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Good morning, Starshine

You're a gift to this world
I admire your generosity for others
Sharing freely from your heart

Your character inspires me
I recognize the resolve in your values
Challenging me to grow

Your spirit calls me
I thirst to know all of your secrets
Both broken and healed

Your energy moves me
I crave your touch
Addicted to the electricity it gives

Your soul sees me
I'm intoxicated by your words
Dismantling my armor

You're a beautiful creature
I'm thankful to intersect your path
Hopeful we can walk awhile
Angela Jan 31
She believed herself a solid boulder
though as soon as he would hold her,
the safety of his gentle touch
was home she couldn't help but clutch.
She'd dissolve to quicksand at his feet
and blow away as he began to sink.

She loathed her spirit made of dust,
trapped in a mind devoid of trust,
but every time she thought of him
she'd gain the strength to build again.
to show this unsuspecting knight
his kiss had sparked her back to life.
Ever notice how you fall apart as soon as the walls come down? Sometimes the person gets caught up in what you've been holding back, but their commitment is worth the self-repair.
starstrike Dec 2020
He called her
And her heart melted
Like iron in a forge
His to be melded
And held
Close to his person
His secret weapon
Shagun Aug 2020
It was a curve I was traversing
All the while I kept on cursing.
On the way to be someone they would love
Ignoring the grey clouds above.
In an instant the bubble popped
My armor dropped.
I had poured my heart out
But they still thought I was screaming loud.
I couldn’t hear my voice
Because it got subdued in the noise.
There I stood alone
Heard a crack in my bone.
I thought I was crumbling
But I turned around and started running
It was a curve I was traversing
It did not seem new
They used to fake-sing my praises
Now they talk about me in closed rooms.
I saw the sky turning blue.
They didn’t believe me then
They don’t believe me now
I reinvented myself
But still it wasn’t enough somehow.
This poem is inspired a personal experience of being in a toxic friend circle. The curve symbolizes the tricky ***** of a toxic friendship. The story is how we, as people, sometimes forget ourselves to be someone our friends would love and how we do anything to fit in. But the reality is far from it. They still backstab you, they still make that friendship suffocating. In the end the only way to save yourself is to get back on your feet and walk away. But never forget that they will still not find it enough.
Paul Idiaghe Aug 2020
To peel off your soft skin, mold it
into armor, let the blood gush out
until it fills your cup, and you gulp it in
as medicine; to pluck out your silenced
tongue, watch it slither across blank
pages, as it paints them scarlet-sweet
like your heart; to **** the trauma, bury it
under words, but make it immortal
on the same paper.
Ileana Amara Aug 2020
the daggers pierced through,
when i thought i had an armor on;
i barely felt the stinging pain,
i barely bled before my eyes,

i carried on until i looked at the mirror;
i forgot how the sharp tip should have felt,
it pierced through my own flesh, armor-less.

CC Jul 2020
Truly I have the will inside me
To push my chest out and bare my dignity
Like a thumping paw of an elephant
The sound of who I am beats the ground
Every thump like a chanting
Every chant like a battle-cry
Break their bones if they strike you
Their throws are soft and formless
A fog that poisons
You are protected by the bear in the woods
A massive presence of teeth and claw
Bear in mind
Conquering the battle is not complete without armour and sword
Use your sword with caution
Sparing them for when the season is ripe
Struck whence the shield lowered
You seek for bleeding
You seek for victory
Joy is in the skin scarred without fright
Victory is in the timing of each strike
The sword has discipline in its swift blow
Should not have trace of megalomania
Should win every ****** in order to teach
Lessons to heed the definition of honour
Two victors will defy the battle
When one wins on honour
If the other triumphs pride
Kyle Jul 2020
We use makeup and clothes as an armor.
We use makeup to cover our scars;
We dress up to look confident and strong.
We use it differently;
Some used it to make themselves more beautiful;
Some used it to protect themselves from getting bullied, mock and etc.
Not just by using makeup and clothes as an armor,
But we should also use who we truly are as an armor.
Never forget about your true selves just because you use makeup and clothes as an armor,
But we should also embrace and love ourselves for who we truly are.
Covering up scars and dressing up to look confident and strong is just a quality of our armor ;
But what we really have as an armor is ourselves.
Love and embrace yourself
Hermes Varini Jul 2020
Once across a Caledonia dreary, whose Echo,
Amid the Jötnar, was MAN, I wandered hurt and weary,
Until yon Glare, with deadly Rage flaming,
Lo! I beheld, next to the Iron Gates
Of a long-forgotten Ruin named still
After incorruptible Titanium.

A noble, finely engraved feudal Vest,
Under a Luminary invisible, implacable,
Shone thither with a Glare fiercer, methought,
Than that of the rubies at warlike Valhalla,
Amid Walls time-eaten, kingly Banners, and proud Towers,
And dwelt there in melting Titanium.

Deep memories of martial Woe
Like an arrow piercing my *****, and aimed
Thro' the Night with lethal Glare,
No barrier was there to be found
Between my Past yielding and this conquering Robe
With Runes marked deep in Titanium.

Thus I remembered having once graved,
In revered silence and solitary anger,
Into the Glare, within the Hills, upon the Dust,
The Emblem of the OVERMAN,
Which thou may again now see gleaming,
With pride Superhuman, o'er this garb of Titanium.

My Enemy Wraith haunting me no more,
Into a most profane dying hour,
I walked forth, to wear of the Armour of the Glare the worth,
And felt, intensely, from the Zenith of a most fiery Heaven,
The Rays from the Stars imbuing my Very Gore
With blinding, rageful Titanium.

Hereupon, with Cuirass thus worn, I bethought me of boldly ascending,
With heavy Claymore drawn, in a Guard of the Hawk,
At Ultima Thule, of the Bluish Glare, the Hidden Rock,
And at its scorching Crest, with Blade o'er me flashing, widened my gathering Breast,
The Largest Mirror, the Highest Beacon, aye,
Before the wild Blaze molten down in Titanium.
Of this narrative-philosophical poem of mine, as focusing on the dichotomy between man and the antithetical Overman, a semiotic variant exists. The narrator meets at length with a surpassing mirroring force.
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