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jee Feb 1
I am paradoxical;
an oxymoronic anomaly.

all my nightmares are made
of daylight,
but I’ll still sleep to escape
the darkness.

I am paradoxical;
an absurd abnormality.

it’s a chaotic peace,
loud with it’s bated breath
and bittersweet ring.

I am paradoxical;
an irregular oddity.

my counterparts are contradictory,
and I change to chance
the possibility
that opposites attract.

and we’re all just paradoxed;
argumentative attractions.

there’s no stopping at the end,
when the sun is low
in the soft red sky.

where my nightmares are made
of daylight,
but I’ll still sleep to escape
the darkness.
this statement is a lie.
Poolza Jan 15
Happy are those who are normal
Those who dance to to sound of weeping

Happy are those who are normal
They dine on the rosey red remains

Happy are those who are normal
Those who lack guilt and remorse

Maybe my normal is different
Idk
Bartholomew Oct 2018
I’m supposed to be strong for everyone including you. But whose supposed to be strong for me?
Guess I don’t need anyone’s help.
I cry but incognito, can’t allow anyone to see these tears.
I’ll wipe them away myself.

Push it to the back of my mind, all the way in the rear.
I’m afraid to share my emotions so I numb it all away, cage my depression, bury my fears.

Can’t trust anyone cuz one day they’ll be gone, they leave as they usually do, I tell myself I can’t be mad.
So sometimes I leave them before they leave me, Every man for himself right? I learned that from my dad.

My biological..... wherever he is in this reality
I’m on my own. A solitary mentality

The abnormal normality
Louisa Coller Jun 2018
abnormal in thought, perfect in action
    2. people both love me and hate me
    3. I come in all shapes and sizes
    4. I’m kind of like one, but not the other
    5. Sometimes you try to see me.

Do you know what I am?
Different.
When finishing my art course, I saw some options, stay in my home town with my family and either work or take a new course or move away to pursue something else.

I realistically didn’t want to go to a big university. I feel I need someone’s guidance a little more when learning and in a room with over 500 different students all trying to do the same, it becomes difficult. So I stayed and was offered to join a Digital Film Production course. I loved the idea! I love art, music, I genuinely adored animation too, so I thought why not dust off film and give it a shot?

I didn’t actually initately like film when I considered enrolling, which leads to people to most likely scream ‘Why did you take this risk then?’, because I wanted to. I wanted to learn about it, even if I originally didn’t care. I wanted to learn something different.

When arriving at my course, I made friends with some unique characters. Some different to many others I’ve ever met before. It was a relief.

People often try too hard to either be different or fit in. It’s really not worth the time. It’s best to be who you want to be in reality and for me, it was tough to get a grip of that initately until I met these people.

They showed me that what we like, shapes us. We become what we adore, hate, fear etc. We’re all pretty unique, but in being unique itself, makes us the same. So when we define what is ‘different’ to what is ‘normal’, what do we say?

The only time someone seems different to you is because of the following:
    • They are mentally different
    • They are physically different
    • They liked things you originally would have liked, not liked or don’t know of.
...and a lot more at that!

It’s a really complicated topic to think about.
I think in reality, it’s just better to not lie about what makes you unique. Find things you like yourself, express how much you like those things or want to do those things! Imitating isn’t always bad, since imitation is what teaches us a lot of things in life but never feel afraid to add your own extra spice of individuality to what you do.

So this poem I was looking into the idea of following the structure of a Riddle, I didn’t originally intend for the numbered parts of the poem, but I thought the list structure added to it.
Tanya Louise Apr 2018
9:12PM

the questionable truth
will always hunt you down
fill my lungs
in pressured parts

note the love
oh ****** parts
ponder the affection
creeping up on me

foolish lungs
they fail me
the touch to fear
too much my dear

my scream will be heard
drowned in silence
we will be feared
not knowing the tear

i laugh and laugh
wishing in your parts
we'll delve in the stars
my lover, my wonder
hello fellow wanderers of HP...
KM Hanslik Apr 2018
You dream of the sun when
your words begin to miss their mark, when
you haven't seen the flaws of your actions until
it's too late,
when the tentative what ifs are swallowed by the looming presence of no.
You begin to dream of the sun when you spill
yourself into another and the other
devours you whole and leaves you
empty.
You begin to notice changes in
the lack of color in your skin or
the way your ribs feel a little sharper under your fingers, but
change is natural, you tell yourself
and try to forget the fuzzy things
in the corners of your mind that tell you
stop, because
what do voices know?
You drum your fingers along the edge of who am I, turn the phrase over in your hands and try
to forget the answer
as you dream of the sun and being
swallowed by it,
warm.
Luna Mar 2018
Paranormality
she sought
in her eyes, you could see the contradictory lights
flicking off and on
an epic tale
of color war, she was.
the sun and the black hole merged
a trail of overflowing fountain left behind
was it the light in her that tried to banish the dark,
or the dark in her suffocating the light?
the grey always kept her at bay
leading her astray
so how does reality suit for her?
a melancholic sway between right and wrong was her act.
Frenetic.
She was never on a railroad,
so how did she derail?
ashley lingy Jan 2018
She stands alone in a snowstorm.
Hours ago, the people of her town ran for cover,
but this is a woman who defies the norm.
She follows a feeling, the desire to discover.

The snow is vicious and swarms,
swirling around and above her.
Her hair lifts and spirals in free form.
Her arms rise; in the howling wind they hover.
Fear is absent, she feels only power.
Trevor Dowe Jan 2018
I have secrets and lies I tell even myself
I strive to appear normal
For I am ashamed of my deviances
I resent that what I like could get me labeled a freak


Our limbs entwined as we  cuddle and kiss
The clothes we wore strewn across several rooms
The heat radiating between us
My secrets burning a hole in my heart


But how can you know that I want more and I'm ashamed of those cravings
I haven't told you, I am afraid of being judged, abandoned, and mocked
How can I trust with how many times I've been burned before, I'm paranoid


Would you step out of your comfort zone for me
Would you stick by me, or would you be angry or disgusted or unsympathetic to my desires
I know I'm different, but I lie to myself to keep up appearances
Frank Sherwood Nov 2017
Dementia, deja vu
It happened to me,
It could happen to you.

Bed sheets rake flesh,
High grade sand paper,
Blades dull and rust,
As if I held my breaking heart.

Whenever, wherever,
Brain signals fire, nothing is true
Walls close in, pain takes hold,
Insanity becomes the typical mold

Why can't I respect the flow?

So they say, just apart of the waves.

I wonder why I can never just chill out.
Insane in the membrane, never normal, overbearing.
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