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I was im my car vroom vroom here me go away from the yelling away from the fighting
My only excape
The way was unone, tell i saw that turn, my life was unone. i took that turn a little to fast
My only excape became my only nightmare

im kinda bad at this but i crashed and this is the only way i can let it out right now
Bryce  Aug 2018
((MODERN)) Man.
Bryce Aug 2018
A normal kind of guy
Just the guy
No cosmologist
Sans Christian
******* the droplet suns
Distant in the blackened sky

Gotta 'and'er some
The bristled gristle
The cryogenic iris
Steel teeth gnashing
Right-toe left
Ardent in an autobiography

Good man
Soft man

Locomoted his GMC
to the Sea
Thought maybe
With precise aim he
could undertow away
paradise.

No pick-me-ups
In copper-channels
That Ionized the pick-up-truck
With archaea iron
that ugly duck
Reminiscent of the man
In all but--

A castaway
Stowaway
The man who never hesitates
Bop upon the interstate
Lost within
concritical maze

Shoring up
Going home
Giving up
Turned to stone
Marble chin
Solumn grin
Chlidren sing
Seeking wings
How'd he know
Where to go
Will he see
What it means?

He's the guy
The one with the lollipop lap
Licking the syrup off the lip
Of a sweet polished sapphire
Gin
And the kids
My god
They think he
ODYSSEUS
And his dog not yet
Dead but depressive in the gloom
Howling into the midnight grass
And the creatures that stalk
With their ******* youth

Soon their weight will hit the deck
And like a noose,
Break the joints
The planks of which would stress
And bend his eyes upon his head.

God willing
Should he be exhumed
His energies excape to the river
And float,
Penultimate,
into the sea.
Rosie  Apr 2011
Thieves
Rosie Apr 2011
Sweetly she speaks of freedom
And then lies down to sleep
Within a den of thieves
Sweetdreams are replaced with nightmares
As she awakens to herself
Tomorrow she will
Excape from
All that she has created
Nickols  Oct 2012
-Run away.-
Nickols Oct 2012
A pile of miles, standing before my eyes.
Watching waiting as the denial excape down the endless miles. And onwards into a weary smile.
© Victoria
Poetry Fanatic Jul 2016
They say I've always wanted to be a poet.
That's true,
at least in part.
I love writing beautiful words,
expressing mixtures of emotions,
turing words into extravagant art,
confessing my love,
but never actually expressing my love.
I love the safe excape that it gives.
The excape from abuse,
self-harm,
shame,
disappointment,
and fear.
But if I'm being honest,
the thing I want more than to be a poet...

          Is to be someone else's poem.
Rai Dec 2012
So back again
Walking the shadows of sleeplisness
This time
Tablet in hand
An answer maybe
But not the one you may assume
If only you could read my mind
Probably best not to
Confusion has taken up residency of late
Such a strange moment
When technology astounds us once more
And words change their meanings
Ok I'm waffling
Sleep comes not fast
As the wind hounds bark
And the silver moon plays havoc
With my instincts
I would walk the moors
But there are no moors around here
So in dreaming I must excape I guess
First to down this tablet
Technology
And I don't even need water
Infact I'll just place it on the bedside table
That's all there is to it
Once I've switch it off that is.
Anais Vionet  May 2022
Sunny
Anais Vionet May 2022
My suitemate Sunny is from Nebraska. She’s 5’9,” and has cinnamon brown hair that’s half messy-bob, just long enough that she can twist it up with a pearl-studded comb, and half mohawk. She has the long, slanky elegance of someone who’s spent most of her 18 years outdoors.

She’s a cowgirl. There’s a well-worn sage-nova cowgirl hat hanging on her dorm wall and she has her own horse - a red-roan quarter-horse named Valentine - at home, of course. Her best friend growing up was a Sioux girl named Wachiwi who shared her love of barrel racing and lived on a nearby reservation.

Wachiwi was the first person Sunny came out to, at 10. Sunny was 13 when she came out to her family. “I like girls,” Sunny declared defiantly, out of the blue, one night after dinner, “not boys.” Her younger brother had snickered, her older brother rolled his head and said, “Oh, lord.” Her two little sisters seemed unconcerned. Her dad, after a moment’s thought, responded by asking her if she had taken the kitchen scraps out to the chickens yet.

Sunny grew up on a ranch and there was a rigid structure to her days. She would get up early and do ranch chores (muck out horse stalls, feed the chickens, gather eggs and set out hay) then study - but her first love was World of Warcraft.

Sunny was homeschooled and her stories of how that was accomplished are epic. For instance, they had three satellite internet services which she would have to switch between, throughout the day, like a gambler hoping to get lucky and every other Saturday they drove three hours to exchange books at the library. Whatever they did though, it worked. She’s unholy smart - like someone made a deal with the devil smart.

Sunny describes Nebraska as “basic, cliche and poor.”
“Wow,” Leong says, “you really paint a picture.”
“We all inhabited different worlds,” Sunny says, shruggingly, “Lisa’s from skyscraper clouds, Anais a palace, Leong a dystopian communist hellscape..”
“I wouldn’t say a palace,” I demur. “WHAT,” Leong screeches, throwing popcorn at Sunny.
“Stop!” Sunny says, raising both hands to ward-off further snack assaults.
“I just mean, if you were to go live in Nebraska - you’d have to go in on those terms - expecting something basic, unimaginative and poor, periodt.
“I couldn’t wait to excape.” she says, definitively, “I was thirsty.”

