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Cece Jun 2020
You
My face lights up like a little ******* Christmas when I see you
It's been only day or so but I won’t stop loving you
You make me into a diamond when I feel like a piece of coal
As you shine my day and make me sparkle.

Your smile is the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen
As it brings joy to all
it is something that cannot be unseen
Every day you treat me like a queen
As I ascend my throne
You are my king
BungeeGum May 2020
There are crafts of countless drafts on this blank page,
accounts of my days of happiness or rage are on this blank page,
hinted goals and affirmations are blueprinted on this blank page,
look and you shall find that my mind roars it's thoughts unfiltered on this blank page,

Behold a story begins to unfold on this blank page.

Ink jives it's hips, thrives in it's own motions and clicks it's fingers in rhythm to the writers melody that lingers,
In order to transcribe what you're trying to describe to the mass of one or many on this blank page,

Sentences are redacted,
subtracted from the line of sight equating to something that now means nothing,

Why?

It could be a mistake,
a misfire of  the message I attempted to make,
thinking I had it locked and loaded,
Ready to shoot it across this blank page,

Or...

It could be that I find it unnecessary to reveal deep parts of me,

So...

I become hell bent on destroying any trace that may possibly leave my scent in this blank page,

The land of doodles,
far and wide is it's reach,
with the population consisting of ...
stick-mankind,
Talking poodles,
Confetti filled with noodles,

Whatever you can think of is there in this blank page.


On this blank page I stare deep into it's void and wonder....

What shall we do today ?
topacio May 2020
the need
to create
& connect
is strong
with
this one.
Four May 2020
I know poems does not have to be rhyme, but I am rhyming mine.

It is just a preference that everyone has the right,
But rhyme or not rhyme a poem is poem when author recites.

Some are composed deep, imaginative or metaphoric,
Some are written simple, nonfigurative or realistic.

However it is wrote,
However it is composed,
Your gift of writing deserved to be exposed.

Let the words just flow,
Let your pen and paper do its work,
Someone might need and enjoy it folk,
So continue on, for you're doing great work.

Never stop creating for there are people waiting, appreciating and needing,
You are part of the community that will keep artistry living.

Yes, you heard it right,
you are an artist, just if you keep it alive,
If you read this, received this pat on the shoulder, for you from mine.
You're blessed with this talent share them to world. Never stop creating and celebrating artistry. 😉
Maja May 2020
life has its tricks,
sometimes, it’ll hit you with bricks,
but even if I crack, I’m still me.
Just because I’m broken,
doesn’t mean there’s anything to fix.
I just need some help to find myself. Not to create someone else.
MayC May 2020
you tried to hurt me
with poisonous tears.
you threw at me
your bravest fears,
unleashing your demons
on my bare shoulders
to **** my soul
with their tar black boulders.
-pieces from your spirit-
you made my worlds
and my words
bleed,
perfectly playing your villainous part,
you can't believe
i still make
-and breathe-
art.
but darling,
did you forget
i had a spiked heart?


-May Colde
IMCQ Apr 2020
The glass wall between us,

Write upon it.

Teach me your wants and wishes.

I'll do the same.

As we fill the pane,

Your smile will become obstructed.

The stories will become muddled.

And when we run out of space to write,

We will wait for the barrier to shatter.

Even if the wall never falls,

I will find comfort in the darkness we

Created.
Hello world! There is a shame in admitting that this was inspired by my time on dating apps... The glass being the phones we hold, the stories being getting to know each other.  Hopefully later choosing to establish a HUMAN connection.
Chloe Goulding Apr 2020
All I have is grown up thoughts now.
I don't see that girl anymore, that child.
That child was never a child.
Just a girl.


In an extremely different world.
The one she used to get away from the confusing pain.
She screamed, sobbed, and stared her way through life.


Knowing how others had pain, so she never complained.


The screaming was to release anger.
The crying was to show her heart.
The staring was to test if others could stare back and find something more within the "innocent happy child".


The girl had something that was magic.
Her kind of magic.


Music played around her, in her head, and everyday to be an escape.
It was never just an escape route, it was a road to feeling happiness.
The happiness she deserved,


That we deserve.


Now, still to this day, the girl listens to music...
Not because of the escape, adrenaline, or odd feeling of emotions;
It's all for the passion and love that she feels.


Music is her safest place,
It's more than a dream or a part of imagination.


It was God's gift to her path, it is the start of her story creation.
What will be, will be.
Maja Apr 2020
Don’t be afraid of the monster.

The monster was once a normal being,
until something made it a monster.

Don't be afraid of the monster.

Be afraid of the thing that created it.
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