I lift myself up,
pointed on toes
tipping at the edge.
A wind molds to my face.
I'm held there by grace,
as my mind begins to dredge
         Up memories
         of you and me
         seventeen
         blessed with resilience
         none are faded by time
         in feeling
         if not in sight
        some are good
        some are bad
        all are mine



I take a breath
inhale this wind
bowing me back from this cliff.
But I hear waves below.
It's a siren's song so
strong to my ears
as I sniff back tears
          from memories
          sent by this breeze
          so old to me
          of when you would tease
          so I'd unfreeze.
         The only other thing
         that could put me at ease
         is the violent sea
         I stand above now so desperately



And I'm tipping
                tipping
         at the edge
      of my sanity.
  Oh, I'm tipping
                tipping
     on this ledge,
questioning your humanity,
                          as I tip above
                            the oceanity
                    of what could be
                         in front of me.
                     And I'm tipping
                                    tipping
                             at the edge



I take a step back,
release my breath,
settle my heels
into this earth.
Let the wind roll my tears
back towards my ears,
the sound so much quieter than
          these memories
          I hid from me
          to let myself
          relearn how to breathe.
          They swell up again,
          just as wind dies down.
          I grit my teeth,
          say an amen,
          and prepare to drown.



And I'm tipping
                tipping
         at the edge
     of my sanity.
Oh, I'm tipping
               tipping
    on this ledge,
questioning your humanity,
                          as I tip above
                            the oceanity
                    of what could be
                         in front of me.
                     And I'm tipping
                                    tipping
                              at the edge  



                           Air at my face
                       Earth at my feet
                      Seas in my heart
         to drown you out of me
Then I cry oceans away
   with the saltiest tears
  I can taste all my pain
   And my leaving fears
                    Cause you left me
                           and I can't see
                     this edge you left
                           in front of me,



         And you left me tipping
                                       tipping
                          tipping

                                                                  tipped

Any constructive criticism is welcome!
Caster 2d

Buddha doesn't care.
Jesus isn't aware.
Odin can't see.
Zeus is too carefree.
Ra is on his boat.
Amaterasu has a sore throat.
Jove is away.
Lucifer is in a fray.
Anu's not giving a fuck.
Shiva's kinda stuck.
If even the deities left us be,
Why aren't we in a constant glee?
Why do we waste our time on worrying
When we should be hurrying
To find what we truly need.
The thing to sate our greed.
The object of our full attention.
The item to end our asscencion.
The one and only
Love that would make us no longer lonely.

Aleeza 3d

abandoned flower fields and the lazy afternoon sun
our footsteps falling into a steady rhythm
we are almost like music in this place of lost
and neither of us seem to remember

my fingers touch the edges of your hand
trying to establish a connection that I have long craved
and normally it is not okay
but this time you let mine fit in the spaces between yours

we find a place of solace and dry grass
you are a mere inches away but I am still afraid
still afraid of what this is
still unsure of what it may be

we’re both a little tipsy, I must admit
you lie down on the ground and count the grooves in my spine
and I try to think of something to say
but  all my years of words have failed me now

is it okay?
are we really okay?
because it has been a while
and a lot of things have changed
but I still don’t know if we are right

all they have said is that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be
this isn’t how things line up in their world
but we have a world of our own
and I would give anything to be entangled in it

this is the only time we can really escape
from the stares that will judge who we are
from the expectations that we never plan to meet
this is the only time that I can belong to you.

Smoke as elegant as a woman
Dancing around you so gracefully,
But not for long
The blink of an eye and she's gone
Dissipating into the dark gloom
But like all of them, there will be more,
All the same
Dancing around you
But not for long

-AJT

i want you to get tired
tired enough to leave me
so that i'll know
that all the people
in my life
left for a reason
that way i'll understand
how i became like this
so lonely
so broken
so afraid of love and trust
as if it'll burn me
and maybe
you'll prove me right
that i was never enough
to make people stay.

but still i hope,
you'd be the one
to prove me wrong.

will she prove me wrong?
She Writes Nov 10

I am so sorry
I’m sorry someone loved you badly
I’m sorry someone made you feel
Worthless, alone, and abandoned

I’m sorry someone made you feel
Like a waste of space
Unworthy of time
Unworthy of attention

I’m sorry someone made you feel
Expendable, ugly, and weak
I’m sorry someone made you feel
Afraid to love again

But tell me this
How is it justified
In your twisted mind
To do the same to me?

t.e.

the Nov 9

a night of impassive atrocity
a sway of tremulous convulsions
shattered like puzzles of thoughts
fastened to endless torture...

...from close relatives

abandoned, wallowed in woes from insolvent soul
it prints a shallow outlook to upcoming world
however, once vexed, it retains a pleasant look
young damsel fathoms the compassionate side of her

it reflects the true light, the true meaning
after those mournful years of adolescence
a gleeful smile of yet innerly broken girl
howbeit shiny her attitude ought to be

Shay Moore Nov 7

The Days turn to weeks
And the weeks become months
My calls are less frequent
As you never pick up
A waste of my time
A waste of my breath
I never get answers
You heartless cold wench

this is for my best friend who doesn't know how to answer a phone XD
kate Oct 27

i keep having this dream
where i'm standing
next to an abandoned building
and the people passing by
can't tell the difference.

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