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Tyler Matthew Oct 2019
Peering intensively through fog-marked mullioned glass
into a cool and conquering October sunrise
I am met with a profound and welcoming sudden awareness -
zephyrs breathing through each emerald green grass blade,
     brow of country hilltops, mountains materializing
with the passing of each era like wrinkles in a face,
clouds crawling the longitudes to reform over Pacific pools somewhere,
soil forcing upward making way for elm or oak or pine to tower,
rivers thundering wild down the backs of continents,
     cliff or crag breaking the maelstrom on occasion,
and all the while spinning, all of this and more, clinging to the frame of the earth
as it dances balanced on axis, pirouetting through the cosmos
in turbulent, beautiful, simply complex form just as I
back away from the window and extend an arm to brace myself.
Scarlet M Oct 2019
a ridiculed soul deemed
worthless
trapped by society's
undefeated cruelty
vile memory repressed
still lingers in his throat
the tittering grows
louder
as his laughter echoes
uncontrollably, resentful
and frightened
desiring only but one
semblance of normality
but humanity has
crumbled
how could this world
be so ruthless to someone
who they have denied
to Youー
a man born from chaos
Death is not pretty.
Death is not brave,
Death is not freedom
Or grace
Or clarity
Or glorious.
Death is lonely,
Undignified,  
And vastly disappointing.
I do not recommend you try it.
Sleepless in foetal slumber
Eyes closed yet wide and irredescent to your indescrections
The dark lays like a veil underneath your rough hands
As they inappropriately trace my delicate infants body
I do not move
I cannot out of fear of what you’d do if I dared to
but I should think myself lucky really
you spared me from the full extent of what your evil could have done
but still I can still feel the weight of your hands like a tonne of bricks pushing down on me
now ,can’t let anyone too close .
what you did comes like back in
blows to my psyche
Anon Oct 2019
Every night,
Tears fill my eyes.
I don’t want to fight
And I can’t continue these lies!

My mind goes numb
And the damage is done.
I lift the gun
Then I see the sun.
Lovers come to taste me
I couldn't let him go  
Naive bruises that I caused
Laying my head down to sleep
I feel my skin breaking
Could we still make love?
I questioned this inside my head
Like an wounded  bird I lay still
I wanted it to all be true
A change for me and you
Reading the newspaper over coffee
When a difference of opinion was just simply that  
You wanted me to love you
It was simple then
No control you left me safely in the nest
John R Pettigrew Oct 2019
On the surface I look happy and glad
Truth be told you cannot see my scars
This world is an ocean, as I look upon with a frown
Mentally I feel like I am due to drown
Overthinking it all surely I am due to sink
I have had my ******* fill and I am really on the brink
But **** that I am gonna have to swim and fight
Just to keep my head above the water
All that stand in my way I will have to slaughter
I am swimming against the tide
All that is keeping me going is my heart filled with pride
All along you thought I was trying to prove you wrong
You are all irrelevant but only for a line in my song
The only reason I am ready to fight
Is to prove to the world that I was always ******* right
Simon Oct 2019
Emotions have cracks in them. Totally in dependable when reacting to flaws uncertain for regular eyes to see. Cracks hide you see. Maneuvering between rough outlines of outskirts that cut awareness too short. A fishing line snagged a sudden position that wasn’t its destination. Prize was a few paces all around you. Surrounding your visage. Clearly don’t seem to notice. Warping every visual that can’t be in reach. Not the outer boundaries fault. It’s yours! Your impatient. Selfish! Impenetrable to experiences outside yourself. Cracks becoming mere targets to your undoing. Something still convincing you is all but diminished. Obvious signs one isn’t aware of what is outside themselves. The rough outlines become more edgy. Rigid! Complacent among desires without conquest. Never being a deed well nourished for choice and claim. Reasons are faltered. Balance is futile! No constraints steady enough to admit which is to blame. Or which one succeeding this entire time. Isn’t obvious, because it’s logical. A well-oiled machine fueled by cracks making decisions. Cringing in glory! Never an upset to potential. Cracked emotions offering more pendence to a variety without notions. Options shooting up on selfish highs! Opinionating one flaw to open one crack. Releasing the selfish highs those emotions needed. They get off on it. It’s their coping mechanism. Keeps them feeling soft on there toes. Grounded to a halt! Fixating a claim without remorse. Opinionating another flaw to act without self decency. Decency sinking too low for one to hoist back up to the clearing. Another crack starts to open without force. One being stretched far as one’s awareness is outlining the real issue. Structuring the inside like the outside. Rough outlines can’t pass short for outskirts never crowding enough issues to what is performing inside. Reality becomes toxic! Which is which? What is why? Why never having a claim. It’s already too late to fasten the logical seat belts. Rough outlines cracking up on the seams. Everything becomes distorted. Showing multiple fractions of law and order switching places with different cracks. Opinions urge the inside to act. Creating more cracks! Never outlasting the stretched-out limits leaking foreign material across developments. Developments offering solutions to. Crisscrossing the maneuverability of emotions raging with claim! Selfish highs breaking records from deep inside crusted depths. Environmental concerns aren’t operable. Being pulled into the cracks with joy. Becoming more of the collection that’s always dry to a crisp. Pulling a snagged cause further into the unknown depths. Producing a balancing act. Being kind without focus. Determination of instinct displacing emotions without cracks. Cracks never influencing you to the cause all together. You’re in luck. Having an anchor sinking into the rigid depths. Decisions start negotiating a little splice of different grins. Never noticeable for suspicion. Keeping it inside there inner circle. Pleading all works for the desire of knowledgeable surfaces. Surfaces now having an edge of there own. A bold disposition reclaiming victory over itself entirely. Decisions watching the fishing line creep more and more into the depths of uncertainty. Depths stretching too far to be any ordinary cavity in the construct that is raw emotions. A plan? A claim? Decision making unfiltered correctly? Nothing more accurate then letting the snagged line become eaten by the cracks forming into one gaping pit!
A somewhat stable consistency to stay active on a cracked edge. A slow free fall that doesn't consent me to actually fall. It's an illusional trick you see. Plain and simple.
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