausting.
Draining nuture and tears, touches and examinations
to check that we are ok.
Are we ok?
I haven’t heard from you in weeks, but
you said you would be here.
To tell me your answer.
To make all this relentless pressure in my skull,
tension in my body
go away.
What happened to you not being the bad guy?
Like everyone who trailed crumbs of running-out love,
driving to me though the gas tank has finite space,
and held out commitment as they cowered behind it.

I haven’t heard from you.
And I desperately need to hear from you.
Should I stay, or should I go?
Are we meeting halfway, or are you expecting me to walk to you?
But I’m not.

I haven’t heard from you.
And I don’t know if I want to anymore.
Or whether I should just make this stop.
Whether I should stop denying it, and commence the
pain that stems with loneliness myself.
To be honest with myself that it is what I have to feel.
To escape from you.

And let myself
breathe and mouth the words
‘I miss you’
to the empty air.
 Sep 2016 Kishamore
Mozalios
It's hard to stay awake
When I feel nothings left
Of my worthless life
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