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Angela Rose Oct 2017
Follow the rabbit he will take you to happiness
Do not be late, do not miss that date
You could get lost in a sea of confusion
You would be deceived by the ostensible outlook

You could go fetch seven little men
You could be the fairest of them all
Beware of the deep and everlasting sleep
You would be deceived by the apple's red color

Worry about the petals, they are falling so quickly
He will be stuck that forever if you cannot make him love you
Keep an eye on the rose, it is far too beautiful to let go
You will be deceived by the appearance of a beast

Stuck in a tower, do not ever look down
Grow out your hair past the tall brick walls
Spot a good man, make him rescue your heart
You would be deceived by the family relations

Cleaning the bathroom, making the bed
Sneak out to town, be invited to a dance
"Fairy Godmother, please just give me once chance"
You would be deceived by the loss of one shoe

So waiting, I am waiting for an answer to come
Looking for one man to be the one that I want
A fairy-tale ending is nothing I am after
For I would be deceived by the misinterpretations of the story
This little poem is something I wrote back in high-school, but is one of the pieces I am most proud of and most impressed with myself over.
I was louder once.
A beast with a need to feast,
but now I tamp my rampages.
One too many times I leapt
Over and through the fire
Bounding and barreling
Obnoxiously snarling as I caught
my dreams between my jaws and ripped,
To find their warmth evaporating,
my **** growing cold and sticky
as it would dribble and dry,
sweet and cracked down my breast and forearms.
I learned to pace. To release. To settle.
Not to take too many shots, coax, tease, or purr.
Not to bite, howl, or grin.
Not to get too cozy when I stargaze, tell embarrassing drinking stories, or speak my impressing words.
Not to stand on tables,
Not to shout out of car windows,
Not to dance like the drunken Maynads.
And I am quieter for it.
More intact.
Less alive.
I miss that wild beast.
I feel her gnawing at the cracks in my skin
begging me to don the wolf coat.
And some nights,
When the moon is right
I do.
And if I'm not careful,
Fastidiously luring and caging her
with promises of "next time"
until I've re-sewn my skin
I'm afraid that she'll eclipse me,
Careening through the night
And never returning.
I along with her
Never to return.
10.7.17
Inktober Prompt: Shy
Rules: The poem is whatever comes out of the pen, no edits allowed.

This poem is a bit of a response to my popular "I Am Loud" poem. Things have changed.
Elioinai Oct 2017
every word
is bitter now
each slowly
turns to smoke
some fires take
too long to die
these ashes choke my throat

But bright hope begins to clear the flu
as brooms do sweep the hearth
stronger flames burst bright anew
And joy dances!
Sing my heart!
Xyns Sep 2017
When you're down and you're emotionally weak
Remind yourself that there's beauty in every beast
You don't have to be taken down or beaten by defeat
It's inside yourself- the capability to rise to your feet
I try to remind myself every night before I sleep

Sometimes it doesn't work; sometimes I still weap
It's hard to fight the stinging when, into the heart, it creeps
It can be so intense you may feel your world freeze
Still, don't let your legs buckle; don't fall to your knees
Your will is more powerful- this I truly believe

It's unwise to depend on others to provide your relief
Greed is abundant; I feel that's plain to see
You must begin to love yourself to actually be free
Discover a method to let your inner emotions breathe
And grant yourself freedom to let your soul speak

Things may be hard; yes, life may seem bleak
Just understand that there's beauty in every beast
Don't doubt that, in every human, there is magnificent strength
Take flight- let the struggles grace you with elegant wings
Undoubtedly, *there's beauty in every beast
Evi Dent Halo Sep 2017
X
"X."

-

Above it's door was written two lines; similar crossed;

So severe.

-

Slugs and weather gather-

Wether it gathered I doubt it would matter,

Water has no power,

Every blood stain is stained and can't be washed away with cold wind shower:

"X."

-

And all lost traction-

These lines haphazardly done-

Almost if they knew what would snap- in,

And dwell within-

No blessings to stake them in.

-

Test chamber, held number "X."

The few of the last,

So many failures, so many lost.

In sight: The checklist became a mess.

But he:- His name was "X."

-

On every four walls, once white

The claws had eminence driven in, in every angled strike

The horrendous letter of "X."

-

Above it's door was written two lines: similar crossed,

So severe,

Slugs and weather gather-

Wether it gathered I doubt it would matter,

Water has no power,

The great solvient of matter-

All was, All was: "X" held the matter.

-

Cross contamination:

"I can't, it's too much.

Gaping evil power-

That letter? Inside still watching.

My mind aches of traction and scatter

'X,' the horrendous letter 'X.'"

-

Contamination:

Grasp and file down.

All that is good, and worth- and while, down.

-

And all the beasts, the lines, deep within-

Inscribed, was every letter and wicked sin,

All numbers conglomerate into,

(Know sirens, to scream,)

The letter "X" brought hatred name

And every sick child, and ignorant name-

Knew every wicked power by one letter's name."
FINV "X." v6 (6/27/17-8/13/17)
-by Evi D. Halo
Mane Omsy Sep 2017
The little itches in my brain
Could no longer hold on to
But, I see future, calculating
Whether to rise now or later
Last time I messed up, fell
This time to seize the chance
So as to never slip or trip
To change my pace and stance
Survive the waves that hit

I will let you know as I'm ready
My dear, I said, when I'm ready
Stop stalking this beast in me
It hurts, barks or roars sometime
It even eats the flesh straight
And never returns your heart
So stay away, I'll let you know
When it calms down, as I tame it
Manuel Black Sep 2017
The night is dark, and full of terrors
So much dark days
Even the lights seem to struggle.
I heard there is a beast now lurking around
Even lovers don't seem to cuddle.
Plenteous scarcity of good
Amidst the abundance of evil.

Some heard:
"Thou shalt not do evil."
Others only need a Simon,
to let em know:
"That there is no beast in these shadows
No,
It's only the King of the Flies perching around
Atop a filthy desire to create evil among their kind.

Alas, they'd better know tho'
That that incarnate resides in us all
We'd better Recognize!
Muse: The Lord Of The Flies by William Golding
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