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neth jones Apr 2018
...and 'oh my God' did I cry
I sparked like I was made of knives
and it carried me
I was adopted
It took me and I gave up me
easily
This had become dimensional
Life seamed
I was played
I was playing
I was addressing reasoning
and burying it fiercely and fare
Pounding clay over it
and enhancing my surroundings
content and without trust
Restart
Welled and sad
Sick excited
A primal plug
Connected
Theses words seem borrowed, adolescent and unpracticed
But they are a correct description of the manner in which I cried for the first time as an adult
Sometime between the age of 24 and 28
mumu Jul 2018
Today will be my day!
Everything will be okay
I will not astray
I will make my way
Anxiety will breakaway
Only happiness will stay
This will be my headway
My life will never be a cliché
I'll live my life until I decay
Say hooray! Today is the start of my first job. Though I'm starting as a trainee, I'm excited with a little bit of anxiousness but hey, ite still my first job so let's celebrate! To people outvthee, remember, every day is your day so heads up and smile. :)
Gale L Mccoy May 2018
for once in my life
i am excited for summer
for i will not be forced
to stand in its sweltering heat
instead i will let the sun
burn my shoulders
on my own terms
Lexi May 2018
A boy, a smile, a thought.

Your sweet words electrocute my walls that hide how weird I am. Leaving me babbling and embarrassing myself.

A text, a joke, a laugh

Your humour and smart-assy retorts I’ll ask what your doing right now and you will explain in detail how you are sitting and whether or not it’s comfy.

Eye contact, funny face, shaking head

Oh sweet boy you don’t yet understand the game. I stick my tongue out at you and you are supposed to copy. But instead you smile and laugh and look away.
I don’t know what this is but I haven’t written in a while so I need you to write something.
Brenda Mukisa Apr 2018
She turned over in her sleep
but she could not
she just could not push past the hard body behind her
then she remembered where she was and smiled.
he still had his hand around her
she tried to turn and peep at him
he breathed peacefully in his sleep
but even then ,
he still remembered to hold her tighter
he adjusted his position and re-aligned his body with hers.
to pull her closer into him
as though just holding her was not enough
his alarm sounded the first time
and sadness swept over her
the moment had ended, but she was wrong
over and over, his alarm sounded
but he constantly turned to put it off and held her closer
the smile on her face was as though it was painted on her
consistent and not leaving
just like her heart bit and the pulsing behind her
the sun rays kept passing through the curtain
the hours went by
she felt hot, but couldn't move
that was their story.

And that was enough.
First poem in the about us series.
Aidan Derocher Apr 2018
cinder rains from the sky,
a past life immolated.

my soul was ignited,
by the fire in her eyes.

the structure built is now aflame,
crumbling to oblivion.

and like all change,
there is accompanying fear.

are her feelings real? are mine? does she regret asking? why did she ask? how do i act? am i not caring enough? am i too caring? am i scaring her off? does she really want to spend time with me?  am i fit for such a blessing? can i ever meet her expectations? leave her satisfied? happy?

i don't know
i don't know
i don't know

but what i do know,
is that there is a sulfuric cloud looming,
ready to engulf me,
if i am to ever fall
Cassandra Tucas Mar 2018
Yes, I write bad poems when I'm sad
I prefer silence to comfort me
Yes, I write bad poems when I'm mad
I prefer my own words to scream it out

Yes, I write bad poems when I'm happy
I prefer solitary than fake company
Yes, I write bad poems when I'm excited
I prefer obscure of the thrill

Yes, I write bad poems when I'm stressed
I prefer words to heal me than pills
Yes, I write bad poems when I'm tired
I prefer sleepless night than a bad dream

Yes, I write bad poems when I'm depressed
I prefer assurance than un-followed advises
Yes, I write bad poems
I prefer silence in this world that will never stop talking
Rahama Mar 2018
I'm so happy
I could grow a tail right now
I'm so belated
I could die without regrets right now
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