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Maria Mitea Jan 14
Don’t be afraid of what you don’t know,
You are too strong to know everything
Too strong,
Can you hear me, too strong,

Do not be afraid of the crowds,
They are too small for you,
Petty muggers,
Hear. how they make noises like  starved  mosquitoes,

Do not be intimidated by knives,
Your eyes are too round to be unsharpened
Listen to your own steps, your own steps
Cutting. the dead. Dead. Corners. of the streets.
Ayesha Nov 2020
wild crowds—quiet towns
—empty as a sky
you sway like death herself.
the scent lingers where you
—no more do.

overflowing vacancy;
so known—unknown.
and wild crowds go wilder
and you—the town—roar.

overflowing silence
I’d hear you whole
if you’d stay—if you’d stay
if only you’d stay.

we could be so many things
and we chose this strangeness
wild crowds—wilder go
quiet towns—even more so

you, I
two impatient oceans
Alex Aug 2020
Fancy dresses,
A big hall and the crowds,
Secret glances,
With means and reasons,
What are the odds,
My eyes meet yours,
While my arms lay on somebody,
And you hated it cause it wasn't you,
You may do your utmost,
But I am not going back,
Flashbacks, memories,
The goods ones and bad,
It's not the typical films you've watched before,
You knew how it ends,
Switching blows,
Blaming games,
And the words are like blades,
We ended hurting ourselves,
So it's maybe gone for good,
And even if we never meant what we say,
We better keep it that way,
Stop seeking chances,
Our eyes parted ways,
At the ball,
With fancy dresses,
In a big hall and full crowds.
Moe May 2020
the wind is always cold
you look over the edge
drop slowly
your mouth chews out vowels and they resemble minutes
end-over-end crowds lost among your breaths
you dissolve and ask me to think of a place
with no points in the sky
Kai Jan 2020
Woolen caps and puffy coats
The crowd yet further bloats
On and on and another one yet
Totaling an ever higher net
No room to breathe here
A thousand thousand men
A ***** glare too often
A single crimson strand
Hidden in the most common brand
s y kalindara Dec 2019
They rest in my stomach
rule the beats of my heart,
soaring under my skin
and through my shaking limbs.
Masked and waiting,
to shred me apart.

In public spaces,
the crowds and faces
spark their power over me.
I close my eyes and count to three.
Still, I can barely breathe.
Steadily swallowing my energy
till vertigo sweeps me off my feet.

Their fluttering wings,
my trembling knees,
both daring my eyes to betray me.
They demand a sacrifice.
I offer cups of fresh tears.
Only the best for
the vessels of my fears.

I can't be careful to the nth degree.
They'll catch on to shifts in my atmosphere.
I can't even pretend they aren't here.
The beats of the butterflies are always near.

Copyright © 2019 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
Rewrote my poem 'Anxiety'. Which version do you prefer?
Alexis Jul 2019
They say there is
no place like home.

But I’d rather be anywhere
than my own mind.

It’s very crowded in here.
Too many faces Too many faces Too many faces
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