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M-E Dec 2018
9
A cat with nine lives
Jumped in front of a truck
R.I.P
Died of miscalculation
Emma Nov 2018
I wish I opened up more,
Maybe that’s why people get bored.
I’m so scared of being vulnerable,
That i just end up being unreachable.

If only I said what I needed to,
Maybe I wouldn’t feel like I do.
Because you only notice how bad you’re hurting,
When you’ve finally stopped worrying or caring.
Sad, I know but it’s my outlet.
Anivel Aidan Sep 2018
sometimes i wonder if we'll make it -
after all misscomunications that leads to fights
that leads to tears that at the end
always ends up with us tangled
around each other.

i swear sometimes my anxieties, insecurities
and monsters got the best of me
and turned me into a villain
and break his heart over and over again
"there's a thin line between
loyalty and stupidity"
i always tell him
but still he stays
and still he fights for us

"i do this because i love you. that's it.
i love you and your difficulities.
i love you because you're the best
thing that has ever happened to me
and i want to be with you forever,"
he says.

forever.
what a silly word.

at the end i do love him, though,
i love him with all my soul.
i can lie to myself and say that
it's better for him to be apart from me -
but i want him.

at the end of the day,
i'd still kiss his forehead and
hug him in his sleep.

i know i do love him, though,
because even in my madness
and carelessness
i still don't want to leave
and when i've upset him too much,
even with my stubborn pride,
i'd hug him
still mad
but walls crumbling by the seconds.
M-E Jul 2018
I’m the nameless, nobody
Born of a nameless, nonexistent mum
And a nameless, nonexistent dad
In a placeless city
New in town and I don’t mind
To re-shape my mind
By a town that is so ruthless,
So thoughtless and -
Maybe
I am feeble
But certainly in a new form
A new coming storm,
A cyclone,
A cyclops,
A mongrel
Annihilating,
Devastating,
Decapitating your approval and pity
I’m glass, seen through and sharp
An undecipheral writing
Meticulously weird and uncanny
I’m a boy, a girl
A maniac,
A brainiac,
A pyromaniac,
A junior granny
It’s funny
Wondering why I’m the way I am
You sculptor -
I’m leaving,
Somewhere where I will not find you
For the bullied and the forgotten generation.

Can’t we find a solution instead of demolition, intentionally or unintentionally?
Alisha Vabba Dec 2016
I washed three times but still:
I smell the vile breath, and still
I see the sunken bloodshot eyes
a pain too deep and miserable to scream
from its open grave, vestige of human lies.

Tomorrow your vacant eyes will not remember this face
yet the fetid smell will not ever leave my head.
Again and again it plays,
the blurry vision of a heat induced hallucination
sneaking up, once again, to threaten my sanity.

I thought it was a child,
an innocent, ill-fated child on a bike,
perhaps still burning, perhaps still alive.
Yet all I could find was the shell of a human life
bruised by a world which is infinitely unkind.

As you blinked at me and slurred your dissent
I disentangled your legs from the wheels
tugged you out of your certain crematorium
dead weight to weak arms and shaky knees,
dead weight to all our cushioned lives.

My abandoned car blinked furiously
ignored by the lives that unblinkingly drove by
No longer human, no longer of use,

illegal smelly immigrant

I wretched violently on the way home
the smell of your skin on my clothes and hands
the unsettling disgust in humanity
steeped into my disillusioned plans.
Only one man stopped:

‘anche io sono straniero ma…’

His conscience dirtied by judgement over judgement
your rotten breath etched deep into his identity
an anchor of blame which has nowhere tangible to go
defensive and defenceless to this worldwide generalisation.
Anche io sono straniero ma.

Did I really save your life, did I choose to be this way?
To follow the trail in the grass
where the cheap boxed wine pulls drunkards off course.
To acted upon automation, like the Belding’s ground squirrel,
putting itself in danger in the name of evolution.

You asked god to bless me but did I really do you a kindness?
Or should I have let the heat put you to sleep, cease your pain?
Head nuzzled in the prickly grass, feet tangled in your rusty bike
barbed wire inches from your eye
invisible to the road, invisible to the world.

And as xenophobia prevails, as hatred and fear win the UK
and all these cars speed away, I feel lonely and wired incorrectly.
Feliz G Sep 2016
Smile, smile, smile,
It's all they want you to do,
they don't care what you feel,
they don't care what you'll do.

They just don't want your burdens,
they just dont want to understand,
lucky for me,
their carelessness I withstand.
Don't know you, don't know me
Peter Watkins Feb 2016
And so it starts, all over again.
A matter of the heart and long term pain.
The downfall of man, root of evil.
The great drive which just rules.
Temptation never made anyone.
Temptation just made life fun.

This is the feeling, the desire,
which makes us start fires.
The things we will do, to take,
to wake our sensations...
These actions are endless, limits boundless,
and if desperation strikes they become shameless.

She's the sort that you like,
but not the kind that you love.
A little too young to strike,
any kind of attraction or desire to commit.
You want her, to know what it's like.
Not knowing better, she gives you a bite.

Delicious, marvellous, ***** filth...
The self-hatred compliments your guilt.
You're fat because you pick up the cake,
you're killing yourself because you love the taste.
You're covered in scars because you suffer the ache,
you're cutting yourself to lighten your weight.

Such a burden, the world crushing you.
Only alleviated through pleasure shallow.
It's tempting to take the short road
and achieve satisfaction, lightening your load.
But it's only temporary, eventually,
you'll be gagging for another fix.

And the next fix is killing you!
Unable to stop you know that it's true.
Every taste as fleeting as it is pleasing;
searing, into your future, pain and suffering.
But sometimes, it's worth every second of loathing...
Just for the sensations that come with your sinning.

Set the world on fire, just to lighten her eyes.
Destroy your body, just to feel the heat rise...
I've touched on the subject of addiction previously but this gives the subject a different angle. It's tempting to take the easy road or have short term fun without considering the consequences; in most circumstances it can end up ruining you. But I suppose that doesn't make it any less fun at the time.
Alisha Vabba Nov 2015
a blanket
on a clothes line the stains
all washed out
I hang out in boredom,

to dry.

I am sick
of the clips
that wearily hold me up

of this washed out sanity

I am sick.

This is not the best me I can be.

Stop this, run again.

madness
drunkenness
silliness

dance away control:

colours bodies laughter

c a r e l e s s n e s s

the frenzy the rush
the high.

I miss life and I have lied.

burn books thoughts dreams.

They aren’t enough,
I’m going to die.

burn lists
projects.

I don’t need to be clever and ok.
people movement fear anger ****.


- to touch
and

be touched.


to feel alive.
Lynn Greyling Nov 2014
Empty head
Filled with lead,
Spilt the beans...
Spoilt the fun.

Flatter-flutter
Pigs in the butter,
Killed the fun.
Chicken run.


Pitter-patter
Chitter-chatter.
Spilt the milk,
It doesn’t matter…

Cry no more
Like before.
Water under the bridge,
Milk is in the fridge.
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