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blue mercury Feb 2017
my hands are always cold
but not when they're interlaced
with yours.

something about us is right.
i'm drowning in your light.

i never thought drowning
would be this nice.
i'm falling in love
Peter Balkus Feb 2017
The hand
which plucked the flower,
will wilt too.
Solaces Feb 2017
Like the insect to the light, quite the opposite here.
In this duskless place, in this non shadow realm, they find the new shade beautiful.  
But why?
More and more of them were filling the room.  
Seeking out the darkest of dark.
The shadow of shadows.
The shade of shades.   I then realize that these little beautiful creatures are looking for the source.  They are looking for me.

I run about the room from corner to corner.  The little pattern shaped insect like creatures were getting closer and closer to me.  I did not want to touch such a beautiful being made of infinite light.  I don't know what my shadow touch would do to them. Would it **** them? Would it hurt them?  But then I find myself feeling as though they want to be touched. As if my darkness is their salvation.  The former light room now looked as if a bucket of black paint exploded inside of a white room.  There was shadow steps everywhere as well as shadow marks on the walls. It was not long after that The room was almost completly black with darkness.  The light insect like creatures looked like stars in space. I was the darkness they rolled on.   It soon got to the point where I was cornered.  The room was now filled with these beautiful creatures.  All of which knew I was in the corner of the room.  It was the only corner where light was left. As soon as that part of the room dimmed they all flew into me.  They swirled and spiraled around me.  It was amazing! It reminded me of a galaxy.  I opened my hand and one of them landed on it. There was then a beautiful shine and sound.  Then a voice uttered two words.  " Thank you."   The creature was gone.  Then I felt someone hold my hand!
It shows that true light here does not exist.
Colm Feb 2017
I am the last hand on the earth
To compound and push down
To press the headache as it sounds
And fade it out

Away into the nothingness which awaits its new master
I am standing upside-down
Twisted inside until out
Living in the unlivable town

For I am the last hand on the earth
And as it stands I'm falling down
Upside-down
Dhaye Margaux Feb 2017
She got much gifts from open hands
Those golden hearts from foreign land
But though they came from farther place
Their hearts are closer, oh such a grace
~
Somehow it's good to take and keep
Yet there are hands that do not sleep
They are not tired of sharing gifts
Helping others with no buts and ifs
~
She loves to see herself like them
Sharing her gifts, her precious gems
Even the gifts she has today
Her skills and talents, that's her bouquet
~
And now she finds another dream
Like mending rips from hem to hem
She wants to share her open hands, too
With songs of hope for me and you
For those who came as blessings to others...
Nicole Bataclan Jan 2017
I'm fine
When I am
I'm fine
When I am not
I'm fine
Whenever I am asked.

I am tormented
On the brink of madness
If I go through
Yet another sleepless night
Whenever I am asked,
I'm fine.

We talk more
Smile and joke
They are
The wrong words.

I am worried
Ashamed of breaking
I am crying for help
I will say
I'm fine
Instead.

I'm fine
When I am
I'm fine
When I am not
I'm fine
When I am everything but.

The biggest lie
The truth behind
Listen,
I am not.
Alan S Bailey Jan 2017
Like the ring of a bell in the distance
some trance which in an instance
can seem like it lasts an eternity,
I embrace the natural wild just as much as I can,
I know it's not a normal thing
but life is short and I am happiest free.
Lost in the moonlight halo or entrenched
in active chaotic madness, it's all the
same to me. A vagabond, a fool,
I earned this by word of mouth alone,
never again truly kissed, scarred and yet my poor
living is sacred, there is no place I can call my own,
this all I am thinking as I drift off to sleep
for the very last time, as you hold my shaky hand,*
there is little I'd have left for my journey while
they take all they can that is left
of my world all for the sake of greed,
of nothing but selfish sentimentality,
I am already guilty, instantly proven guilty,
so for once let me be.
ㅡjatm Jan 2017
The moon is sitting
hauntingly beautiful
on her window
lovely wisps of pink scattered sky
glancing at her behind the trees
she imagines your hands
on her night skin
and she wants to write poetry
on your palm
she wants to write anything
about the oceans and the stars
and she wants it all
to mean something.

And tonight
she misses you so bad.
Emmy Jan 2017
I hope I make your hands tremble
Make your heart shake
Cause an earthquake in your veins
Come
Come
Let me in
To hold your heart
To hold your hand
Whisper taps on the window panes of my mind
Drop like droplets
On your skin
Bump, bump
Thump
Do I make your heart race?
Racing like the wind through barren standing silhouettes    
My hands warm in the radiance of your sunshine
Shine
Shine
Glitter glitch
Do I make your heart race? Your skin itch?
Sly, touch and smile
So soft, sensual
Your eyes speak melodies
Let me harmonize
To the breath your lungs breathe
Do I make your heart race?
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