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Alexis 2d
I remember being a young girl at the pool
Playing this game with myself
Where I would float on my back
Belly, face, and palms to the sun
I’d see how still I could be
And once I was as still as I felt was possible
I’d exhale and feel myself sink
Almost close enough to where my nose was underwater
Just before the moment where air meets water
I’d breathe in as deep as I could manage
And feel myself rise again
Back to the surface
Back to safety
Sometimes I still do that
Maybe you do too
Just in a different way
Jay M Mar 2019
He’s coming.
Rage, hate, steaming,
Hunting you down,
As though you were prey,
Though you thought you knew,
You were wrong,
We all were...
Danger, that’s what it is,
He is.

Think you have the upper hand?
He will never be satisfied,
Not unless it’s his way,
Its way or no way,
Run away,
If you can.

Hope he doesn’t follow you,
I’ll protect you,
Hide you away,
"Just leave us be!"
Would be my plee,
But I doubt it would listen
Like a hurricane of devastation,
Destroying all in its path,
Get away if you can,
Run from Danger.

- Jay M
September 11th, 2018
I drive my car during an allergy attack.
No one ever talks about
the daredevils
who continue barreling down the highway
70 mph and


Head snaps downward
eyes forcefully closed
the mountains and truckers
swirling around you and death
places a bet

and as quick as it started
it’s all over.
Nylee Sep 25
it is little late to realise
but I see that you don't see
the way I do
you don't feel the way I do
you don't tell me otherwise too
and here I am
continuing to dream about you
it is no fault of yours
that you do not reciprocate
but now it is too late
why don't you
a warning
that I am venturing
into danger zone
where hearts and dreams
are bound to break.
Mansi Sep 24
I am learning that self-pity
Is a dangerous thing
That must never
Be allowed into your mind

It might be comforting
In an unusual way
But in reality
It's slowly poisoning
Your mind
Spacetime warps round her,
Moons colliding, suns implode.
Black hole siren song.
Isaac Ward Sep 19
Hallmark stories are awfully boring,
Every story gets me snoring,
'She was misunderstood' and stuff,
'He would never be good enough',

And she finds a new man through luck,
And he's a decent... buck,
But is he worth it?
'Oh, he's so perfect!',

And they are like oil and fire,
They're gunna burn their bed down,
But they get along well, I guess,
And do things they won't confess,

And then suddenly they break up,
And get back together,
Contrived circumstances-
And wedding advances,

But it's never mentioned-
How three years later,
With a baby on her knee,
How lonely marriage can be,

Cause he's got a drinking habit,
And she's scarred to bring it up,
The baby's bruises are rough,
He's just misunderstood and stuff.
Blind Pathos Sep 8
Untitled because it is not about any one thing. It is of the stuff written about, untamed, undiscovered… un yet. That which is just beyond. Before the hand reaches it, before the eye sees, before the mind pours it into the shape that is comprehensible. It is pure. It is debauched. It is half and complete. It is the blind mice playing a symphony with small instruments in Schrödinger's black box where he suspects a cat to be. It is the mother of “Ah Ha” and the father of “Eureka” that is this tear.

Be neither this nor that
He nor she thin or fat
Be and being not
From any given lot

That grail of poetry
That makes it be
This lightless paint
What tis and taint

Who may choose may
Find who chooses say
It choose me instead
I am and was dead

Be rabbit or sacred star
Do I follow and how far
If I am weary I resume
My fleshy wick consumed

So big… yet so small
So… yet… so it is all
Great be in my being again
Now at least I have been
Arrogance is required to write on a perfectly white piece of paper. Creative acts require the timid mouse to leave his house and gamble his life for more.
xavier m Sep 6
Oh Lady heart eyes my heartaches of love
My heart bleeds the name of someone I mustn’t love
The moonlight sits on her skin so gently, she is made of stardust
A jewel of many colors no other reaches her beauty
Her simple words sing in my head as the birds do at the crack of dawn
I enjoy her company but I mustn't love another woman.
Another poem, I am anxious.
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