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Once upon a little girl
Opened her eyes to see the world
Eyes so bright a cry too sweet
With hands so little she would meet
She would cry she would smile
Alive,innocent and fragile
Un aware she who was
She who not knew the cause
The snakes were like fairy maids
One she thought had magic wands
To give her every thing she wants
But they were wolves in  sheeps skin
They would howl they wont bleat
Soon the truth could be seen
How could she not believe
When the wolf was like a mother eve
Soon the time would come and flee
She would call is it me
But she is not for her to see
When they are born in place of me
Youre not a child for us to keep
Finding they were not the sheeps
But wolves that howl in night so deep
They bite they growl but they never sleep
Should i bow should i kneel
Would i be served another meal
Should i stay or should i flee
Or should i run away from me
But one starry night he comes
Piping a flute as he hums
Singing me a melody
Tell me ways how to flee
Thinking happy thoughts you see
Growing up is not the key
Sitting by the window pane
Perched there as he says
Do you want to run away
Soaring the skies as we stay
Gazing the stars as we play
Climbing wild on every tree
Take my hand and lets be free
Isnt it your heartfelt plea
In that land where you shall flee
This is the place called neverland
The Lagoon with its sparkling sand
You and I hand in hand
With a little bit of pixie dust
With hope and little bit of trust
Look me in the eyes and see
Fill with wonder ,Fill with glee
Second to the right and see
A star full of happy dreams
Straight on till the sweet morning
Its where they always be warning
Dont be afraid just come to me
Ill be the one to set you free
Pretty fairies you shall meet
Pirates ,Captain hook and Smee
All that pain shall fade away
Holding you in my arms and say
Growing up is a mortal's way
Together forever we shall stay
Young, alive and happy you say
Its a curse its a dream
An angel of death i could be
Do you still wish to stay
I could **** i could slay
Every one who disobeys
Wishing of growing up one day
All those lost boys would say
But i would not be one of those
I hate those words they would say
Grow up and marry one day
But i wish to choose i wish to stay
You cant be a girl anymore
You shall be caged forevermore
I promise i wont be the wendy bird
Who never stayed who never heard
I shall stay i shall play
In neverland if you say
Come peter take me away
In neverland if you say
Come peter set me free
From this mundane reality
Come peter love me please
Hold my hand and never leave
I shall stay i shall play
In neverland if you say
              ___tsuki no ume~
Avni Jun 22
When I left my bed and snuck outside, the wind was firm and cold
And paper birds swirled about my face and flew through times untold
Papered wings and papered backs and their papered beaks so quiet
That I wished only to touch them, though I did not dare try it
Then I had wondered quite distinctly whether it might not be
Merely a dream I was dreaming, but a truth that I should see
Though the strangeness was so prevalent, l could not help but feel
This was indeed reality, for the wind was hard as steel
Because in these wondering moments, when my mind had wandered far
The storm had grown to such degree I could scarcely see a star
But the birds still swished so silently around my ghostly face
It seemed they had no place to go except their old paths retrace
Again, again, and again they swooped until they pierced my skin
Yet no blood appeared about me, but rather, deep and sharp within
My anguish seemed frivolous, although the pain suffused each limb
The birds cared not for what I felt, each black eye so bleak and grim
Full of hatred, full of loathing, full of useless, pointless wrath
Their lipless smiles split their faces, they could not help but laugh
Deep within their feathered beings was the goal of my demise
Did I commit some act against them, I could not but surmise
Or had they come to carry out the justice of another?
Only of this thought I was sure, it was my fault and no other
Yet my memory did fail me as my mind was fogged with pain
What had been hopes and loves and loyalties struggled to remain
Is this where I shall end because of some dark and baseless rage?
Or ‘ever I be interred within this dark and feathered cage?
No reason could I fathom, although their purpose seemed quite clear
Was this torture they had wrought nothing more than my baseless fear?
Was this paper nothing but a mere creation of my mind?
As I carefully examined each small fold I could at no point find
Anything much more substantial than a darkly scoffing smoke
A mist that swirled all ‘round my face until I could naught but choke
My throat I grasped with my bloodied hands, each wound so small yet real
Each mark to forever haunt me — such a small though stubborn seal.
Sorry, friends. I know it’s been a while. I’ve been working through a lot of stuff. This one is in a very rough form, so any advice on how to improve it to make it flow more smoothly would be appreciated. I’m looking for rearrangement of phrasing and meter. The meter is mess and I would like it if it flowed somewhat smoothly.
duck Mar 29
a glance at you
it makes my day
the longing grew
my mind astray
following my heart
like a dandelion's seed
wind separating us apart
and i concede
after all-
i'm delusional.
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛' 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑦,
𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦,
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑓𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦,
𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛' 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑣𝑎𝑠 𝑜𝑓  𝑎 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑦.  

𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑒,
𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛' 𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛' 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛.
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒,
𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛' 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒.  

𝐻𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟,
𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛' 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑧𝑒𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑟'𝑠 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑒,
𝐴𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑎𝑧𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒,
𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛' 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟.  

𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑚𝑢𝑟𝑠 𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑛',
𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑧𝑒𝑝ℎ𝑦𝑟 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛'.
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑑𝑦,
𝑖𝑛 𝑎 ℎ𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑦.  

𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛' 𝑎 𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑎,
𝑡𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛' 𝑡𝑜 𝑎 𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎.
𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑙𝑦𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑑𝑢𝑙𝑐𝑒𝑡 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑎,
𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑝ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑛𝑖𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑎.  

