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Jay M Jan 7
My words unspoken
Never leaving my quivering lips
Ricochet like bullets
Fading in and out
Only some manage to be free
Slipping into proper sound
Forming strange words
Most would rather not hear

The reason for never allowing the flood gates to open
Is for fear that they would never close
That they would be forced in such a way
That they would eventually betray all I hold dear
To fall upon the chancing ear
Or none but my own

- Jay M
January 6th, 2021
Wanting to speak but never making a sound...
If Heaven does exist,
I wonder if a sun shines there.

It seems an awfully cold place to me,
locked away behind those pearly gates,
supported by clouds.

I wonder if so much whiteness is good
for the soul, for the eyes, for the mind—

surely, there is some sort of fire up above
to balance that below.

I wonder if I would know the difference
between the heat of His love
and the heat of what He has created.

If Heaven does indeed exist,
I hope it is orange and yellow and red.
I hope it is warm.
preston Dec 2020
D Vanlandingham

Never more clear to me, than when the  rusted gate,
swung open  did I see the  great fullness, in the value
of choice  to suffer oneself into a place of substance--
forces pulling at me, unfelt.. realms crossed over into,
unscathed.

When she opened up her heart to me..
all Hell, broke loose


and I cant help, but wonder  if I was dreaming
https://youtu.be/4F9DxYhqmKw
I'm just your average joe who knows what the **** is going on
And I've been traveling for god knows how long
I was once standing in front of the pearly gates
But I somehow ended up in Babylon
I don't know how I ended up here
But I swear I'll crawl my way back
Back to the pearly gates
Just for chance
To get inside that lovely place.
Created by me on February 8th, 2020
Priyam Jun 2019
A babbling beauty
That's what she was
A damsel who dared
To speak her heart
Frolicking furiously
Through the gates of hell, she
Gave great new meanings
To malice and mutiny
rgz Apr 2019
I had to hear the sound of the zip on that dress
I asked her back to mine for cold coffee and cigarettes
She said she doesn't smoke but she'd have one to impress
and she isn't one for coffee
So sorry, I digress

Before she sat down all these lines coalesced
with secrets and lies, I try to confess
she catalysed a crystal convalescence
her garnet eyes sparking wildfires in my chest
my lungs are so tight they could rival her dress
Stung in the heart for kicking the nest
took a shot in the dark
Again, I digress

A small crowded room - as small rooms tend to be
but for everyone there, she was all I could see
the picture of perfection, framed perfectly
in a dress designed to buckle my knees
Crowded c'rod'd quickly becomes we
and I was trying to get her on my settee
Is it a metaphor if I meant it literally?
Excuse me, once more it seems
I digress

I just had to get her out of that dress
mess up her make up
make her hair a mess
kiss her when she wakes up
and watch her get dressed
to undress her again
exalted by the scent
bask in the sound
of the zip on that dress
while I sip on cold coffee
and smoke cigarettes
The story isn't in order so it's automatically better, right?
Like pulp fiction
E B K Feb 2019
there wasn't something
but there also
wasn't nothing

and now the gates to my heart have flown open
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