Everything about Sunny is deliberate, she looks you in the eye. Like a madwoman let out of the attic, she takes perverse joy in being fiercely blunt, raw and outspoken. She has a drive that can’t be mollified - she’s making her life over and you better not get in her way. The girl cracks me up - I could stand to be more like her.

Sunny’s joining my world this June for most of summer vacation. “Maybe you could show me Nebraska one day.” I say. “Maybe.. someday..” she says trailing off with a far off look, “but I wouldn’t do that to you, you’d go CrAzY in three days.”

“I’ll own that,” I say, wiping away fake tears.
.
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Mollify: "to reduce in intensity."

Slang:
Slanky = both slinky and lanky
Periodt = an absolute period - the last word - end of discussion.
Excape = future tense of escape
Thirsty = desperate for something
Cliche = unimaginative
alex loya  May 2014
lemonade
alex loya May 2014
There's not a better fealing that  I ever felt I'm dreaming
I believe in forever together
Never ever leaving
There's no one else 2 help me find a better reason how
I found myself under a spell and now I'm reaching out
Yeah... I need a remedy can't reach my destiny
The best in me just lets me see how fast these seconds leave
Baby baby I'm crazy dont hate me take these maybes I keep saying I'm making  day dreams relating I'm fading
My aching bones. pain
Unexplainable brain
Cant take control and the chains are unbreakable flame indulged
Faded soul u keep saying what I hate too know with no place to go
Can't excape the cold when u embrace the hold  
Ice pick thru the heart
Your the reason I'm making art
cant erase those marks
Right from the start I knew this was ganna be hard
Wanna be stars are ganna depart
If u wanna be smart then u gatta recharge .
Joanie Poston  Feb 2013
My Voice
Joanie Poston Feb 2013
My voice is locked up
The Key is gone
All that is left is my thoughts
If only I could break free
Excape this trap
But its got ahold of me
Dragging me back
Picking at me piece by piece
Taking every cell away that is me
Without these cells I am nothing
My thoughts flow away in wisps
I have no voice
I have no mind
I am nothing
I do not exist
This is kind of like my explanation for what its like to be shy and insecure. I have a real hard time opening up to people because I'm scared of how they will judge me. What they will think. I kind of feel trapped. Like the person that is me is just waiting to be seen, but I can't let anyone in because my thoughts and insecurities keep dragging me back.
Jessica  Jul 2013
Passed Away
Jessica Jul 2013
Whispering hope and fate
I cried for help
Trapped in a maze of world
As the dark upon me
Begin to rise

Searching for a love
All have fade and dissapeard
With no left exept me
None of these people were a friends
I'm alone in this difficult world

That moment when you're come
Whispering comforting words
Cover my hands with a gentle warmth

I watch for a breaking of day
When the sun rises in beautiful light
Between the mountain I see
A hope for me
For my future and destiny

But it won't last for long
Now it's the time
When you have to go

Tears from my eyes
Falling as I watch the sunsets
But I know I have to wait
Till' the raises of the sun

I don' care anymore
Nothing can stop me this time
I grab yout hads and run
To excape down in to the sea

I know I'll drown
I know you'll be too
Once I doing this
I can' go back anymore

God, I know
We can't be separate
Even by the death
It's the time for us to leave
Even now we're not exist
Our soul will stay together
Forever
I write this, for the broken hearted one, I hope you like it ♥♡♥
RW Dennen Sep 2014
Let's escape
urban scorching days;
hot cement,
sirens,
and flashings from red to blue
then blue again

Let's excape
where a cool, cushioned green hill
in quiet and stillness awaits
across a narrow steel blue-green bridge
A bridge crossing,weeded, rusty,
broken railroad tracks
that beckons the call
to the other side,
from warlike city
summer shouts and cries

Let's flee abandoned pill-box look-alikes
these homeless homes
Let's flee boundaries of barbed fences and stone,
these monuments of a choking society

Just the same
paradise one block away
denied by our madness
vacantly awaits,
like a non-seduced wooded hill
what impotent partners
we are

And almost never remembered,
those whispering
leafy archways,
where those bending canopy
branches spread
to protect from the sun
the absent human head
A head filled with rememberances
yet forgotten
childhood days of tranquil green,
the smell of grass,
And birds that sing and fly

Forgotten way-up-puffs
of white against blue,
a musical buzzing bumblebe
And a little dancing ladybug
on a mushroom table top
Forgotten parachute seeds,
that fly
and a branch upon the ground,
your swatting stick,
your staff,
your royal rod

All forgotten
KINGS and QUEENS
we are in paradise
just one block away...
This is in Philly around Fairmount park. The area is around
27 th and Pennsylvania Avenue where homes are blocks away and also a literal stone throw away. To get to the park
you have to cross a blue-green bridge. ( Brewery town area)

— The End —