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Shannon Jeffery Apr 2014
Is destiny reality
Or just a falsity
Once I believed in destiny
Now I believe it's insanity

I'm a little lost for which path to take
I've been given so many
I just don't want to make a mistake
There are just so many possibilities

Which one is the right
Which one do I pick
Will I end up with a fright
Will I end up really sick

Too many choices
And so many voices
How do I know
Which path to follow

No longer do I believe
That there is destiny
My own path I shall conceive
Have I just created my own insanity
So many life possibilities handed to me but can only pick one. Im young and confused, don't know which path to take. My heart doesn't either lol
Jessy Ivan Diaz Apr 2014
Stars illuminated inside her eyes when the color of her ever changing iris became a golden green with a melted gaseous star of a spectrum that was more than humanly known.

Mars sat at the tip of her tongue and Neptune on the base of her palm,
she swallowed planets whole and the sun burnt brighter as she engulfed the life out of these rocks and
became molten lava.

Her breath smelt of the Milky Way,
with a touch of almonds
and when I kissed her lips
they tasted sweet.

But as I saw life grow on her skin,
her mind showed me the beginning.
How atoms cluster together
and vibrate in unison
creating perplexed ideals that thrive in her belly
and touch her soul
ever so.

Maybe she isn’t aware her eyes look like a universe

But I don’t care,
I’m just a space shuttle looking for something beautiful to discover.
Alison Apr 2014
Sometimes I think
there are not enough words
to describe the color of your eyes
or the curve of your neck,
the way you make my bones ache
or the speed of my heart when I hear your voice.
I think about the lack
the inability
to outline you in pencil and ink
with all the words I know now.
You are something new.
You require a new combination of
letters and sounds.
There is not a single phrase in all of the world
to explain the way you make me feel,
so for you
I will create a new language.
Alison Apr 2014
you told me you want to create
beautiful art
and i can't understand
how you don't see
that you are already an artist.
you paint your stories on my skin,
masterful watercolors
in deep reds and clear blues
your every word is a
drop of paint
that i carry with me.
i am a willing canvas
for your beautiful creations
She is my artist.
Conar McVicker Feb 2014
Tearing over white peaks.
Destroying in creation.
Chaos posed as order.
Mountains shift with its persuasion.

With meaning beyond it's knowledge.
Guidance gained from concentration.
Oh what purpose! What rhythm!
What beautiful destruction!

It lives in excitement and sadness.
It thrives in thoughts and dreams.
Creating something from nothing,
In a world that eyes can't see.
R Saba Jan 2014
we place so much importance
on words, don’t we?
like these black lines
define us or something
like these speech bubbles can represent
the real thing inside
so why do we find words for things
that do not exist?
and why are there some things
that we cannot describe?
four letters, four words
an entire book isn’t enough
to explain how i feel right now
when i hardly know myself
and that’s just the thing
we place so much importance on words
as if they can say what we can’t
as if i could just reach inside myself
and pull out this feeling, confused and unheard
and words will fill in the blanks for me
but it’s not like that
we place so much importance
on something we created ourselves
and we write words down, like love
and hate and everything in between
and it seems to me like putting pen to paper
just solidifies the definition
tattoos it into reality’s skin, and it sinks in
and that word takes hold
whether or not it was true
of course, here i am
hypocritical as usual
tearing down the one thing
that lets me speak my mind
but i guess i just wish there was some other way
to figure out how i really feel
feeling boxed in

— The End —