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Haylee Dicker  Jan 2015
Tragic
Haylee Dicker Jan 2015
Would it be poetetic to take this blade across my wrist
The silver kissing at my arteries

Would it be romantic
To die because of love
Possessive hands choking me.

Would it be beautiful
To breath my last breath
Leaving behind all those who care.

Or would it be tragic to abondon this world before my time.
Mother and father crying over me.
Sydney Victoria Aug 2014
Let The World Envelop Me,
And Abondon My Hollowed Body,
Let The Stars Free Me From Anguish,
And The Error Of Hesitation

Let The Sea Consume Me,
And Let My Weary Eyelids Close,
Let The Current Cast Away My Doubt,
And The Insecurities I Hold Tightly To

Let The Flowers Tickle My Skin,
And Let Them Take Away The Envy,
Tell The Sun To Nurture What Is Good,
And Let The Rest Fade Into The Breeze

Let The Soil Embrace Me,
And Extract All Which Gives Me Pain,
Let The Earth Feed Upon My Hatred,
And Convert My Remorse To Nourishment
So, It's Been A While.
Marie-Lyne  Dec 2018
Creed
Marie-Lyne Dec 2018
If we fight ourselves
How do we know that we won or lost?
How do we know when to continue
When to stop
When to be more of ourselves
Can we do it alone?
Or do we need constant support
From people
Book and songs
Do we have to listen to other’s people stories
In order to feel better
Will our fight make more sense when it is experienced by someone else who was been through it all
Someone who will know our story just by looking into our eyes
They will say to us
“I’ve know what you’re going through
And I am gonna help you elevate yourself
You’ll know how to do it the secomd time alone”

If we abondon our own fights
Is it a relief
Or a failure?

Combattre soi-même
Devrait être une des choses les
Plus difficiles à faire
The snows across your broken heart
are the ashes of mine
cremated in the fires of abondon

the cozy embers
behind your gaze
flicker in deaths breath
and Ignite me
with a longing facination
Your snow owl eyes
Hunt mine by the winter moon
Inviting me closer
and closer

I will not look away...
Pallavi  Feb 2019
The Happiness
Pallavi Feb 2019
Happiness is a cloud
When you have it,
It shouts loud.
As white as dew,
As good as few,
So pure & blissful .....
When it comes.
Abondon in pain
When it runs.
My ally, where thou heart had laid on broken glass?
To thee I gave precious memories, blissfulness and unforgiving pleasures.

O' how I begged, I have surrendered to thee for the sparks of beautiful fruits I yearned for to be embedded in me.
With magic in your eyes, you've enchanted me.

My sorcerer, you came with dusty face, torn cloth wrapped around sharpen waist, you defended me.
To you I brought forth my love, placed demented soul in thy hands for thee to heal.

Ravishing, I walked boldly towards you, because my backbone you are. Thou stood firmly as a prayer to my needs in which thou, my ally fulfilled.

The apple of my eyes, the seed planted in my soul, fire that fought within me that only I know of. We were flesh within flesh, the blood that flows through my veins, the crick in my bones where sweet Juices had flown.

You were that aura that gave me peace, breaking me down like a deadly desease. "Ashtor" abondon... But you appeared spiritually directing me.

My sweet ally, where thou heart had laid on broken glasses?
I'll be there, stained on you like a scar.

-Shantel Broderick
To the man who is brave enough to love me in pieces, and make me whole

— The End —