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moss Sep 2015
dear,
beloved
clouds bring me
your deluge for I am
parched. this well has gone
dry, and I have nothing left to give,
so water me with your life and let me
live lushly. let my leaves become dark green
instead of this dry brown that crumbles at any
touch. pump my wilted stems with energy
to power my brilliant growth towards the
shinning blue sky that will gratefully
occur after the rain.
Manisha Uniyal Sep 2015
Sitting on chair
Thoughts piling high to the roof
Crushing paper to *****
Not listening to the words

Concentric vicious circles of deep desires
Rhythmic marching death of wisdom
Blank sheets torn and flying in air
Resembling the state of puzzled sense

Motives of physical being is unfulfilled
Ink of heart and brain is dried
Leaving only stains of memory
When Stabbed with a pen




Manisha
It is that state of mind where you want to write but your brain is so dried up to spill anything .
Jellyfish Aug 2015
Laying in bed
Empty head
Dry Ramen
Occurs often
Tiredness
Nairi Kalpakian Jul 2015
Splits ends and a raging wildfire
Connected by a general lack of control (and dryness)
Are carrying on with such a rage untethered
While they sprout and exist, they give me a false sense of
Dominance
Every bit of hair and skin on my body gets to be there on my word
And as I play God I put all my effort
To pluck out the ones that deserve to suffer
Exposed spots and thinning hair, dilapidated as scorched earth
I know now how God feels his work is never done
In his image, I destroy to create
celey Jul 2015
is it a bad thing
to think about not existing?

you're all better off without me
i decided
but you quickly replied with
that's all just in your head

if that's true then why why why
do you leave me to dry
my own tears as you sit there
and act like you give a care

why why why do you
let me feel so blue
stop smiling at everyone else
and notice you're so dense

so so dense to my pain
Meg B Jun 2015
Like the white of lightening,
Pulsating its veins against the
Angry purple sky;
Like the wild claps of thunder,
Beating tirelessly against
Windows and doors;
Like the furious scattering of rain,
Throwing punches at the
Asphalt of the streets and sidewalks;
Like a violent summer storm,
You rip my insides apart with
The force of your winds and
****** me up in your
Unpleasant storminess,
And I hate you as much as
The sun hates the rain clouds
Stealing away its glow
While madly loving you as
The flowers love the rain storms
For calming to a drizzle,
Leaving their floral thirsts quenched.

Yet,
I remain dry,
Thirsty,
Desperate for more rain
That never seems to come
In the desert where you left me
Alone.
Or rather,
Where I lead myself
To escape your monsoon.
moss Jun 2015
there was surely no doubt
that his eyes were a drought
both of them lacked a spout
for no fire to put out
would ever make him pout
so all he does is flout
and sometimes hang about
but he will never sprout
Inspired by a random thought I had that, in a way, tears put out the fire in our hearts when it's scorching our souls.
MsAmendable Jun 2015
Red paint dries on a tissue
Slowly
The same rush hue
Glazes imperceptibly
Gently losing shine
And carefully dulls without change
And softly hardens until dry,
When you can touch it without fear
of red fingers, red clothes, red smears
But still, wasted paint on a tissue
Will be thrown away without notice
And still dry red.
SøułSurvivør May 2015
10W

plants
in
the
driest
soil
always
have
the
d
e
e
p
e
s
t

**r­
o
o
t
s
Cheering myself up

---
Andrew Name Apr 2015
rain dogs
lightn bolts
wet shirt
at forty five

pants soak
holes float
big like sky
the red sign

black tea
death sticks
all sunk
I hate it dry
forty five: degrees
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