I’m still stuck in the fairy tales
Of magic shoes and handsome prince,
Of servants of my own to boss
And I’m still at wash by hand and rinse.
My dreams of riches and luxury
Are still around and just as strong
But haven’t come true that much.
So I must be doing something wrong.

Zippity zappity, zoppity, zoom.
This is me begging at the moon.
Flaffity, naffity, raffity, roon.
My fairy godmother needs to come soon!

I’ve kissed so many damn frogs
My lips have become amphibious
But not one morphed into a prince
So, the solution must be obvious:
I am not holding my mouth right
Or kissing in the wrong phase of moon.
I am not going to be able to hold on
If this wish doesn’t come true soon.

Zippity zappity, zoppity, zoom.
This is me begging at the moon.
Flaffity, naffity, raffity, roon.
My fairy godmother needs to come soon!

I’ve bought magic seeds and amulets
To help the process on it’s magic way
But nothing seems to be working for me.
There must be better words to say.
Some kind of abracadabra mantra
That makes the real voodoo begin.
If I ever get this incantation right
II’m going to do it again and again.

Zippity zappity, zoppity, zoom.
This is me begging at the moon.
Flaffity, naffity, raffity, roon.
My fairy godmother needs to come soon!

Akira Aug 18

All these things
merely illusions
Makes us believe
that everything we knew
is very true

Your love was an illusion
That made me believe
that you actually loved me
I was a fool
to fall for your deception

Open those eyes.
Alec Jul 16

We are the dreamers
We are who imagine a better reality
We turn our ideas over to, or become, the inventors.
We build our worlds and never want to escape
We don't pretend we are sane.
To watch us is to see a blank canvas
But to look in our eyes and mind is to see a world of color.
We imagine the impossible
Nothing is too far out of reach in our mind
...
But we are the dreamers
And we fear reality.
It's never as amazing as in our dreams...
Dreamers get nightmares
They are, after all, another kind of dream
Reality is the base of our nightmares.
What if I got in trouble? What if they didn't like me?! What if I forgot to wear pants to school?!?
Nightmares are apart of being a dreamer.
We create our own realities
Because our real reality is what we fear.
We stay up late, and dream while we're awake.
Because to fall asleep would be to subject to our fears of reality and hate.

Bongiwe Jul 13

See I have to ignore what you say,
because I'd never be happy if my happiness was tied to your opinion of me.
You don't think too highly of me ,do you?
The loudness of your voice when you speak,
You don't think me too bright,do you?
I finally realise that it's pointless trying to be the best of me,
you don't want me.
You fell in love with the idea of me,
an illusion of what I could be, an illusion of my own creation fabricated with long nails, perfect make up and clothes to match.
I hid my imperfections,
foolishly thinking you'd dig until you found my truth,
that you'd see beyond my mask and heal my scars,
but now that your love is gone,
it's clear to me that the only person I should learn to love is me.

Julie C Smith Jul 12

A faint feeling told me
Of what I was soon to see
Pictures of a careless flirt
Turned my illusions to dust and my dreams into dirt

I can't believe it, I wait for denies
Sitting here suffocating under a landslide of lies
Your impassioned promises and vows are all gone
When someone more prestigious is coming along

A bewitching siren, smart and seductive
But behind her bright façade treacherous and destructive
At the height of the dream, so close to be mine
Please don't break my heart for a second time

Written on February 18th, my second doomsday
Pagan Paul Jun 20

.
Waves of psychic nausea
make the teeth shiver,
as the mind grates on lava
and the cloak pulls tight.
An echo from an illusion
permeates the imagination.
glistening with rancid dew
resplendent in its own reflection.
The image mirrored
is not the genuine original.
The genuine original
is not the image mirrored.
Born of the same picture
yet entities of separate strokes,
Romulus and Remus consort
to blur the edges and paint the story.
The host, confused and special,
supplicates to the paths,
waiting for the reformation,
release, relief, and re-definition.

© Pagan Paul (19/06/17)

.
Lynn Al-Abiad Jun 18

I wear my night gown and go to sleep.
You were already sleeping with the moonlight leaking in, shading your traits.
I kiss your forehead and tuck myself under the sheets.
The next morning I wake up and it wasn't you sleeping next to me.



- LynnAA

May 2017
Vil Jun 10

I love to loose...
'cause i like to see those who think they won.

Dakota May 20

i am disconnected from
my body, my life,
the shattered pieces
bearing my once loved
consciousness.
i exist on autopilot
after the sun goes down.
my bones ache with
lack of purpose,
desire, compassion
towards myself.
i’m lying when i say
i hate everyone i’ve been
and everything i shall be.
in truth, i am just a hollow
unfeeling mass that one day
illusioned flowers will spring from.

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