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Two decades and two years have been passed
There is more to come

It is not always a rainbow
Sometimes it’s hard looking forward to tomorrow

I’m a failure as a daughter
Not to mention as well as a lover
Being kind never been my strength
Being gentle never been my true nature
I took the bullets but I couldn’t get the wolf trust

But, the pain I gain,
The tears I shed
The heart that shreded
I took the responsibility for it
All glued back now

Hardship never means to be easy
To live, never is
It creates you a shield to face the rest of the world
I may a useless and failure daughter
But I’m one hella though fighter

To the heart that keeps beating
To the soul that keeps sane
To the mind that keep in peace
22 years down, more to go
I make a present for my self
Ryzeofthepoet Sep 2018
I swear i've clawed myself out of here before
But somehow i manage to go back
The deep and endless void that is my mind
I always look out
There's nothing here but memories
Memories of past failed loves
And then theres a snippet of us
That moment when we first met
Suddenly, im jubilant
Just watching us
My beam of salvation
A horror movie scene as the heroine escapes.
Everything is still besides her convalescing breath and the distant, chasing wind.
Not a noise is heard except the fall leave's rattle and the birch wood's moaning bark in the moonlight.
Her body slouches into the protection of a lone shed, and shrouds itself in the aroma of cut grass.
A tense brow relieves and tired eyes close, thankful to receive the momentary peace.

A possible misstep turns the wary peace on end with the jagged cut of broken leaves. The once relieved brow now concedes surprise as wild eyes are cast towards an opaque barricade.
Sly pieces of garden equipment leash the woman's weathered jacket in place as she attempts to stand.
A cackle is heard, a shriek undone.
To spite the brittle wood, that formulaic jump-scare-skeleton-hand bursts through the shed's solicitous walls, set to declare the last of a weary soul as his own.
The wind catches up and spearheads any hole it can find.
It begins whistling around the dim room like a tornado elated to havoc behind a castle's walls.
The tree bark howls, the leaves, now delight.
We learn there is no reprieve for a begging champion.
The camera slowly backs out of the splintered hole, and pans over a silhouetted forest to face the waning moon.
The hero succumbs with muted screams to a gore far below and out of frame.

Our only closure, a somber black screen, with bright white letters, slowly scrolling up.

The end.
Just something I had fun writing, figured not posting it would be a waste despite it not being "poetry", just an experiment I guess. I feel like it would be good, in like, a high-school, short story competition. *****.
Temporal Fugue May 2018
I've placed the ashes, so they won't be disturbed
sheltered and insulated for another day
entombed and protected unperturbed
there for the call unto the fray

No ceremonial burial for him/her
more like the pyre's remains
scraped captured and contained
though some consider it insane

One more day one more night
however long it seems
waiting for the signal light
awakening, from dreams

Time will roll the dice again
just before it's way too late
rendering the want and need
as rising from the ashes
heroes and heroines
Too bad heroes aren't like in the comics :/ always coming back for more..
Tatiana May 2018
I see you've made another enemy,
but this time it is different.
Isn't it?
You're battling for relevancy.
Maybe this time they'll stick around
They'll be the needle that you need.
The drug for your veins' vanity,
addicted to each other's greed.
You crave each other's attention,
wanting that toxicity,
that makes you so well-known.
The drama for your soul.
Because peace can't exist without war,
so keep chasing them you fame *****.
Making your own enemies!
Fighting battles in the streets!
© Tatiana
Eyyy part 2
Tatiana May 2018
Do you know what it means
to be addicted to these scenes?
Where the world is in danger
and you need to control your anger.
Can you feel it in your veins
when they appear into frame?
Are you chasing them for your fame
so you won't be lame?
Your talent means nothing,
if you can't use it.
And if there's nothing to fight against
then you must create it.
Because peace can't exist without war
So keep chasing them you fame *****.
Making your own enemies!
Fighting battles in the streets!
© Tatiana
There will be a part two called ****** and they'll be heavily related. It's one song, just split into two poems.
PoserPersona Apr 2018
Strands of golden beach sand,
Soft and radiant as first snow
Pools of glacier water,
Evoke internal flames not seen.

Beautiful, unknowing
Mirrors may lie, though not I
Heroine of our dreams,
Slay the somnolent slumber.

Winter's worry
Summer's laughter
Fall's turning
Spring's blossoms

I say it so, so you know me
I am the sadness you can't bear, and was the happiness you don't deserve to wear.

I am the stress you can't handle, and was the light of certainty you can no longer re-kindle.

I am the tears you can't stop from fallin', and was the smile you can never put in your face again.

I am the distraction you can't control, and was the calmness once needed by your soul.

I am the doubt you can't get away, and was the ease that has now stopped leading your way.

I am the guilt that will constantly haunt you, and was the lightness that you only wasted and threw.

I am the fear you can't overcome, and was the heroine you once get your courage from.

I was everything you could ask for, now I am unable to offer you anything anymore.
boringwonderland Dec 2017
I remember when your dad would beat you
those were the times I'd see you cry
I just wanted to help you fly
far away from all the hurt and pain
but you just wanted to die
you were a drain
you drained me
I was there for you through **** and back
when things got bad for me you'd just pack
****** nose and drunken nights
remember that time you ran away
took too many drugs and almost died
and you blamed it all on me
I didn't give you those drugs
that made you feel like you were covered in bugs
your the one that cheated on me
I had to be free
from all the unimaginable pain you put me through
I was the one who flew
to get away from you and your blue eyes
a big part of me dies
when you come to this small town
we still hook up every time you visit
when you leave again it makes me want to paint my wrist
with deep red
and to go to sleep in bed
Aislinn Miell Sep 2017
The heroine of the story, I was perfect for you.
Together, inseparable just as it should be
Waves flowed over me with warmth and marvel,
storms of longing and delusion
~ oh it must be love...
But we both know its not
I see the way you look at her
I just chose to ignore it
Woe is me for being so shallow
I could nearly read 'love' on your lips
I never expected to be cast as an extra in my own film.
But I guess your story is not mine to shape...
One day i will be a heroine
I just thought i would be yours.
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