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Amanda Jean  Oct 2016
Tell me
Amanda Jean Oct 2016
I used to know things about people, it was all too easy for me to figure them out.

I used to dread the day when I had found out I've failed, when I couldn't save someone. Strange or depressing as it may seem, I'm glad I haven't had to attend all the funerals I tried to prepare myself for.

I used to know if someone had ever been touched wrongly. Unwillingly. How far past their "no's" were gotten. I can't do that anymore, I don't know how to help anymore.

I used to cry at all the pain, I used to sob myself to sleep. These days I try anything just to feel a single tear on my cheek.

I used to hear things without finding or ever questioning the source. I used to sing out my struggles to the sounds I heard while crying on my backyard's swing set. I still hear it sometimes, but maybe that's just my imagination.

My mom told me I used to see angels.  All I can remember was being scared of the footprints on my ceiling. Maybe they were angels, maybe they were demons. Maybe they were just early signs of schizophrenia.

Was all of that just preparation?
Was it all just a coincidence?
Is this real? Is it God's work? Is it fate?
Do I believe in any of that anymore???

Who knew that a conversation over cigarettes with you would leave me so confused.

Is our craziness compatible, like taking a drug together and having the same trip?
Or maybe we're gifted with seeing things for how they really are.

Or maybe its just you.
Maybe I'm lost forever.

I need to walk your path.

I heard sounds in the woods with you
But was it the same music?
Do we share the same insanity?

Tell me if its a blessing or a curse.
Tell me if its worth all the pain.
Tell me if I can handle it... if I won't **** myself first.
Does the light in everything outweigh the darkness?  
Tell me what you think about souls now.
Does everything live forever?
Can you still see their light if they're dead?
Tell me what you feel.
Tell me what you know now.
I want your truths.

This has to be real.

My world has been flipped and turned inside out.

But finally, for once, I think everything makes sense.
Dark Fjord Dec 2016
the , is a weak glass . in your life sentence
and eyes color purplexed and cool, neblastick
colours me, inslides these lines, commands my presents.

gems are cold
like ice in the eye rolling them stones
throne, to the hallways, I go with pennies.
cheap change
Michael Marchese Jul 2018
Don’t tell me it can’t all be equally shared
Don’t tell me elections are fair
Anywhere
I know whose had the power
The weapons to prove it
The world in their hands
And the money to move it
Perpetual profit
New product to cell
Dwellin’ deep in the pocket
Of your lol

So don’t tell me with Twitter you’re not all Obsessed
When you buy every lie presidential address
Comin’ hot off the press
Not so free to inform
A pornhub tuggin’ ******
Publicity Storm
And another blackout
On my people uncovered
Like Firestone burnin’ through natives
Unrubbered

Don’t tell me you don’t have the cure
Or that war
Isn’t waged on the people
To sheeple the poor
To the industry slaughterhouse
Dream factory
Where success is a breath of fresh
Debt peony
I know slavery still puts
That food on the table
And big pharma FDA puppets, the label

So don’t tell me dope is what’s making us Dumb
Don’t tell me my God’s not the LSD sun
Or that guns aren’t hired
To desecrate my
Sanctified inner peace
Keepin’ graffiti sky
For my ties to this earth
Are invaluable worth
So don’t tell me my rights haven’t been mine Since birth
Shofi Ahmed  Jun 2018
Love
Shofi Ahmed Jun 2018
What can the words
tell of love?
Until it's found
heart to heart.
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