In the beginning,
I wandered through a thick sunflower field.
Each passing day I grew closer and closer to the edge.
The way I started my descent,
I sat with my legs off the cliff,
Swinging them back and forth.
I inched down,
But was suddenly pushed because my heart broke.
Then coaxed by others hanging,
And well,
My curiosity led me on.

Now I have both hands on the cliff.
When I glance down,
My eyes widen.
I can't see anything,
It's pitch black with uncertainty,
A chilly breeze flows by.
Well that's a lie,
I can see a faint light,
But it's dim,
And a part of me wants to let go,
To fall,
My stomach does flips and tricks,
As I contemplate.
There's an excitement to it,
And curiosity again creeps up in my mind.
Accompanying the obscurity below,
The scent of tobacco and alcohol makes me scrunch up my nose.

I decide to gaze up,
I can hear laughter,
And light hearted banter.
The tantalizing smell of sugary candy,
Pleases me more.
The sky is pure baby blue,
No puffy cotton candy clouds,
And the sunshine warms the field.
Giant sunflowers sways back and forth,
Their golden color almost matching the brilliant sun.
Mindless daydreams appear,
And the notion of fairy tale love,
Causes my heart to swell,
I start to pull myself back up...

And I slip,
Beginning to fall backwards.
I scream.
Clawing at the side of the cliff,
My hands grab onto a small ledge and again I am hanging,
My legs dangling,
I'm a child on the monkey bars.
Wait no,
I am not a child.
I don't feel like letting go just yet.
Why do I always try to traverse back up,
When every single time I’ve ended up farther down than before?
I don’t know.
I manage to rest myself on a small ledge.

Then as I’m speculating,
My eyes notice a small flower,
Growing on the vines that covered parts of the cliff,
Its petals surrounding itself.
Its color was white,
Clean like paper,
Resembling airy snow.
I reach out to touch it,
But retract my hand,
It was the only other flower I had seen,
I was only familiar with the sunflowers,
But this one...
It wasn't blooming.
I extend my arm,
But I move the tiny flower away from what little sunlight reaches it,
And now complete darkness surrounds it,
As I hid it in a crevice.

I am not alone in this.
I know that much.
I can hear others shouting,
And falling.
Even if there is no sound,
I know there's always someone falling.
Some manage to climb up,
But never back onto the sunflower field.
They at least prolong their trip downwards,
Hugging the cliff even more.

Some don't even look before they disappear.
They step out of the field,
Then leap,
And dive right down,
As if they were young Icarus flying too close to the sun.
No matter what,
You always go down.

As I cling to the cliff,
The bright star above completes its journey for the day,
And is replaced with its ominous counterpart.
I stroke the closed petals of the white flower,
Knowing what usually comes next,
The night brings more to fall,
But as I tenderly pull the white flower from the crack,
The moon light greets it,
And soon it's petals begin to spread,
It reveals a dot of yellow,
Surrounding a circle of ghostly white.
A sense of comfort fills me,
Watching this long moment occur.
Darkness could transform things,
To become something beautiful.

My thoughts turn into questions as the night continues,
As I wonder what it'll be like when I fall.
What will it be like when I reach the bottom?
What is that light?
Will there be more white flowers?

But all in all,
This is not the end,
Far from it,
I know.
I'm waiting for my turn,
To finally let go and fall from grace.
But while I wait,
I’ll keep enjoying the sights above,
While pondering my coming life below.

This was my entry for Reflections 2016: What's your story?
danny 2d

Waves crash against the shore,
Bronzed Goddess laid bare,
I know you're looking,
I never care.

I feel your shadow
on my skin,
"Yes you can oil my back"
Lean forward, begin.

Coarse hands at work
Warm hands for play,
Looking forward to the splash
You can swim in my bay.

Lying beside me
Tilt my shades to view,
Your buoy propping up,
'Bout time you grew.

Taken in your arms,
greasy protection from the rays,
Secluded beach,
Sand for days and days.

Storming my own sand castle,
no need for a bucket,
my merman on the towel,
"Here's my clam, now fuck it."

Matching the motion of the ocean,
Sand angel underneath,
they can hear my moans,
from the lighthouse to the deep.

