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The Vampire rises from his sleeping chambers.
He's not after good red fluids
He fights to thirst on those "bad Bloods"
Battling the actual evil
outside of his After Life Traveled muds
In the towns that once feared him
Watching the vigilante rise and protect
those in which who feared his brothers and sisters
his Creature's Reputation
They were once to it blind
Taking down the pigs of society
The cheer drinks at the village bar with him
The Vampire warrior
Has become the King of Society's Sorority.
Vampire warrior,kevin michael kappler
 Jul 2018 Alec
simone jewell
we write because we are told
we write because we are cold

so why write poetry?

is it to obey
is it to simply misbehave
is it due today
is it more than what we say

if not
why do you write poetry?

because I can
&
because I am

we are made to feel
we are made to speak
some people are quiet
and others are bleak

words are expressive and alive
but some words are best left to die
anonymous avengers
 Jul 2018 Alec
alexa
just maybe
 Jul 2018 Alec
alexa
it's not that i'm depressed.
it's just that i've become incapable of being optimistic,
lost the ability to believe in empty cliches like
"it will get better."
it,
this mysterious pronoun has had a year and a half
to get its **** together,
to get better.
it hasn't been able to tell me
what the hell is going on in my brain.
it's not that i'm depressed.
it's just that my thoughts are smoke rings swirling around my head
clouding my vision,
tainting my decisions,
inhibiting my inhibitions.
it's hard to see the light when the spectrum is in
black & white,
the same monotone colors like
the dimness of my phone screen as
grey tears fall on it, dissipating
the smoke rings around my head.
it's not that i'm depressed.
it's just that sometimes i stand in the shower with
the water so hot i can
just
barely
take it but
isn't that the irony of it anyways?
the only time i can feel,
the only time i can breathe
is when i'm being drowned in a torrent of hell-water.
don't worry, satan approves of my
misgivings.
it's not that i'm depressed.
it's just that my words clot in my veins like stones
jabbing at my insides to be let out,
crawling up my throat,
begging,
no--
demanding
to be let out or else.
or else what? you may ask.
well the answer is or else
i may never see the sun again,
i may never smile that smile
so many say could light up a city.
it's not that i'm depressed.
just maybe a little sad
sometimes.
isn't it crazy how easy it is to share things with complete strangers? the only hesitation i feel when hitting that "save" button on public is for the few people i know in real life. crazy.
 Jul 2018 Alec
alexa
truth
 Jul 2018 Alec
alexa
“but i miss him.”

and what can you say to that?
there are no words that can come from
your lips
that will make her forget
the taste of his.
 Jul 2018 Alec
Mary Gay Kearns
On the seat my legs would swing
letting a shimmer of party dress,
Under light coat, catch the light
Of the humid Summer sunset.

Outings rare as we waited the
Twitch of electricity, flashing,
And the train rolling into view
Coming around a sharp bend.

Lifting possessions we boarded
Finding a seat near the window
Watching the sodium lights
Turn orange in the darkening.

Watford to Euston in twenty minutes
Only one stop at Harrow and Wealdstone.
We disembarked through ticket barriers
And up the sloping tiled floor to Euston.

Love Mary x
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