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Laokos Feb 28
patterned love responses
spiraling outward from
the chest in search
of hearth and
hemlock to
soothe the brittle
bones of a
generation lost
to time.

I remember a feeling
once felt in
the spacious quality
of my life
in its infancy.

a 'coo' to my
mother--her face
beaming through
the unknown
harshness of life
yet to touch me.

father was out
working, adding
more and more
points of stress to
his life to provide
for the seeds
he sewed in the
soil of his youthful
ignorance.

adulthood snuck
up on me too and
now its too late to
go back.

these days
the only coup
that will save me
is the one
I perpetrate
against myself.
the one that
corrodes my beliefs
and illuminates
the extent of their
misconceptions about
the world and
what it means
to be me.

loyal are the lashes
that lick my flesh
serving the blood
that drips and
flows to the
soil of my own
wasted youth.

all I can do now
is look forward
to the unknown
that looms ahead;
terrifying and promising
failure and change
alike.

pray to your altars
and cry to the
invisible mute gods;

they will answer
in kind in the
laughter of children
playing upon
your spent life.

and so it goes--
life eats life
and mother's die
too.

use your voice
while you have
it--speak of clouds
and storms that
broke you, of winter
and the living
silence you've endured.

praise be to the
broken and the
weary of heart, for
in the breaking is
the great gift
of life

and what you
become after each
shattering is nothing
short of your
endless potential.
Melody Mann Feb 26
They stand like folding memories,
rising to bid the conscious farewell.
in this illusive state she ponders,
praying for the retention of a familiar.
sigh.
each exhale releases an ache,
for its return is unclear.
holding onto a thread she walks,
following a trial of fear and wishes;
together. it's a promise.
JasFow Feb 25
I've stopped trying
Not in the way that causes you
to fear that I won't be here in the morning
Rather in the sense that I no longer
constantly strain myself to be someone else
I'd cry myself into naps that brought nightmares
My mind would fade into a fog
I couldn't find my way out of  
Staring at a tree that slanted in the field
that became the neighbors new home
Silent screams stayed loud in my head
Bringing migraines I couldn't calm

It wasn't until last month that I realized all the pain
that's followed me, every year, since I left
has been carried along by myself, without wanting
Trying to keep alive the persona
of the perfect daughter
The precious mind of a broken survivor
Trying to make believe that the girl
I introduced you to was real
Trying to manifest my mental illness to no longer exist
Bringing to life a pain worse
than the physical bruises I hid so well

Tried and failed
What's left is who was trying to not drown
Who hid away in fear of rejection
In fear of being smothered in hate again
Rising to the surface
This is my real reflection
I'm telling you now
Stopped trying
Just be
I feel like I'm seeing myself for the first time and understanding true love. I love myself.
Suffering

                    in silence

                                        is the world's

                                                        ­          most addictive

                                                               ­                                  substance.


        pills, drinks, syringes, lines... are just the Tools of Suffering
                for people whose prime preoccupation has become
                                   self-imposed silent suffering.

but Yoouu

                     are NOT on
  
                                                 that crap!
                          

                                                    So
        ­                                            Sis!
                                                    Stop!
      ­                                              Suffering!
                                                    Soundlessly!­
I message from myself to myself. I've never been an addict but I have sat in bad situations, too hopeless to Heroine myself out. Self, let's NOT do that again!
Flame Feb 22
They say girls are like flowers,
But I’m unlike any flower
That you have ever known

Flowers bloom in the spring,
And use the sunlight
As a light source
And a means to grow

I bloom in the darkness
Wrapped underneath my covers,
Beside my pillows,
In a room,
Locked from the inside,
So that I
Can be alone

Flowers need water
From streams and lakes,
From clouds through rain,
After which a vibrant rainbow,
Always awaits

My water comes from pain,
But has the power to heal
As it falls
From the eyes,
As tears,
Drop by drop,
To the roots
Beneath the surface,
And far below

Make no mistake,
Like all flowers
I bloom,
But I operate beyond constructs
Like seasons
Or time
Or weather,
Of the physical

My journey is that of
Patience,
And growth
That can only be seen
By the beholder,
And to those
The beholder
Decides to show
They were wick-thin folk,
           ready to burn it all down,
as everyone gathers round
                                                 the flame;

probably too young to play the game
they were in,
    and as I said, wick-thin:
with no foundation,
                                    the pervasive alienation
feeding their weakness: ingratiating.

So, don't stand to close to the fire,
      step back a little,
                                     admire
breathe      perspire
there are many voices making up the choir.
For those whom shall not be named, struggling to grow..
Ron Armstead Feb 21
Lie
Lie to me. Whisper untruths in the darkness, and spin the tallest of tales when the veracity would serve just as well.

Lie to me. Keep me as far away from certainty as day is from the night and as love is from disinterest.

Lie to me with silence, mystery and the  inconvenience of absence where truthful glances may find sanctuary.

Lie to me, that my heart may remain unbroken and your conscience unsullied for as long as fantasy remains a potent salve for life's bothers

Lie to me until lies are the only truths I can digest and reality is a world where I can no longer dwell.

Lie to me until those threadbare contrivances will no longer contain the light and my foolishness is revealed.

Lie to me until I believe and joy once more finds fertile soil in my being

Lie to me until  the truth is all I hope for,  all I will hear and all I will accept.

Rea' 21
Eric Bergeron Feb 19
6:30AM
I wake up, completely exhausted, my mind running a million miles a minute

I am alive...

As my legs swing over the side of the bed and my feet hit the ground, I slowly rise up

I am strong
I am alive

I wipe the sleep from my eyes, preparing myself to face the day ahead
Give it your best shot world. Whatever you throw at me, I will overcome.
For I am alive, I am strong, and I am a warrior.
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