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Chelsea Quigley Oct 2023
At last,
I reach the long-awaited shore.
I lay my body
On gleaming sands,
Rested,
Landed.

I open my arms out
As the skies greet me with
Glistening stars
Greeting me with their gaze,
Lying lost in a star-stricken daze.

Water begins to flow,
Aches begin to go,
Letting my thoughts calm,
Letting my heart slow.

Waves begin to break,
Body shivers and shakes
Though not for reasoning
Of pitiful heartache.

At Last,
I am mended by the sea,
Leaving my mind be,
Finally,
A wave to the soul I come to be.

At Last,
I leave the burden I once had,
Screaming cries for help,
Never heard or sought,
As I painfully fought.

Fought for love,
Fought for a souless sinner,
Fighting for life,
Living,
Coming out as a winner.

Never once did I cave
Nor leave no soul to save.
Never once did I writhe
In my monstrous cave.

But here I lay,
Ocean to bay,
I am free to roam.

I am finally home.
This is more of a healing poem! I wanted to write this on behalf of anyone who has fought themselves out of a toxic relationship, no matter if friends, family, or lovers. I am proud of you and want you to read this poem and have it close to your hearts. You have fought amazingly and I wish everyone who has ever experienced this pure happiness and healing, as I too have found it!
Amanda Kay Burke Oct 2023
Laughing so loudly
Breath short and scarce afterwards
Making jokes to share
Laughter truly is the best medicine
Kushal Oct 2023
I've been thinking about what love is...
And I've not a clue.

A home, safe from the tides that bash against shores?
Where one may rest a heavy head, without a need for alertness?

Or is it a challenge, one fought with an eager grin?
A back and forth where blades are forged sharper than before?

What of a mix? The two intertwined?
What or why? Oh, what and why?
When a tug beckons the heart
What does it mean?
I've not a clue.
Old timey phrasings feel more poetic and dramatic in my head, like an elegant performance set forth upon a stage, where chandeliers light a performance un-needing of further brightness.
Kat Pan Oct 2023
Slow and heavy
Ball of worry
My hair is falling
I should be starving
Happiness is the wind
All around but out of reach
I feel everything draining out of me
I want to lay down in the sun for a while
I want to remember I can smile
Time is happening all at once
Life is a second
So why do I suffer?
Self soothe like a mother
Find shelter, take cover
Pray the worst is over
Feeling anxious and worried
Savio Fonseca Oct 2023
I'm uploading My Dreams for Tonight.
When the Sun sets beyond the Sea.
Come forth, My Pretty Woman.
Wheresoever U may Be.
When I step into Light, next Morning.
I must feel your Warmth, on My Skin.
My Soul must brim with Happiness.
So there's a flutter in My Heart Within.
Life at times, can be a Monstrous Devil.
That may sail U on dying Streams.
Feelings are the Fabric to Our Souls,
I Fashion them out, with My Dreams.
Emotions are just like Wild Fires.
They have mystic powers to Destroy.
Sometimes they have the power to rebuild.
So U sleep, on a bed of Crimson Joy.
leeaaun Sep 2023
Happiness, a fragile, elusive wisp,
In the shadows of life, it often slips.
A distant memory of days long past,
A bitter reminder of dreams that couldn't last.

It's the echo of laughter in empty halls,
A fading photograph on crumbling walls.
Happiness, once vibrant, now a faded hue,
Lost in the maze of responsibilities we accrue.

It's the weight of burdens that never relent,
The scars of time, the love that's spent.
In the solitude of nights that seem so long,
Happiness, it seems, has gone so wrong.

It's the dreams deferred, the chances missed,
In the search for meaning, opportunities dismissed.
Happiness, a distant star in a dark abyss,
A longing, a yearning, a bittersweet reminisce.

So we chase it still, through the years we roam,
Hoping to find our way back home.
But adult happiness, it's a complex art,
A delicate balance, a fractured heart.
pov of an adult

A curse, deeply embedded into the DNA..
this is the inevitable fallout  of the love of man--
"Sins, passed down from fathers to the sons.."
even with the best of fathers, and the most tenderest of sons.
As in all things inherent within the confines of a fallen world,
this universal brokenness too must be worked out,
from a deep place within the heart and will of the carrier.
Little mini-carriers do not yet understand,  yet as they grow,
it is in an even more deeply- embedded trait within us
that tells us that we need to rise above
          that which now  quenches..   

               Our own rightful glory--
               the one that is ours to step into
               within the process of Becoming.

  There is always hope.   In the end,
                           death's current rein, loses;
                       Hell-bent on doing all it can
                       to keep us hidden from love,
it stoops so low as to even that of harming a child--
          through the dark-blanket-covering of  
          one's own little spirit..  in to concealment.
Always is there a threat, that if gone unchecked over time,
        that there would become a searing,
            but  also  a threat to one's little spirit,
is the risk of annihilation to their own little autonomy--
were they to crawl back into the womb  in deep  need
for love and protection from what now attempts
       to sear the little-one into complete removal
  from  love's  healing light.