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑦,
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑦,
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑡𝑦,
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦,
𝐻𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦,
𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦.  

𝑆ℎ𝑒'𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑔𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒𝑡𝑦,
𝑠ℎ𝑒'𝑠 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑦,
𝑆ℎ𝑒'𝑙𝑙 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛 𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦,
𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑦,
𝑆ℎ𝑒'𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛' 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑚 𝑜𝑓 𝑛𝑖𝑟𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑎,
𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛' 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑠𝑎𝑟𝑎.
A delusion... An imagination... I have created my never endin' reverie..
That I could only dream off..
Mishika Feb 17
I miss the days
When the stars would smile
And the trees talked about you.

When your voice was still music
And your hair; my night sky,
I truly cherished it.

I miss the moments
When art was you
And everything else was you.

Writing about you
And dreaming endlessly,
I exceptionally enjoyed.

But I never miss
The days that I
Regretted missing reality for you.
duck Dec 2024
snow. yuki. xue. nevicare.
i long for it.
days filled with ludiosis,
with my heart split.

gentle flakes on the window,
as i lie in innity.
warm side of the pillow,
and i'm just being lazy.

but that-
that's not reality.
i hear your waltz, dear bird.

the soliloquy,

the melodies that pull at the strings holding what’s left
of my heart evermore.

i listen, to the shuffle of your ruffled feathers,
your light feet
dance to the creak of hardwood.

a sonical prison.
as this intrepid cell guard is
fueled by my schizophrenia,

and van gogh like delusions.

none of grandeur.

so here are my ears, one sliced from reality,
the other searching for its vibrations.

each majestic, and just as much
consequentially miserable, piano strike
marks a new set of steps for you.

and although i no longer feel,
nor see, i still hear exactly how you carry yourself.

and from that i draw insane conclusions.
from there, upon just listening,
i can imagine what your ****** expressions are like,
and from your laugh as you dwindle around this penitentiary
like a loose branch amongst gusts of wind

i can tell you’re free.

free to fly. free to feast.
free to find a new mate.
free to watch the world burn
from a bird's eye view.

just as we used to do.

free at last, most importantly from us,
more specifically from me.

and although i no longer

feel, nor see.

i still hear exactly how happy you are.

and that isn’t the most heart shattering aspect of our ordeal,

or should i say, my ordeal, to live with, alone.

because the part that really allows me to carefully and diligently pluck single strands of hair from my head as if i could somehow string out the memory of you out from my infinite depths,

is the fact that i can hear, clear as day,

another bird’s chirp,
another bird’s laugh,

another set of feet, on this waltz you’re on.

and when i say heart shattering,

i hope you hear it break, as the sounds of it
reverbs across this room’s vast loneliness.

oh, where are my van gohg like delusions now?

i’ll continue my search, since now i fully know that

you’re just gone. with the wind.

fly, my dear. and leave me, here.

to die amongst your waltz.

-melancholicreator
this is a very personal piece for me and it emanates the fabric of this very niche and specific, yet broadly experienced, sorrow within heartbreak and/or moving on.
hayden Oct 2023
I can't stand myself. I'm scared that if I let myself think, I'll spiral so far down that I'll never come back up for air. I don't want to be crazy. I don't. I don't want visions from God. I don't want to see the cameras, check the locked door six more times, shake when the tires veer too close to the curb. I don't want to scream every time I see my reflection blink. I don't want to see my reflection blink. How do I convince myself that I still have time to build a life worth living when I lose myself every day in my delusions? Will I one day stop returning to reality? Will I still have time to build a life worth living if I don't? Do I live in the rot, let it consume me and wait to forget, or do I make something of myself, just to lose it the next time I have an episode? I lose hours talking to myself. I lose myself in the hours in between. And I'm terrified to lose everything. I religiously keep receipts and old packaging, mementos of every average Tuesday evening, because what if what if what if? What if I reach thirty and do not remember being twenty two? What if this is all I have to remember that I had a life before I lost it? What if I don't reach thirty and this collection of memories is the only thing left of me? Does a person's potential die when their mind begins to lie, or when they begin to believe it? I don't know if I have psychotic episodes anymore. It's more like episodes of lucidity to break up my average day of hiding from the NSA or my landlord or my neighbor or the ghosts or the devil or God or my mother or myself. Will I ever be a real person? If I build a life worth living, will I have my mind long enough to settle into it? I look to the future and there's a fog I can't quite see through. I'm afraid when I get there, that the past will look the same.
fear of losing my mind
(first thing ive written in years be gentle)
Francis Oct 2023
Cornelius,
Cornelius,
I’m tired,
Want to sleep.

Cornelius,
Cornelius,
Stop laughing,
As I weep.

Stop hiding,
In the corner.
Stop lurking,
Like a creep.

The only way,
To rid of you,
The only way,
To sleep.
I’ll draw you,
‘Till the crack of dawn,
To satisfy your needs.
This takes me back to a time in middle school when I caught my best friend (at the time) compulsively, discreetly drawing this eerie, disturbing doodle face on the bus ride home. I asked him what he was drawing and he said that it was this kid named Cornelius that comes out at night in his room. According to him, Cornelius said that only way he’ll leave him alone is if he draws him a lot. To this day, I can still draw the face he drew, and wish I could share it with this poem. This unfortunately made us drift apart, as I was too disturbed to remain in contact.
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