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Steven Boston Jun 2020
I care not for the boxed city behind the walls
Look to the white sheeted hills where I stand
In all my emerald glory ready to release my fiery terror upon the ones who stupidly scorned

Ostrasised for my peculiarity

'Fire breathing' they shouted
'Witch' they chanted

What do they know of being different..
Nothing

My cold wet hand holds my burning-orb
Fate will release its hand on this dark dark night

Sheep to the slaughter
Sheep to the slaughter
Fantasy piece
Janice Feb 2020
I took a hit to fly away that day
I should of known the high wont last
Because when the crash came
Like a fast train
The dripping rain stopped
The flashing lights drined
And i passed out for 3 whole days
In a puddle of freezing rain
That was my skin
That was my brain

I woke up in a full body shake
Need another hit just to stay awake
To speed me up to keep me sane
Maybe ill at least remember my name
Or maybe this is all a game

And thats a thought
My brain can't shake
My whole life is
An endless earthquake
All my emotions are becoming fake
The high is the only taste i take
Driving me to keep up the pace

I need more to get the same effect
My mind hurts, i need a rest
Gotta stay high to keep at my best
With the crash comes
The crippling distress
Of all my thoughts
Rushing and pressed
Into my consciousness
Im out of breath
Everytime i do this
Im nearing my death
Janice Feb 2020
A peaceful, calm, and quiet place
A respite from, this crazy haze
Silent whispers - from afar
Shes too drifted to hear them call
Out to her, from reality
Her comatose tranquility
Surrounds her mind,
In foggy clouds
Protects her from her memories
She doesn't need to understand
Nor realize what is happening
As she slowly drifts, off to sleep
Never to come back
To me.
Janice Feb 2020
It was the night she was murdered

The shadows clung tight to the walls

Whispering of evens that left them appalled

Behind the corner the little girl stalls

Knife in her hand makes her feel tall

Taller than mom who lies on the floor

Pools of her blood the carpet absorbs

Mom causing pain has long been ignored

The little girls terrors

Forever no more
crybaby Jan 2020
I ponder on the fictional love
that splatters on the television
as my tears spill because I will never
experience that love
I am not in a movie
Poet X Jul 2019
falling in love with a fictional character
is the most honest love there is .
you don't fall in love with faces,
or a body or what they possess.

you fall in love with a heart,
you fall in love
with a soul .
even if its not real .
missanthropic Apr 2019
A sunflower with a drop
of oily yellow so feeble
but one gets lost in the
happiness it brings

I haven't ever known
a happiness similar to this.
In the days of my childhood,
I used to sit in a room alone
with the vast pages of words and alphabet

I've learned them so well
Yet no matter how I arrange
I'm not convinced that I can
Properly express all of the things
I wish to say to you.

At sunset, when light fades in to darkness,
the gray that spreads around makes one ask,
'what if the moon wouldn't appear tonight?'

I've learned that the moon, it always appears.
But if you turn your back to it
You will miss the small things that it shines on

Like the sunflower that has been planted
from the coldest of all the winters
and from darkness of all the odds
have put against it in lack of sunshine

There, it waits.
Plenty in solitude and
protected by solace.
Ready for you to water it
and teach the warmth
of the world that you have provided,
so it can bloom under an autumn moon
From the perspective of a fictional character I've created, this was a poem drafted after the character, who was supposed to be infertile, found out she was pregnant. This was how she presented the news to her partner. The sunflower representing the child.
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