It is the great oppression of the world,  that its inhabitants
have had to so very unfairly learn how to hide from Love--
and yes.. even at such an early age.  The injustice of it all
is overcome  when the struggler learns how to rise above--

             even that which causes most,
                    them to want to (or have to)  hide.

       This very struggle, if left unchecked
       (or becomes greatly multiplied through the horrors
       of childhood trauma)    that sadly,
            some little-ones are unjustly  forced  to endure..
these things can become the roots of what would/could  eventually
evolve into varying grades of schizophrenia
and/or   a whole slew of other mental/emotional disabilities.

Thus is the world, in how it becomes pinned down,
   and separated from Love..

the sad fallout, towards outcome..
for some.

           You (and those you love)
will not become one of these unfortunate ones,
my sweet friend.

            No...  no,  not at all.



Pass me that lovely little gun
My dear, my darling one
The cleaners are coming, one by one
You don’t even want to let them start

They are knocking now upon your door
They measure the room, they know the score
They’re mopping up the butcher’s floor
Of your broken little hearts

O children

Forgive us now for what we’ve done
It started out as a bit of fun
Here, take these before we run away
The keys to the gulag

O children
Lift up your voice, lift up your voice
Children
Rejoice, rejoice

Here comes Frank and poor old Jim
They’re gathering round with all my friends
We’re older now, the light is dim
And you are only just beginning

O children

We have the answer to all your fears
It’s short, it’s simple, it’s crystal clear
It’s round about, it’s somewhere here
Lost amongst our winnings

O children
Lift up your voice, lift up your voice
Children
Rejoice, rejoice

The cleaners have done their job on you
They’re hip to it, man, they’re in the groove
They’ve hosed you down, you’re good as new
They’re lining up to inspect you

O children

Poor old Jim’s white as a ghost
He’s found the answer that was lost
We’re all weeping now, weeping because
There ain’t nothing we can do to protect you

O children
Lift up your voice, lift up your voice
Children
Rejoice, rejoice

Hey little train
We are all jumping on
The train that goes to the Kingdom
We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun
And the train ain’t even left the station

Hey, little train
Wait for me
I once was blind but now I see
Have you left a seat for me?
Is that such a stretch of the imagination?
Hey little train.. wait for me

I was held in chains but now I’m free
I’m hanging in there, don’t you see
In this process of elimination

Hey little train
We are all jumping on
The train that goes to the Kingdom
We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun
It’s beyond my wildest expectation

Hey little train
We are all jumping on
The train that goes to the Kingdom
We’re happy, Ma, we’re having fun
And the train ain’t even left the station

https://youtu.be/igMg5fO7Gqc?si=pim380UShrcz5M_d

Savio Fonseca Sep 2023
Happiness brings U Laughter.
Happiness brings U Joy.
It makes U, sound playful.
Like a Child, with a new gifted Toy.
Love pours Out with Romance,
It has the Fragrance of a Flower.
Some are lucky to have it.
As it multiplies Life by the Hour.
Tears that fall on your Pillow,
for all the times U have Cried.
U feel awful, lonely and Hollow.
like almost half of U has Died.
Life is so much Beautiful,
When there's Someone to Care.
Your Wounds all keep healing
Someday their Scars won't be There.
Phia Sep 2023
It is 6 AM
And the light of the morning
spilling through the cracks of the blinds
is a bittersweet reminder
that yet another day has passed
and I am still here.
I can't help but think
with each rising sun,
that maybe,
just maybe,
I will be okay.
This was the first thought that I had when I woke up this morning so it's a little rough
Kitty Sep 2023
There’s a difference between calling a girl fit and hot and calling her pretty and beautiful
When you call me beautiful I imagine you noticing the way my hair falls from the clip over time
I imagine you noticing the way my giggle sounds and the way my smile lights you up
When you call me pretty I imagine you noticing the complexities of my eyes, the way my freckles come out in the sun and and depth of my dimples
Pretty is noticing the way my legs are sculpted when I walk ahead of you and the way my nose flares when I genuinely laugh

Fit is the body two ***** and a waist
A pair of lips you can only imagine what they do
Hot is the low cut top exposing my cleavage and my ability to open my legs for you
Fit is a one night stand word or the words of a man in a club hoping that that night you are feeling especially vulnerable and insecure

Beautiful is the text she gets when she lies in bed at 11pm asking if she wants to go on a walk
And although she professes to him excuses when she walks out the door of a lack of make up and three jumpers to keep out the cold and her insecurities encapsulated by her self destructive smile and her hair pushed behind her ear
You lift her face and examine that untouched smile
The rawness of her appearance and the purity of her eyes
That is beautiful
And you call it so

When fit is the way a body looks and how much makeup can look like none
Pretty is the way she smiles when she sees you and the way she feels looked upon.
i wrote this in the corridor of my student house while trying to pluck up the energy to go and get my key
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