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Astrid Love Oct 2020
Pay attention to the fascination,
The fascination is the most endless trance of all.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the fascination,
Gently it goes - the sempiternal, the perpetual, the long.

I saw the youthful emotionalism of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the passion.
Now vernal is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the passion is immature.

One afternoon I said to myself,
"Why isn't the concept smaller?"
Are you upset by how grownup it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the conception so older?

Just like an imaginative expression, is the imagination.
Does the imagination make you shiver?
does it?
Cloud Giante Oct 2020
It’s not so scary down here
Rock bottom has a queer feel
Pressures of a reality you deny
Become too obviously real
Eyes pierce the veil seeking light yet
You’re no longer the passive observer
Down here you’re forced to face yourself
Don’t look away lest you be the loser
Just writing my thoughts
Sasha Paulona Oct 2020
"The simple truth is that the truth does not exist;
it all depends on a person's point of view"
Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate
Raeann Sep 2020
Didn't sleep much
on suicide watch I tell my coworkers
being I good friend they think
who'd a thought the friend I was watching was me
I'm 31 and its gets dark sometimes
Alaina Moore Aug 2020
Remember, remember the 5th of November, and remember the point of the plot.

That blind obedience and fear of others is what spoiled the ***.
This is referencing V for Vendetta which is a graphic novel/ movie that takes place in 2020. It tells a story of sickness that killed a lot of people and lead people into a fear driven frenzy that resulted in a fascist government that controlled free speech and art. Among other things.

Who knew it was a true story.
S Levy Aug 2020
MY INNER SELF. I FLOAT. I USED TO SEE YOU ON SOME OTHER SHORE. IT IS NOT ONLY THE VIRUS THAT ERODE OUR TOUCH. IT WAS ALSO THE MOOR OF YOUR EYES..."BE IN THE NOW" THEY TELL ME... CANNOT, BECAUSE THE NOW IS ME, WITH A BUNCH OF FIREFLIES INSTEAD OF A HEART.
"WAKE UP IN A MIDDLE OF A BREAKDOWN"
Jordan Gee Aug 2020
I hear the frogs are singing,
meadows anointed in lyrical
benediction.
In a golden hour the fields are
sacrosanct - waiting for the hard water in a
drying fellowship:
keep your sights between the swirling moons -
the terminals extend to where we know not, for
the moisture may never come.
The song unfolds upon the face of
all the waters, the
fire apart from its origins and exiled -
something man may recognize within himself.
Sudden genesis and then divided, strewn
thin across the planting rows.
in the womb a germination abiding in peace
under the shadow of the Almighty.
then a birth into this world:
We heard the frogs were singing,
and saw the dogs were bleeding and
worrying the bones.
The gravel in my heart is enough to build
1000 chapels,
houses for worship without sacrifice.
So I sat upon the setting sun
counting my mistakes and
crossing my heart, for
long and hard is the way that from out of hell
leads up to light
and right now
all I smell is gun-smoke.
But the Heavens, they pale and deepen and pale and deepen,
and I recall that the devil hid the Trinity inside my heart.
I really did believe my destiny lay at the end of a braided rope.
But I remembered there is no
resurrection without a crucifixion.
Somewhere up ahead in all that dark and
all that cold
my ancestors are waiting by the fire.
are you going to **** me?
that depends, can you see me standing here?
Aditya Roy Aug 2020
Your song rejuvenates my heart
Your melody reminds me of the past
All of which have turned cold and dry
Like two worlds apart
When you sing to my soul
It really soothes it tonight
The withering flower inside
Grows a little higher and the petals a little longer
Please, stay with me at twilight
When you leave me for her
It is like we are
Two...
In one universe
Too close to ignore our love
So we forget about what is love
I hope you stay with me, tonight.
Anvillan Jul 2020
I’m just a girl from LA.
I was swapped like a small puppy between owners, some that
treated me like a pet, some like just another possession..
No one thinks of beauty as a curse but it has haunted me all my life.
Beauty seems to be associated with the ****** and men and women
alike feel entitled to use you for their own satisfaction. That was a lesson I learned early. I also learned the advantages of agreeing.
I got married at 16 only to escape, I was used and abused. We divorced fortunately.
While working at the factory somebody took my picture  and said I could make a living as a model. I let them take many photos over the years, many I was ashamed of. Again I was used for other people’s gains.,
The only person who ever accept me as me was Joe D. I actually loved him and he loved and respected me.
I made many movies, the “Misfits being my latest with Clarke, my hero.
People were drawn to me,
Presidents, senator’s, attorneys general.... not for me but for their personal use and gratification. They introduced me to drugs That make the day to day pain go away. I get no pleasure from what they demand of me, but the drugs make it bearable. He is coming tonight and I look forward to being detached from reality for a short time. I know I’ll be me again in the morning but the brief escape tonite is a blessing. More later...



We all know there was no later for Marylin. If she had lived and wrote a poem here’s what I think she would have wrote...

My life was an act, I never got to play myself.
I played the part out of necessity so often that I forgot who I was. A life of not being you is a life without the soul you were born with.
I search for me but am always obstructed by those saying who I should be. I yearn for the day that Marylin can be Norma Jean. I’d love to meet her, maybe tomorrow...
A guess at Marylin dairy and final poem...
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