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Axel Mar 2020
Empty, and insanity.
A world, an imaginary bliss.
A mindspace, nothing to believe.
How I describe my own mind
TS Mar 2020
My feet feel the cool touch of the grass as I tip toe across the lawn. These long summer nights hold such a blissful innocence about them. Even in growing up, working at a desk job, and paying all the bills, I still feel like a kid when I am surrounded by fireflies in the cool, refreshing twilight air of a Wednesday night in June.

On my checkered blanket, the wind rustles the grass around me and each blade begins to dance to a song you can hear if you are quiet enough...

Distant wind chimes ringing, the breeze rustling the branches, the cicadas chip both near and far, a frog family croaks from the creek near by. There are few moments in this world where peace can wash over someone. In this moment, on the ground, in my PJs, I, a 20 something tired warrior, shine my flashlight toward the sky above in awe so that I may add my light to the infinate chorus above.

The serene nights of summer take me back to a time much simpler. A time when our only worries were 'can we get all of our adventures done in the time before we have to go to sleep?'. A time I go back to every June, just to feel that closeness, that humanity that I so crave. We are more than this zombie-like figure that takes over our bodies each day. We are creative and imaginative. We are fun loving and kind. We are children at heart and we need to stop depriving that child of the happier things in life.




-t.s.
Debbie Lydon Feb 2020
Loneliness, you, the great misunderstood privilege,
You, oh terrible and gut-wrenching luxury,
To face that expansive, internal abyss,
And to know myself, wholly,
In deepest despair and boldest bliss.

Slow motion memory, you intricate skill,
Towering and dangerous like waves of wine's sea,
Decanting your motion and learning to savour,
Sweet moments of wonder, drunken and divine,
Show me myself in my buried behaviour.
Hanna C S Feb 2020
When we are apart at night;
I find us behind the closed curtains of my eyelids;
Against the side of my skull where you have me pushed.
Back brushes bone  
As I lie on foreign sheets
My fingers lace the curls in your hair
As yours curl my throat and finger the lace
That slips from my skin to the floor.
Your are not between these four walls
and never have treaded the space that they hold
Yet still your scent sends sparks skittering
as they spill up and over these spinal slopes
Our mouths meet with welcome;
And tongues intertwine in time to touch
Teasing - my teeth find a grip upon your lips;
And pull, to lead, in my mind,
As we move to the bed of the brain.

Alone at night I am flushed hot;
By the infernal cells that conjure you here.
With your skin against mine;
Above and beneath me;
We move in time to the rythm of blood,
And waltz through valves from chamber-
To chamber as I am reminded;
The thought of you is the thread that should never be pulled;
But always is;
And I did and I do;
Call me your most impatient play-thing
As each neuron leads to the next
Forming circuits that race me to you.
Each image-sensation floods this vessel till I am sunk, weakly overcome,
By the mix of memories that meet and merge,
Warm like the tides soaked in sunlight.
I swear by the power of the moon:
With every wave I am pulled an inch closer to you.
Missing you across countries
Grey Mar 2020
I remember sitting on the floor,
Arms wrapped around me.
Bawling my eyes out
Wondering why I'm crying,
Thinking what's wrong with me?
This isn't reality.
Now I look back and realize,
It was real.
It was abuse.
Nothing was wrong with me,
Except for being used.

A telltale sign,
I now see.
The problem wasn't even me.
Angry with what has happened
But elated because...
Now I'm free,
Effortlessly,
Drifting on a breeze,
Of such sweet release.
I have to say
God bless me
And everything that tried to break me
That in itself amazes me

đź’™

Written,
by me...

Rebecca
Kevin Hayes Feb 2020
Wings still down

I thought flight could come to those on the ground

Don’t wanna walk around

I rather fly high

But without the confidence to span

You’ll never see the sky.

Don’t wanna be the type of guy

to waste talent.

But the soul behinds these eyelids

Needs balance
to walk the fine line between genius and insanity.

How can it be
that my canopy is litter dollar signs

but I never dream of cents
just a few problems of mine.

Wake up with no repentance.
violavics Feb 2020
in moments of bliss
you shine inadvertently
unsure of why I worry of you

in fragments of abyss
you relieve deliberately
sure of why I wish for you;
I certainly cannot miss
February 11, 2020
C Cavierre Feb 2020
Water dripping and starlight trickling,
angels of sleep appearing—
comfort-bringing in your dreaming,
puffing clouds and wish-fulfilling.

Peaceful sighs and darkened skies,
kindly and gentle moonlight—
harmless shadows under wings of white,
shielding your blissful night.

Cotton softness beneath your head,
feather-light dandelions around your bed—
silver rivers you imagined
lulling serenely toward land of rest.

Soothing, patting hand of hope
beckoning promises of tomorrow—
blessings awakening on your horizon,
fending unwanted future sorrows.
conjured this in the middle of a 12-hr night shift
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