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  Aug 2019 Silverflame
Hannah
I don't believe in soul mates
What I do believe in
Is people that connect
On some deeper level
Immediately upon acquaintance
And not meaning you agree
On where to eat for dinner
But the connection where your heart
Seems to slip out
Of your rib cage
Because it's found a home
Outside of your chest.
  Aug 2019 Silverflame
Danielle
You're my favorite kind of thief,
stealing my heart,
but letting me be.
  Aug 2019 Silverflame
WL Schuett
She is a hive full of
Sweetness.
But , never far from
the sting .

“I see you “ she smiles
as she touches my face .

Upstairs she lies
with coverlets and curtains.

I am searching
and searching.
But , for what
I’m not sure .

Maybe diamonds
but probably
Fireflies and Lace .

Working towards not
losing my shadow.

My inertia’s held
prisoner
to her beauty
my moral vision
called and questioned.
The death of leaves ,
stranded on the high wire
in the back of beyond.
I want to write my own story
But sadly I only hold a poet's pen
Not the pen of destiny
  Aug 2019 Silverflame
Atticus
I am spiralling down a dark well
mortar and stone grazing my knuckles and fingers
in their desperate plea to find a crack
a divet
anything to stop the spiral
but I continue to fall
black upon black
grey upon grey
deeper and deeper
the water is at my ankles
sinking
sinking
sinking now
into putrid sludge of what I do not want to remember
swept into the dark ocean cave
of my mind
Silverflame Aug 2019
I submerge myself
in sadness
drenched to my core
I paddle through
heartache and
melancholic waves
unaware of the
lurking tsunami
spawned by
everlasting
thoughts of you
  Aug 2019 Silverflame
winter child
In case no one gets it,
i collect my excerpts
better
than i spell my prayer.
Spills my personal feelings
and trouble,
longer than i bow
on my knees.

i memorize every shame
and quote it
in a piece of paper,
the same stroke
they did to break
my bones.
Marks down
every of their tone
when i got yelled at,
being degraded.

In case no one gets it,
i use my fingertips to fight.
Being sure of my words,
but never myself.

They can take off my guts,
break down my sanity
into pieces of insecurity.
Yet i’m here to remain bold
until the last spill of ink,
and my pen
can no longer stand.
the battle is in my head

(w.c)
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