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-elixir- Aug 2020
The distorted utopia swallows
me in into the bed of ghosted souls
among the thorns of lies that
pile on with twisted smiles
and words of sugar.

The deserted lands that once saw
joy lay parched with fear of pain.
The permanent is the new flaw,
That drives the winds of pleasure away,
as I hide in my shadows.
FLAWED
Bryn Kennell Jul 2020
Leaping and twirling
An act of deception
Water Beneath
An Altered Reflection

Easy to fall
Slip into lies
Her smile did not quite reach her eyes

The ground beneath
Could easily break

Hid her true self
Risked her own life
To dance on thin ice
Her dancing and smile hide her struggles from the world. To keep up the act, she risks losing her life. For a layer of ice is all that stops her from falling.
Ileana Amara May 2020
people possess three things in life:
a shield, a heart, and a dagger

a shield for the logic,
a heart for the soul,
a dagger forged by the strength of emotion,
unbeknownst to many about its origin.

people used these three things,
a dagger to protect oneself from this cruel world,
a heart to beat its rhythm of existence,
and a shield to ward off the weapon from wounding and distorting a heart.

why do we need a dagger?
it takes two to tango,
it takes chaos to begin chaos.

people wander relentlessly,
breathing, and existing and loving,
until a dagger pierces through,
leaving an open wound,
and a weapon sharpened.

little do we know,
the closer the proximity,
the more ideal love gets,
the lesser we see it coming,
the lesser we forget,
a shield is used to protect a soft, beating creature.

from an open wound,
and sharp weapon,
the cycle of chaos arise,
few people heal,
multifolds stab another heart,
"perhaps there will always be another heart to break."

one polished its shield very well;
the logic and knowledge
choked a heart to non-existence,
there was nothing left to stab,
there was nothing left to feel.

one stood with a wooden shield,
a state of balance within,
of calm and chaos and fear
to wound and lose its heart,
and be forced to survive with a dagger.

the pandemic goes on,
perhaps only until the daggers cease to exist,
soft creatures cannot battle with a heartless one,
it can only tame a while, until it becomes distorted and heartless too.

the pandemic weakens
when a wounded heart heals,
not because of the shield,
not because of time itself,
but because it's a wonder: some hearts can never be irreparably broken.

IA
Caitlyn Seal May 2020
if you knew all
you would worship

what I crammed inside that tainted tissue
and stitched into her stale skin
was rich

plump figure
lattice surface, etched in gold

noble of his cathedral
an equal divinity
she is
Asominate Nov 2019
The darker darkness:
All that's there's to be found.
I hark my harness
For you, I'm pleasure-bound.

The darkest darkness;
Of the beyond, I yearn.
I loathe your caress,
You leave me here to burn.


The loneliness consumes me,
I give of you my love.
You treat me as a ******,
I never feel at home.

Distorted sorts of beauty:
What our friendships are made of
But because it's my duty
Ignorance goes unknown.


Is nothing wrong?
These friendships are one-sided!
I play along,
I can't seem to fight it...
Tanay Sep 2019
Darkness divine,
walk beside me.
Can we revive
what we don't see?

Through misty eyes,
we see the lies
that they disguise.
Such fallacy!

Obsessed with the shade of the night,
Blinded by the fear of the light.
Can anyone tell me oh why?
Why do we pretend to not see?

Everything's an illusion in the broad daylight.
Confusion created by the distorted lies.
Haunting us every day and every night.
Truth is an ideological sacrifice.








Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2019.
All Rights Reserved.
I have tried to do a few things in this poem, let's see if you can spot them.


Hint: Look at the metaphors, progression, flow and the syllables.
Silverflame May 2019
Like many before me
the mirror is my enemy
it shows me things I don't want to be
it shows me a twisted image of reality

It haunts me from within
by planting hoaxes under my skin
burned to my core is the malicious grin
hatched from the depths of my mirror twin
Miss Fit Apr 2019
There are days when the music is too loud
And the grass looks too green
There are mornings when the **** crows too proud
And mama's cheerful wakeup call sounds too mean

There are days when my dreams seem too blury
When past nightmares seem too scary
There are mornings when my goals are too high
And my arms are too tired to reach for anything but the nigh

There are days when my head is too heavy to lift
When even my eyelids are too heavy to lift
There are mornings when my eyelashes are forced to sweep
My cheeks and be drenched in the tears I weep

There are days when I wake up and wish I had stayed asleep
Remembering how I didn't sleep last night counting sheep
The drowsy feeling of last night lapses into the insomnia of today
And the dreams of yesteryear bounce off my head like a faded light ray

Only on those days when the sweet music doesn't speak to my soul
And the green of the grass might as well be grey,
Do I shamefully and pitifully wallow
In the sweet, sticky, dry tears on my pillow

Only on those mornings when the **** crows continuously, monotony its tone
And mama calls for me to wake up, a few hours after my first wink, in a
voice that's a slow, dull, monotone
Do I shamefully and pitifully wallow
In the sweet, sticky, dry tears on my pillow

Miss Fit
If you've ever cried yourself to sleep thinking that by daylight you'll be okay, just to wake up crying still...then you'll understand.
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