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Lark Train Jun 2016
Singing with a stolen voice
Borrowed tongue, the song of choice
Would have to be
Of ice and fire majesty.

To run from here on others' feet
A differed meter, with which to meet
A girl whom I've known before
Though now we drink and gamble more.

Her persona, then, was gently sore;
I see none of the scars we bore
As children, though now I see
The scars she left now complete me.
Kitsugi is the Japanese tradition of mending broken pottery with gold, accentuating the cracks and scars.
anneka May 2016
I carved you out of marble and stone
but I think it is midas in your blood
and the back of my hands are bruised
from all the years I’ve tried to let go


you still own me without even trying
my tongue is tied in cherry knots
when they told me to soften the
centre to make it easier to swallow,
but then they did not know you


the sea is black with all the blood I’ve spilt
and distance only amplifies the pain, when
where I am only requires liquid luck to
get to where you are; the spirits, they kiss
my eyelids and paint our past gold


the same years that destroyed me glorify
you. you. you. you. the mantra in my
head, the miracle that rose again you
measure each pulse in my blood as I
repent


of the one I have loved so much more
than all of those who came before, yet
you know I never drink with the intention
of leaving, only of love –


only for you.

(a.h.z)
leinstinct May 2016
Arrogance and it's pedestrians
The one who brags gold but has mere dust  
The lives based on apareance
The souls that are numb
Their own gamble gone wrong
No time for withdrawal
Symptoms that you are allready dead
No sense of a passion
Love is just a name
Used too casualy as a casualty
Love should be so pure ,
but it fell into routine
Decevious are our inhabitated feelings
Dependence on the material
Living out of conditons
Superficiality is just another demon
The difference is too few
The common and the many
The cycle eats us up
It gobles our dreams and hopes
To a future with nothing to cherish
Seth Milliman May 2016
So why do you say it with such a disdained voice?
Is it not beggars choice that reveals thee?
Do you aim to hurt in return?
Not knowing another way to be kind,
Why do one thing and say another?
Are your promises nothing more than dust in the wind?
Your claim to some enlightened state,
While the reality of you exists oppositely.
You cannot fathom the consequences of the projection you put on and take off,
Alls well that may end well,
But with your choices will you?
Alan S Bailey May 2016
None can write a story
more vibrant, more in touch
with love than the human heart,
brimming with a form of spirit
that emits a glow not unlike the
flame does, small, still the fire it starts.
Unpopular as my ideal may seem,
not unlike an endless stream,
we would choose to seek further,
deeper, though we may suffer,
we will not stop until we've found
a machine that is "greater" than any
emotion or natural love around.
Zongo May 2016
Sweetest desires mired by addiction did we **** are dreams for just another fix alone the silence fills the void outside another day I avoid .

Sunday night another full moon it's speaks to the depths yet lingers in the back alleys I here.

**** the eyes that view cause the need out weighs my truest sense .
Pain will feed you and me I simply prefer to starve .

Lets dance to the graveyard in ignorance of the truth .
I choose not to see for I am far from blind .

It will all **** you just the same.


Its all in the moments and you know them a tune I seldom recall did I ever care the truth is so easy to see

Night will paint the portrait we will grow to embrace know your vices well for they will bury you as they did I.

Another's song will play but echo of tragedy all the same.
David DeMille May 2016
railroad tie crucifixions
death of the working man
pinned down hands
dry desert prayers
empty and vast

an idol on the rise
tv dreams and corporate schemes
a ****** crown of broken homes
marching through cities
a real new years parade

big business charts rise
as the sky starts to fall
young women want equality
young men are sick of playing pretend
where are the real guns
I never told you that I was always good.
Nor do I told you that I was always true.
fatin May 2016
babe
i thought it was me
the girl in your dreams
--through your lonely sleep
the one you held so close to your chest
i thought it was me
--you're feeling for

behind all my thoughts was all your thoughts about her
Julia Mae May 2016
89.
i'm doing you a favor
don't be sad, don't even pretend
you and i both know that you are not
you're in love with the idea
of not feeling lonely
you may hold me but you don't feel me
and you may kiss me but you don't taste me
and you may say
all of these nice things
when the clouds become too grey
but you and i both know
that you don't like storms
and i can't always be sunshine
try as i might
and believe me, i tried
i tried to be
a picture painted golden
perfectly, and so elegantly
but there's dirt underneath my fingernails
which you ignore
you think that you can clean me
you want to make me so pure

so don't be sad, don't even pretend
you knew as well as i did
that this was a charade
and it had to end
i confronted the dark curtains
hanging low over us
you looked right past
i was the courageous one
i was the one that stopped wearing my heart on my sleeve
i was the one that knew we were both just lonely
"Love" that is built out of loneliness.
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