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Adrienne Jun 2019
i breathe
bubbles rise
Underwater is
Silent can't hear
little kids scream and splash
my hair flows around my head
in rolling auburn ways
no goggles,
chlorine stings my open eyes
I could stay Forever
in this vivid blue expanse
peaceful, blurry, silent
my lungs burn
and i'm reminded
of my human need for oxygen
feet push with a crack
off pristine off-white concrete
shimmering with Sunlight patterns
I gasp
breath fills my lungs
peace, still lingering
is ruptured by a Kid
with a Water Gun
Colm Apr 2018
You speak of stars
As if on first name
No closer you are to me

Yet I am in my own atmosphere
Just waiting to breathe
And fill my lungs with thee

Forget, no don't
The memory in mind
Of when tingling spines aligned

No starlight impedes
Be it out of reach
How your words once made me shine
No comment. Least here in this manner.
now let words
make love
I Love You
we hate

who could keep who
The Ink Well Feb 2018
Life is better made making decisions rather than weighing consequence.
Meet me in the Garden
Where the wind whispers through the willows
As they bend to nature's mighty breath
Meet me on the sandy beach
Where the peaceful ocean ebbs & flows
Like the cycle of life and death
Meet at the the place
That can only be called


Where no one feels abandoned
Where no one feels alone
MickeyP Aug 2015
To not integrate
To bring men, all of men
Faceless men
To a cave
To be amongst but never within
Where nameless figures
Bound by archaic scripts
And lies
Killing in the name of God
All in the name of God
Bound by the undefined
And lies
Twisted to resemble
Despicable art
And more lies
Creating monsters
Through no fault of their own, yet monsters.
It can not be golden
It will never be golden
You can not infuse beauty by telling gilded lies
Austin Heath Mar 2014
If it gets you through the night,

you could sit there on the couch and pretend that I’m not listening.

We’ve been over this time and again, yet here you are flipped

from side B to side A. I hope your tape breaks and this message

is flipping in the wind on a tab with a marker

marked red. I hope you understand.

My life feels like vacation but my… well everybody

will promise you violence over practically nothing

and I think I deserve a better planet. Instead I’m here.

It’s marginally all my ego, but mostly I just want to disappear.

I swear; If I break a heart I’ll fix it, but I’m a disease and a symptom,

and I stick like bad religion. Worshipers take shelter from this cult.

I’d even stab you if I had proper motivation,

and I didn’t treat myself like my own martyr for nothing.

The “real” me may only be what you make of me anyways.

My image of myself only exists within my head,

and in that image I am rotten with perfection.

My only corduroy is torn and smells of bleach,

but I’m too sleepy to change into my skin.

I swear I’m more than just an ordinary sin,

just because I’m also my own martyr.

— The End —