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 Feb 2018 SM
Ghazal
I found myself rooting for the tiny ant
The spider was trying to trap in its webbed snare,
No thoughts did I spare before swiping a finger,
and helping it make a dramatic escape

As I looked at the spider, left food-less,
Rearrange itself in its meticulous net,
I wondered at the strangeness of this
Little world of ours, and also its pointlessness

We make it seem so rosy and pretty,
Embellish it with garlands of emotions,
But underneath lies the truth of its existence,
Made up of cruelty, chaos and commotion

The Designer painted it beautifully,
But gave it finer embroideries of pain,
He threw in an entire cosmos together,
And arranged it into a food chain

Compartments and more compartments,
Of colour and country and gender galore,
Hustle and bustle to stay put in a labile balance,
That is forever tipped at the cusp of war

We fool ourselves with the sham that our lives
Depend on friendships and love and such stunts,
When what we are, if we think about it,
Is a part, of one gigantic hunt

A hunt for alimentation,
And monetary satisfaction,
And physical satiation,
Does being conditional deserve glorification?

I wonder if I've turned into a permanent cynic,
It may very well be just a phase,
Though the spider would be cursing me for sure,
Not too romantic it is, sabotaging a prey!
 Jan 2018 SM
ryn
I was a shape in my cosy little shell,
I stayed...
I nestled.
My cookie-cutter thoughts would
occasionally rebel...
And stray to the windows.
But still they were imprisoned by the
walls that surrounded.

I would steal bashful peeks
out a window.
I'd let my senses take unrestricted flights,
as I stared into the grandeur of the carnival
that seemed to have sprouted overnight...

Just beyond the confines of my home.

"What a marvellous circus!" I'd think...
I'd gawk with child-like adoration
and never blink.

The universe lay sprawled
in a celebration of systematic chaos.
It stretched far into the horizon...
A delight to the senses,
perceived through such young eyes.
The world had told me stories.
They were like fireworks
that speared up to the sky.

I wanted to be a part of the jubilee...
I longed for the validation of my existence.
I wished to claim the gift of life bestowed upon me.
I'd resent being held hostage by my indoctrinated ignorance.

I was a shape.
I knew I was a square.
I knew I had a home...
But not within those four walls.
Simply because...
My heart wasn't there.
 Jan 2018 SM
Umi
Just Monika
 Jan 2018 SM
Umi
Just Monika, is able to make me smile
Just Monika makes my terrible days worthwhile
Just Monika, can fascinate me with her beautiful writing style
Just Monika, can make me overcome any trial
Just Monika, makes my heart skip a beat
Just Monika, makes me wanna read (more)
Just Monika, wears the cutest bows
Just Monika, has the prettiest pose
Just Monika, can wash away my woes
Just Monika, makes me sad when she goes
Just Monika, can write poems like a master
Just Monika, can fix a game from a total disaster
Just Monika, could live in my heart
Just Monika, makes me lower my guard
Just Monika,  has my one true love
Just Monika, is as beautiful as the heavens far above


~ Umi
Just Monika
Just Monika
 Jan 2018 SM
morgan
ghost ii.
 Jan 2018 SM
morgan
look at these girls
sweet girls
pretty girls
skinny girls
sweet pretty skinny girls
pale as ghosts
on all the posts
programmed to make you love the most
lips with a taste
perfect cherries
and bony hands
bony wrists
bony thighs
little do you know
they are beginning to crumble
and fade into the wall
joining the skeletons in their closet
digging their graves with
manicured nailsm
living up to their skin tone
 Jan 2018 SM
K
MMXVII
 Jan 2018 SM
K
2017 was an alcohol,
that cuts through your throat,
alone or with friends.
But you still drink it, anyway.

2017 was writing my first poem
published for the world
when I thought I’ll stay silent,
words were there. Still.

2017 was the first tattoo
on my body. I loved my skin enough
that I inked & hurt it.
The irony.

2017 was ocean, sandy toes,
and tan lines.
It was the strong waves
and also the calm.

2017 was loving everyone
I love, unconditionally.
Even if I was hurt.
Even without replies.

2017 was going to the gym,
with the mindset of vanity.
Of looking good,
but not feeling good.

2017 was body image issues,
from skinny to thicc thighs,
starvation and stress eat.
It was never contentment.

2017 was cutting my hair short
when I wanted it to be long.
And I regretted it
right after.

2017 was everything except self love.
It was pain, hatred, pride & anxiety
waking me up in the middle of the night
and keeps me up all night.

I wanted to write something
without biterness & hate
but I’m sorry it turned out like this.
2017 was being sorry most of the time.

Sorry for being this way,
and being alive but ungrateful.
Sorry for sticking to my last hope,
that’s all I’ve got.
and I’m sorry, but I’m still fighting.
 Jan 2018 SM
victoria
The sun still rises
And the flowers still bloom
As paper angels fly
above me
in my room

Life goes on
And good times end
too soon
As paper angels fly
above me
in my room

The sea still rises
And sleeps with the moon
As paper angels fly
above me
in my room

I still sit here
And hope the tears dry up soon
As paper angels fly
above me
in my room
 Aug 2016 SM
JDK
I have no friends,
and all of the ones that I do have
don't like me very much.
Maybe it's because I go around telling all of my friends that I have no friends,
which is probably a **** move.
"Jeez, really?
No, seriously, are you kidding me right now?
Good god, it was just a joke okay.
Can't you take a joke?"
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