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Aprajita Jul 2018
Your roots is your foundation
Don't droop
Stand onto your roots
Believe in your your self, get rid of boundaries... Try to stand onto yourself and your knowledge, as I am also trying to.
Katelynn Vens Apr 2018
The face
Bent, taunt, contorted
The smile
Torturing, teasing, abhorrent

The body
Deformed, beastly, unsightly
The aura
Malevolent, sinister, formidable

It.
Something that lingers.
In wait.
Preying.
A basic interpretation of my sleep paralysis experience
Quinntin Bravo Dec 2017
It’s those words that I’m afraid of the most
The ones you haven’t yet spoken
Latching onto me like the veins that run through me
Circulating through me again and again
******* both my time and emotions out of me
Sooner than I can process, one grows into a swarm
Making it impossible to resist the current
But once I seem to be drowned by the flood
Once I’m on my last few breaths
Everything drains
Left with not even a drop
Casey Dandy Nov 2017
You feel your chest heave
But breath does not enter your lungs.
As air flows around your balloons and into to your stomach,
your lungs scream for your gut to share.

Your windpipe feels like less of a pipe
and more of a plug--
blocking the life force from entering,
quickening your heartbeat.

All because it's 8:13,
which means:
two hours until sleep
two hours to fill
I need to shower, still,
two full hours
two free hours
work tomorrow
but first, two whole hours
to do...
what?
Shower,
right.
Two hours.
Only two hours.
Gotta make 'em count!
But how?
Two hours to fill
I need to shower still
two full hours
two free hours

Nervousness, why?
Abstract, human-constructed time.

Two whole hours still
Only two hours to fill.
Leandra Sep 2017
I can't breathe
gasp
I feel the water fill my lungs
panicking
I can't see anything around me
Searching
It's overwhelming me
screams
It's surrounding me
breathes in
I hit my back on something
opens eyes
Something soft
breathes slowly
I'm okay
smiles lightly
It was only a dream
Nightmares.......
nora Jul 2017
I go about my mornings
covered in the fog of my paranoia
drenched in the rain of my worries
enveloped in the snow of my bitter cold thoughts.
(strained by the sun
aching for the moon)
Contemplating staying put and doing nothing at all
(That sounds good to me)
I pick up my morning coffee
(Old habits don't die without a fight, I’ve grown to know)
I’m fine for a few hours
The fog slowly dissipates
The putrid smell of rain still lingers on my skin
The snow melting into a warm dampness in my mind
(an uncomfortably familiar feeling)
sticking to the hard to reach surfaces.
My day drudges forward, with ease.
(not for long)
-------------------
By noon time the fog circles back
I’m instantly freezing.
The sun is playing tricks on me
telling my body I’m in imminent danger.
She hides away beyond the fog, like a coward
taking no prisoners.
silently applauding herself for she, again, successfully,
burns me.
-------------------
By mid-day she's on a rampage
forcing me back into the storm,
I’m drowned out by the rain
(I fear him most of all)
(he reminds me of nothing but my deepest fears)
Loneliness
Bitterness
Happiness
Weakness
They capture me and hold me tight.
I’m stuck.
---------------------
By evening time
I try to level with her.
I’m choking on the thick fog. It’s taking over.
I’m shaking now.
(I can’t breath, I’m going to die)
I start to calm down, with no warning.
All of a sudden, the air enters my lungs again.
The sun, still kind, in her light, asks for forgiveness.
I grant her none.
The moon suddenly rears her beautiful head.
“Darling” she caresses my cheeks.
I instantly ease into the touch.
Able to breath, with the sun out of sight,
I take myself in.
I’m broken, tormented, tired, lost, but alive.
(by night fall I am at ease with my inconsolable world.)
I decide to sleep it off.
kevin hamilton May 2017
lost sunday
i travelled light on cemetery rd.
flinching at every sound
of the whistling oaks
coming after me

i was sick but i didn't know
hushed by the fire
on the horizon
and the footsteps at my back
through crystal snow

believe me, i was sick
i was a drunken punk
in the soy fields
sleeping giant  
in a ring of salt
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