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Kaazmeya May 2014
Smooth porcelain skin
lungs, a vibrant pinkish hue
The crux of the problem
enamored by the image of her
indifferent to the soul of her
unflinching in his deconstruction of her
a terminal case
without restrict
he breathes in crisp tainted air
exhaling in a roar of satisfaction
this poem was inspired by NBC Hannibal
Daylight 4U2C Apr 2014
He bit the curb.
Does that make you disturbed?
She laughed at tears.
Does that deepen your fears?
They don't know when to stop.
There's no stop signs in this town.
If it's you, life's sad.
But if it's them they shouldn't make a sound.
Some don't fit in,
and they just can't help it,
no matter where they been.
I guess no one really developed it.

Whom I kiddin?
Some people are fake,
on the outside their only,
the character they make.

"Who wants to run like me?
Who wants to get away?
I look around,
but they all seem A-okay."
Well if he judged you,
He'd seem to be just fine.
But you'd never guess,
He's scared of being left behind.
If she beat you and spit in your face,
you'd figure she was spoiled,
but her life was just so misplaced.

Why do they have to smile?
Why do they have to drown?
Why do they have to go away,
after smashing into cold, hard ground?

I'd say you need a lesson,
but you've probably had one too.
Stop being arrogant,
if there's one thing that you do.

They've seen the grey clouds,
and you've seen the rain.
And surprisingly we've all gone insane.
So why drive us mad?
Why call us bad?
Make us sad?
What have I done?
Nothing,
but yet I'm being pushed.
Off my feet, off the swings, off the air, off the edge.
By you, by them, by me, by life?
I'm going to stand here,
and proclaim to the skies.
"For once, let this life be mine!"
"And please vanish the outer lies!"
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Daylight 4U2C Apr 2014
I want to run.
Be free.
Be the little girl they see in me,
but plot-twist happen frequently,
opening your eyes to things you didn't see.
Burning the cheerful into your mind.
If only I didn't once leave that behind.
If I could return to those naive, fun days.
But fun was out and sad was in,
so I figured "well okay."
I dived right in,
singeing my skin,
turning me to the pit.
I was told,
"don't follow your instincts",
so I guess this is what I get.
Now I sit alone,
a pitiful lump of coal,
as a dog without bone,
or soccer ball with no goal.
I'm heading to "God knows where"
on a train called "Oopsy Days,"
and when I arrive,
they will all be amazed.
For I am the writer
who will give them a story,
for I am a lighter,
and my flame gives me glory.
D Apr 2014
I sat in a room full of people today
I didn't or barely knew at all
I sat there the whole time thinking, wondering,
Staring blankly at the wall

I jotted down a few notes here and there,
Mostly nonsense with no real purpose,
Now here is the interesting part my dear,
Someone else sat there, you've got three guesses

It wasn't Ronald of the McDonald
Or Mickey Mouse of the club house
One more guess, Oh! You've got it,
It was a couple, the very one I wrote about

My god, were they ever happy
I ******* envied them, hated their smiles
It made me sick to my stomach to watch them laugh
And I had to watch them for a long while

You may wonder what made me so angry?
Well I suppose I forgot to mention,
My boyfriend was also present in the room
But instead of happy all we felt was tension

An old routine I'm quite sick of
But the only reason for it is me
Knowing this while watching them
Well, it was plain misery

Oh lets play one more guessing game!
Come on, can you guess what I'll do next?
Well I'm going over to my boyfriends house
And I'm going to talk, talk, talk off his head

*Wish me luck, I hope this goes well...
It's actually more complicated than I make it seem
01
her thoughts
exploded in her mind
like dying stars

(m.l)

— The End —