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In the ethereal gloaming
Of glowing flowers and dusky haze,
A lone figure was roaming
Under the sweet moon’s pale rays;
A lullaby sang the breeze
With its melody the rustling trees,
That in the night looked not so sere
And without moon’s glow did disappear;
A lost lake lay along the way
Ringed by cedar and willows weeping,
A water-lily cupped a lone moon ray
Ripe for plucking and for drinking;
Stars spangled the infinite sky,
Which is where she flew –
Up and away, further than high.
 Dec 2014 Roisin Sullivan
ryn

       you
               secretly
                       wishing, for
                              your writes to be
                                noticed•simple sign
                             that they have not been
                          missed•with every view
                     and every like•your popu-
               larity does spike•somewhat
          places your art on the poetry
      map•between major players,     
  you close the gap•constantly      
checking to see  who's been              
reading•you're always deli-               
ghted to see the 'yellow                      
lightning'
•a wish...                            
    for those who                             
     are writ-                    
ing      

secretly hope not only for your words to be
reaching far and wide, but also... trending
* the above does not apply to everyone here.
The sorry umbrella slumps sadly toward the ground.
It's body as cold as the wet night air.
The malleable aluminum handle, bent out of shape,
By the wind that's tossed it round,
To and fro like the arms of teenage kids,
And unsure of how else to rest,
With the metallic moonlight singing its melodic lullaby.

**-N.C.
I'm the umbrella.
It should've taken me seconds
To unhook this rusting bracelet
It should've taken me seconds
To just take it off and let it go

But instead I took hours

Hours fiddling,
Trying
So desperately
To free myself from its grasp
Itching to get it off
Restless,
I sit, tugging
On the charms weighing me
Down by each passing second

I don't understand
It should've taken me seconds

But instead I took days

Days choking
On the charms that used to be
My wrist is scratched, broken
My hands are red, tired
Eyes focused and
Mind set
On letting go
of the one thing pulling me down

I want it off

So why
Why can't I do it

I don't understand
It should have taken me seconds
I found this in my notes and almost forgot I was the one who wrote it hahah I vaguely remember writing this at around 2am
The age demanded that we sing
And cut away our tongue.

The age demanded that we flow
And hammered in the ****.

The age demanded that we dance
And jammed us into iron pants.

And in the end the age was handed
The sort of **** that it demanded.
I walk a lonely road this day.
It's all in what I see;

Green trees,
Blue Sky,
Cotton ball clouds.

No one else I see.

A strawberry butterfly sees me.  
Can I have a ride on your shoulder,
Please?

For the longest time, She kept me company.

Without a word she flew away...

Copyright © Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
luck when a butterfly lands on you
http://youtu.be/FoS9evj3r8Q
 Dec 2014 Roisin Sullivan
jacky
the words i cannot tell you
itches around the walls of my throat

there they lie
at the edges of my tongue

i cannot breathe
i cannot think

the only way to stop
is to tell you

i found the universe
and where it stops, where it begins
beyond your eyes
inside your mind

i got lost
Red Lipstick

What I never leave the house without

Because it ***** out all the pigment in my skin

It drowns out all my ugly features

Red Lipstick

but today

I'm going to try

not wearing it

Because if she is brave enough

to face the demons in her head

this time of year

I can face mine

I should be able to be strong too


No Lipstick

I think everyone in the station is staring at you

No Lipstick

They are all thinking you're hideous. You should be ashamed. Those poor people who are forced to look at you. Go put on lipstick

No Lipstick

Look. Can you see your reflection in the glass? See how ugly you are?

No Lipstick. But beauty is not the most important thing.

Look, it's a girl from your elementary school. She just looked at you. The prettiest girl in the class. The one the boys liked, including the one you liked for so long.

No Lipstick. It doesn't matter. I don't care what she thinks.

Yes, you do. Now you have confirmed what her friends always said. What she has always thought. You. Are. Ugly.

No Lipstick. I don't care if I am ugly.

Yes, you do.

No Lipstick. Stop! Get out of my head!

No one has ever looked as repulsive as you.

No Lipstick. I'm fine.

No you're not. You're crumbling.

No lipstick. I am not. I can do this.

No you can’t. You’re too pathetic. You are not as strong as her. You are not brave. You are fighting a losing battle.

No Lipstick. Stop hurting me!

You are not allowed to stand up for yourself. You can't talk back to me. You are too ugly to deserve to be allowed to.

No Lipstick. I hate you!

Then that means you hate yourself.

I know. And I do. But I have to do this. It’s time to prove I care more about living my life than being pretty. So No. Lipstick.
Not every battle is as obvious. Something like leaving the house without lipstick can seem so simple and almost stupid to make a fuss over, but it is really, really hard for me to do today. I have to prove to myself there is no way that I have dysmorphia.
To all of you who are fighting quiet battles with yourselves, I send love and courage out to you. <3
 Dec 2014 Roisin Sullivan
A
Rings
 Dec 2014 Roisin Sullivan
A
Home is your favorite coffee stain
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