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Jaxey Oct 6
He stole all my heels
because he doesn't like it
when he can't look down on me
I stole them back
دema Oct 5
my thoughts
have invaded
descending on
this mind
of mine
Amy Oct 4
tell me to go out .
But you lock the doors
tell me to talk.
But you hold a filter over my mouth
tell me to get up.
But hold me down
tell me to choose.
But you only show me what
want me to choose
It’s always ever been what
Liz Carlson Sep 25
help me to lose control more
as foolish as that may sound,
help me be at peace with
giving control to you.
help me trust You and Your
oh so good plan more and more.
I am in Your hands,
so why would I not trust you?
let me let go, Father.
restore in me a peaceful heart,
one that i once had,
i know with you it's not impossible.
maria Sep 23
I wanted to be a psychologist
now I'm discovering biology.

I used to love doing athletics
now I'm lying down in my bed
eating chocolate bars and crying for the mess.

I loved reading books
now my library is full of dust.

My grades used to be perfect
but if you look at them right now
you won't even find an A.

I don't know who I'm trying to impress
I don't know who I'm trying to fool
I'm not myself anymore.

In depth, there lays a question:
     did you live or compromise?
I'm losing myself.

written on September 23, 2019
Butterfly Sep 23
You can't control feelings.
Feelings control you.
I thought about this while I was eating a whole cake by myself and I have no regrets.
Megan Jones Sep 20
"A child may not be
considered a piece of property-
only the child possesses genuine rights
the Right to be respected as a person
from the moment of his conception"
He was born in the year 1964
A world on the brink of splitting open,
On the edge of revolution, progress, protest

The stained glass windows speckled from the rain
Incense and old wood covered in fingernail imprints
Matching those on the sides of his arms
A small choir singing hymns of Salvation and Praise
His mother nudges him "stand up straight, eyes forward"
A mind wandering from the homily on Sacrifice
To the images of bombings in Hamburg

Adorned with black and white collars
Gripping an unlabeled wine bottle
The children sprinted through the wooded trails
Mud spattering across their legs and dress shoes
The others spun in circles, as if trapped in jewelry boxes
Their ankles dressed in pink ribbons
This was no place for innocence and imagination
But one of penance and prayer

He kept his toy cars and trains in a green metal box under his bed
It wasn't much, but they were his
Through them locking him in the closet for hours
And being told to not speak unless spoken to
The times of self expression, of emotion, feeling
Shamed and forced suppression - turned to repression
These cars and trains, they were his

Mental illness is a myth
Suicide is a mortal sin
We decide who you are
You cannot feel
Kneel down
Be quiet
Say your prayers
I'm writing a series about control. The ways in which people manipulate time, memories, feelings etc. as a means of determining and predicting what free-thinking individuals do/feel/say... All, supposedly, in the name of love or as a means to preemptively protect themselves from being subjected to the uncontrollable.
TD Sep 20
Billows the volcano angrily
lava spittle dribbling down his chin,
"I'm at the mercy of the clock.."
his lolling drone like a dull metronome
clanging to and fro.

Fists shake in angst
their ephemeral silhouettes
disintegrating into the miasma.

Biding our time
we are all just blowing smoke

and cancer sells.
I apologize for this. I'm not trying to be so fatalistic at all really. As humans, I feel we chase after permanence like it was something to grasp--like we have that kind of power, control. We can make good choices in life, but to say that we control outcomes entirely seems a bit conceited/foolhardy really. We can impact change, but our outcomes depend on something more, at least that's how I believe.
Gale L Mccoy Sep 17
I whisper to myself
no, I write to myself
cause the clack of keys
is a sound unreadable...

                 "let me be ****"
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