Broken walls of stolen homes
Bleeding hearts in broken bones
Dreamlands turned to a battlefield
Youngest hearts turned to stones

Thought I found a home for fears
Where waves of tears broke the piers
Singing birds lay in silence
I saw it last through a mist of tears

Even flowers here suffocated
Most simples thoughts are complicated
Cleanest loves are shrouded in mist
Happiest thoughts are frustrated

emma l 13h

breaking bones
grinding them to dust
let your skin shrivel
let the sun soak it up
you belong to the ground
your heartbeat,
your spine,
your stomach
girls like you don't stay above ground for long
it's time to go home
lay in the dirt
no pain, all peace
the earth misses your breath
swallow fallen teeth
and sink

J 2d

All our lives grovel and moan - Discourse torn from the penetrated beauties undisclosed deep within a hollow tone - Do we breathe to live or live to die - Discovered only in the settling beat of an afterlife - I am he and he is I - Flesh wounds near - Besieged by a shattered sigh -   Fly beside the torn down spectacle - Learn to spread wings fetch knowledge alone - Become solid bone stronger than stone - Often I sit down and write never really knowing direction or perspective - My eyes see deep - Deeper than I gather to observe - Am I just scared - Frightened to find something id rather just leave behind? Explore I must and try to make sense of what is happening - One day ill realize the whys, hows, whens, and mights - Sit back relax and realize iv always been here - right here at home
My home

skyler 3d

i want to sleep but not wake up
because it's seems whenever i find sleep
i also find you

because when i first wake up
some part of me half expects you to be there
so when i roll over i can pull you in
and it will feel like home

but then it hits me
that when i roll over
i will only be greeted by an empty bed
and the only things i can pull in are my knees to my chest
and i will be home but it will feel foreign

so i want to sleep
sleep but please not wake up


my room is full of violence
i hear the angry hateful words ringing in my ears
they enter my room and i cannot stop them
these words come from my own mother
when i am 15, i tell myself, i will speak up
when i am 16, i tell myself, i will stand up to her
when i am 18, i tell myself, i will fight back
but i cannot
i am trapped
her words have given me anxiety
her words have given me insecurity
her words have given me self consciousness
her words have given me anger
when i was 8 i vowed to never be like my mother
my worst fear is to be like her
i do not want anyone to feel so trapped as i am in my own home


Do you think I’m lost?
Like I can’t survive on my own.
Who will take care of me?
The wind, the sea, my home.

A gentle chorus wafts through the air as abandoned castles sigh, like a cat resting in a sun patch, and ancient cathedrals unitedly chant the song of religious history.
U nveil the glistening treasures deep within the mines of the mountain side; feel the butterflies in your stomach as you dive down the shafts.
S ing the song of the Alps as they enchant you with innocent snow and seductive diamonds, with charming forests and guilty avalanches.
T aste the morning brew on your tongue, basking in the warmth on the cafe patio, listening to the street musicians purify the tourist's ears.
R ed rooftops, orange balconies, yellow sunsets, blue skies, purple chocolate bars. But nothing is green here; for this land envies none.
I return through the skies like the prodigal son, having gone for so long, missing the life I was born to live; but everything is different now and the streets I once called home have become foreign.
A ustria, my mother, I remain an orphan.

- p. winter

I was born in Austria but live in another country now. I haven't been back in years but this summer my mother and I went "home". The memories are flooding back and I almost don't want to leave. But it's been so long... Austria isn't quite home anymore.

run with the wind to
the killing freedom
search for the
ultimate home
surrounded by fields
to make an eternal summer
the frozen sun goes
around and around
a bird with a
broken wing is dead
no one came to visit

He was a broken soul
From a broken home
His heart's a hole
With no self-control
He'd let his emotions go
But he already felt his heart go cold

Known to some
Unknown to none

Where heart is
Soul search tis

Present to some
Absent to come

Tune that organ
Lest forgotten

Warmth to some
Froth to thrum

Rise a rhythm
Find its freedom

For those who have not
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