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EmperorOfMine May 2018
In the end, someone has to lose.
Whether it be real or more so symbolic.
For those whom may not be heard, your losses will bring about another's voice.
For those who may not be seen, your losses will bring sight to another.
Sometimes you win the most when you lose humbly.
Truthfully, as bitter as old dark cold coffee, you may one day suffer.
Your only chance out will be taken by someone who's had many doors, yet they only use them as trophies.
They may not use a single one for their purpose, and you'll have to let that simmer into your mind.
Just remember, that person may have what you need but is probably dying inside.

Lose humbly.
Deep Thought May 2018
When I first moved to Seattle at age 21,

I had a vision.

My reasoning to recreate myself.

A longing to be an independent woman,

far away from my Father.

Thought I would change into this "glorious" being.

Ironically enough, I didn't change,

in fact, I became even worse off.



Didn't love anyone but me,

barely had much leftover for my family.

10 years later,

I am sitting here writing a story of 10 years wasted & drugged.

No solace just plenty of malice.



Found tons of photos in Dropbox tonight.

Stayed up all night so I could delete over 1,000.

By the time morning came,

the pictures left me depleted.

Along with people I've slept with & people I've met along the way.



Does this sound familiar to you?

Can you relate?

How many hearts I've broken,

now I include mine.

Even displayed the third eye in most of the photos.

Can't say I've reached the state of enlightenment.

There wasn't a time when I didn't have a drink or smoke on hand.



A plethora of vanity,

with no sanity sight.

I've pressed delete many times,

and still,

they'll always be stamped pressed in my mind.

Long lost memories.

Now please,

ask yourself how deep have you or will you continue to bury it?

This proved to myself how much I loathe who I used to be.



Externally I may have look happy & healthy.

Internally I was dying from all the mischief.

I believe it started at the age of 12 when I lost my Mother.

With no compassion for others.



WAKE UP!

Ladies & gentlemen,

time flies,

don't let Snapchat lie to you.

You aren't getting any younger,

you could just be getting uglier.

Take it from me,

there is no freedom in social media.

Just more demons,

when we really need more of Jesus.
"He answered and said, Whether he be a sinner or no, I know not: one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see."
John 9:25 (KJV)
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
You on my mind


Your uniquely beautiful eyes are a perfect azure.
You are pure of heart and so serene to be sure.
My love grows for you as every hour goes by;
Continuously moving forward towards you, my alluring light.


As you stare deep into my soul, I am left helpless.
You are becoming a part of me that I cannot live without.
You leave me feeling like I can only ever be selfless,
Because all you give to me, changes me and I am left to renounce,
Every dream I ever had, because I never knew you before now.
Your wishes have become my only desires;
I do not matter to me anyhow…


So willingly I fall before you, I am humbled by your beauty.
I am yours to choose, or lose willingly.
As you lick your lips, I take in a deep breath;
Your sultry dance moves all around me and I am left in a mess.
Fixated on you, I cannot take my eyes from yours;
I am hypnotized by your good looks and desperate for your love.


As the curves of your body entice me in,
I am left begging for you to give me all that I need.
As your hands move in sync with my every wish,
I am hooked on your feelings; I am left praying for another kiss.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
rei Mar 2018
i
i am a grain of sand
of rice
of billions and billions of others
no one can see me in this tsunami

i want an adventure
something that will grant me
the freedom i need
just like a genie

i hope that you will love me
and care
but maybe you don't
because "i" is the nobody that is desperate
for love
Cory Williams Mar 2018
I always bet my joy on tomorrow
Sold myself on dreams that I will follow
Days and nights come and go
Starting high and ending low

Setting goals that I didn't know
All the tools with nothing to show
Passing fails and failed passes
I saw myself through rose colored glasses

Sat and wasted as the world kept turning
Everyone around me were bodies burning
I was weak and I didn't know
How to sew the seeds and let myself grow

I learned through pain to shed my sorrow
To look in the mirror and your eyes are hollow
You have a choice within that moment;
Light a spark, or let the darkness hold it

Choose the gift that keeps on giving
The one that changes day to day living
To be humble and not be broken
Lift up for tomorrow hoping

You wake up and keep recieving
The spirits fill and has all believing
That I'm not leaving;
I'm not giving in.
Taylor Ott Feb 2018
I can imagine my life in a lot of ways.
I’m an artist.
I’m a social worker.
I’m a traveler with a backpack and a ukulele that walks the borders of people’s lives stopping by for their capital moments and leaving to a port, passing to my next adventure.
The honest truth is I am overwhelmed by the trauma in the world.
Should I illuminate it in scenes that make you question your own morality?
Shall I work, and callus my hands in the rough of the this reality or should I run? Run through and learn and question and return only to realize I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t live in a society of things that hold value, rather than life. In a place where people’s problems are too small when I know that all you need to be happy is clean water, warmth and enough food so you can sit and share, and laugh and love.
But that love is important too. And in whatever life I imagine I want that. A love that stretches past my vast valleys of imperfections and who will share theirs with me. A love that can withstand and give strength in the bends of life. And as we take those tight corners, whatever we imagine, will be together.
Mama earth Feb 2018
Fear wondering astray                
Mears pondering I lay
Near fields among the day                    
  Here yield those of gray          
Dear God stuck at play
®️©️
Jessica Jarvis Feb 2018
What's a sentence?
A group of words and thought?
No, silly, it's not.

What's a novel?
A group of sentences and plot?
Not really, it's not.

Then what is this,
With books upon it's shelves?
That is the doorway to the lives of many who dream to no longer sit by themselves.
Written around January, 2017.

Inspired by somebody who lived out her adventures behind book covers and worn-out pages.
(2017)

O' marshes!
Swallow up the gale
Which farthest I could hear,
Ne'er I belong such privilege
By myrtle over there.
Recollecting where the pod
To whom I left behind,
The continent,
The humble swamps,
Surpassing us again.



E.
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