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i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                       Alive
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                       in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                            Will i complete the mystery
                                            of my flesh
I will rise
               After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon
Sometimes the light
isn't at the end of a tunnel
Because you're stuck
in a hole
You dug to rock bottom
looking up you see the sky
Out of reach
Without hope
Darkness creeps
it doesn't run
Rock bottom
Is the best place
To build again
With recycled materials
from broken dreams
Sewn together with
Your own heartstrings
So looking up
is looking forward
Make the climb
And see the light
 Sep 2013 Roseanna H
Sand
If dust is mostly a collection
Of my own skin cells,
I hope there is enough debris
So I can sculpt a new self,
Out of a past me.
 Sep 2013 Roseanna H
Emily Tyler
To me it feels like a worm
Wiggling its way
Through my bloodstream,
Making it icy and cold
And my heart turn
To frigid emotion.

It makes its way into my
Mind,
Slowing the thoughts
In some parts,
But giving the other parts,
The nervous parts,
The parts that hyperventilate
And have panic attacks,
Caffiene.

Breathing gets hard
Because
I'm underwater,
Or underground.
Buried alive,
Or sinking slowly.

I.
Can't.
Breathe.

The worm,
The worst part about the worm?
It feeds on my life.
 Sep 2013 Roseanna H
PK Wakefield
the world
(who shall by nothing easily break)
will eat the seed, my body
and of it forest make

where shall girls
in little nothing
wander

                  lithely


(a tiger amongst
                                )
and foals will
burst their mother's womb
and life will breath
from even dark-set tombs
 Aug 2013 Roseanna H
Arabella
The scent of cigarettes
and burnt out dreams surround me,

and my heart is beating indifferently.

There's a slight breeze,
blowing straight through me,
as if I were a ghost.

I dream of dancing through the field in my mind.
Picking fruit
from the oh so forgiving trees.

Hiding from the sadness that never seems to stop chasing me.

I never knew what life would be,
constintly having your state of mind vandalized,
and emotions shattered.

With each glance,
I don't know who you are,
or who I am.

I would like to think
that we saved
each other,
but I will never truly know.

As the wind carries you toward me
I am reminded that no one can really know anyone else

and once again I find myself tangled
in a web of defeat.
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