All over tan,
no visible line,
Claim your salty liquid
as mine all mine,

Nature the best place to cum
I think as I grown,
You're wet from your swim,
Could never get this wet playing on my own.

Lyla while sunbathing at the beach, fucks a stranger
Madi 4d

my days are numbered
in hindsight we see that our ends are fated
but my clock looms in front of my face while yours dangles off in the distance
you do not see death up close as i do
you do not see the haze that surrounds our existence
you only see sunshine
an overcast day or two in the grand scope
but all i see is darkness
with light tickling at its edges
my days are numbered
as are yours
but my clock ticks and ticks and ticks
while you do not know it exists
oh how blissful that blindness must be

i have depression, one of my three kidneys works & is keeping me alive bc the other two suck at their job, i have blood clots, & my mom died! i was sick for a long time and i'm only 19, so this poem just touches on how carefree everyone else is while I have anxiety all the time.
Cné 4d

Let me mold my body along your curves; trickle yourself into my entire being

Vulnerable, nude, my heart exposed, palpably we connect across the starry sky; you ... within me

I want your intimacy to linger along the edges of my lips hours after you've gone

I ache to be consumed by your eyes, intense with emotions, long after the dawn

Take me to your intimate chambers where hearts race; the rhythm of our silhouettes melded on satin sheets

Leisurely feel your way; a slow descend along the avenue of my rhythmic swell; forgive me of my quivering wanton needs

Allow me to graze at the gates of your femininity, drinking the honey from your pink walls; to feel your crowning point between my lips

How can I resist those wandering lips that stirs the curtains of my garden alcove; perfectly painted in honey dew, I throb for the touch of your kiss

Drape your thighs upon my shoulders; let the waves of satisfaction cascade up your spine

I beg to be released, dear God, of this intoxicating spell; I submit myself, heart laid bare; oceans of emotions no longer can I hide.

Find your eyes locking with mine; my torso parallels yours, my body pressed to you; equal in ferocity and tenderness

Mesmerize by your burning eyes in our melting flesh, so strong your hold; yet so tender your caress

Utter our names in fiery moans both whispered and screamed in heated breaths on our solitary night

Vile obscenities float out on heated breath, as cool air kiss our molded skin on the evening our time takes flight

Take me to your heart & cast away the flesh; allow our souls to weave in the throes of passion as our bodies mix into one; slow-motion ecstasy

A longing deep inside, the locked chambers of my soul to exotic places beyond our imaginationsyou sneak into my heart to fulfill my every fantasy 

Feed me the lullabies you paint on your canvas; orgiastic symphony we conduct in cascading tides; trembles throughout our bodies when our fluids mix

Let me paint upon your heart a ballet of our duet; the crescendo palette of my tide drown you in the spirit of our lyrics

Your ripe fruit quivers tenderly while our union completes; take my hands and let me be yours

Hold my sated body that tremors from the wake; a union of our souls ensnare a bond secure

A Collaboration with Jack Jenkins.
J Valle Sep 13

I'm stumbling like a toddler in a room.
My hands are on my sides plane-like in the air
trying to give me some balance, to keep me from falling.
My feet hurt and are clumsy, they're not used to this.
I'm using my father's shoes.

I'm wearing them to feel like an adult,
like one of those old humans who go and live an adult life,
but my father's shoes are too big for my baby feet,
no matter how hard I try, they just don't fit.

But I keep doing it.
I'm not alone in this room,
There's no way I would be doing this just for myself,
maybe at the beginning, when it was fun.
My family is staring at me.

They are all expectators.
Of this crazy show I'm directing,
Half thinking I'm cute for pretending to be one of them.
The other half's just waiting for the moment I trip and start crying.

My father's shoes are too big for me,
This adult mockery is not for me,
Just as I realize about this.

I trip.

Corine Rose Sep 12

You & I,
Awkward friends at first.
Looking back,
You & I have grown beautifully.
I am proud of you.
I miss you.

Mi chica, mi mejor amiga.
Todas de nuestras vidas,
Hemos separadas.

I am forever proud of you.
I forever miss you.
I see pictures, and you have not changed.
Mira a tu pelo, eso es la chica que yo sé.

My old friend,
I miss you; I'm so fucking proud of you.
Ójala que el amor entre nosotros no haya cambiado.
Mi angelita,
You have and continue to inspire me.

I am the only Spanish-speaker in my family. And she is the reason why I can speak this beautiful language.
Poetic T Sep 9

When I was younger an infant of
the illusions of the world, my mum,
"She was a lost sheep trying to find a herd,
Church was my Sunday destination.

Drinking and eating though it was the
blood of a fallen man, people in lines!
Like waiting to pay for something,
its the UK we line up for everything.

"if there isn't a line don't trust it,

I used to pray little hands clasped together,
but then mummy and daddy argued..
so very loud, I prayed for silence
but  anger travels, voices echoing in vacant halls.

I asked on Sundays "why doesn't god help,
"Why doesn't god breath,
"Who created God,
"Why does he not hear my pain,
"Why doesn't he just stop the devil,

"Free will of man he gave,
"Because he is everywhere, he is the breath of the universe,
"God has no creator, for god created everything,
"He hears everything, that all speak,

My mind thought on these answers, even though
young my mind collectively I was thinking,
"why does he help others yet not me,
if free will is ours then isn't he violating it
by helping the few and not the many so we
have no free will at all??

Sunday came around, and I had questions to
ask my mother was cool
"A mind is a journey, and thoughts are our footsteps,
My mum was deep, and also loving and silly..
I walked in a now not seeing this place as before.

Eating the bread disc it just felt stale in my mouth.
Songs were sung and the plate was passed around,
those with little gave much "Later I would understand,
Then I walked up to the priest, nervous of my questions.

Sir, I thought of the words on answers I asked.
My question like water flowing out my mouth...
I told him of my confusion at his answers that I
had thought long and hard on..

Everything has a creator
God created everything
God doesn't have a creator

Doesn't make sense the last cant happen
without the first, then I continued...

"God gave free will, our path is his chosen
he knows our life upon our creation,

"But then why does he help others?
Or so they say, isn't he breaking that pattern
on non interference, or is the reality that nothing
Is answered its happenstance, our will is our own.

"If he hears everything, sees all, would that not
make him non omnipotent as he could stop the
playing of the devils tongue, as he lets children
die at cruel hands, sees those  kill innocence but
just watches like its pay per-view.

"Wouldn't an omnipotent being have the power to seal the devils fate, but if not in choosing is he no better than the one he warns others about?

The gentlemen just stood there and had to
think on my questions, and his answered
sealed the position I stand on now
                                  "God has a plan for every one,
I knew then as a child that this was just a herd
of sheep gathering in a waterhole of falsehoods.

My mother excepted my stance, for her she
had a needing for something more than herself.
But life is the something more, to attend to yourself,
friends those around you helping strangers when
the need is needed.

I wasn't only going to be good for what a book said,
Fearful that some are only that way, not because of humanity,
but the fear of spoken words that they'll go to a fiery place.
My mother was cool, an open book of thought, she delved
into a few religions, spiritual gain.. she past a while ago...

The proof of my thoughts confuse some, I say that those
stories as a child didn't hold water, but we all grew out
of the tooth fairy, Santa. but still believe a story that holds
great contradictions, from a time long ago not suitable to this
day and age. I see the world and see more shedding the covering
of there eyes.

Were growing up, leaving our cradle of ignorance and
superstitions behind. I look up at the night sky, never
thanking some abandoned father.. But just looking at
the universe realizing I'm just a spec of dust in the motion
that are happening around and above. I glad I'm still here,
but that could change at any moment. Then I'd just be
a memory on others thoughts, just hopeful that  I made
a little ripple to make others lives, my children's, my wife,
my friends better, worthy of the time I was around ..

I`ve been an atheist since I was 7-8ish my mum was cool with it, but I found I had grown up from childhood insecurities, even though not of my childhood, I read the bible a few time now faded the stories hold no waters on my thoughts as they make no reality based sense. I noticed that most religions are just the rewording of those that turned to myth just changing forgotten knowledge, verse, for a new time, but also outdated thoughts as were growing past this need for needing, were looking up at the sky seeing more and more.
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