insanely bright,
quaffed of colors,
smelling like rotten vanilla on ice,

a constructed barren land
with no lush green to incite eyes,
no blue sea rhyming flows to please ears,
and smell of sudden suicide of air

you thought a damp lonely dark pit,
can only torment you but the light
is the answer to everything?

Think Again.

Rand Jul 14

And in that moment it was as if she was in another land,
Where  she can have her desires,
Speak the feelings aloud,
Without fearing that it might backfires.

But she didn't feel like doing anything,
Those three or four minutes were of those times that only happen once.
They're so beautiful you wish time could freeze forever,
Feeling so tranquil as if in some sort of a trance.

And in that moment you could only close your eyes,
As tears start pouring and a smile creeps over the lips
The thought of being so close to someone and it feeling so true,
Makes one numb for moments and it all slips,
The bad thoughts and horrible images escape for a moment or two,
Till the melody fades and your eyes  can see
That such a reality can never be


the heart: a place where it happens.

flesh to flesh.
blood to blood.
we made a pact,
you and I.

we made a pact.

cartwheels, sun skip
              hop and
wow I need a scotch.

counting to ten, then 20,
phonics and the 50 states.
listening, listening. there
are spies everywhere.

what's mine is yours and vice versa.

sapphire sparkling under
the water and the ants
struggling on the surface.

pull me under and we're
mermaids again. pull me
under and keep me there.

keep me here. we made a pact.

we made an island, so
gather the coconuts. lead
the cannibals across the

I'd never let them eat you, promise.

pinky promise, glittering
promise, stick a needle
in your eye
and all
that rot.

the reward isn't the gold at
the end of the rainbow.
gold means the game's over.

the reward is the rainbow.

the forever (implied), the
countryside (ransacked).
who likes an ending?

it was somewhere
after eyeliner, perfume,
words maybe,

something golden.

it is upto us
to choose,

whether these times
are going to be long
forgotten years,
rotten with bigotry,
stinking of nothingness

or as a testimony
for the times when we
burned our minds and souls
as embers on a cursed night
to never look for the sky ever
in search of a false hope.

Janae Jun 26

I can only imagine
what it would feel like
to have your lips
touch mine.

Would there be a spark?
A powerful force of the unimaginable
by this interaction,

Would there be fireworks?
Going off in the background that
some how managed to
start at the right time

Would it make time stop?
Where it's just you and I,
would we notice if we even started to fly?

I don't know what it would be like
but i know there will be no flying
no fireworks at the right time
and definitely your lips would never touch mine

I can only imagine.

Shadow Wolf Jun 22

Sitting, writing
Picturing a fantasized version of reality
Thinking if how it could be
Only if..
things were different

Wyatt Jun 21

When trying to calm
your cluttered mind,
they say to think back
to a time when you were
happy as a child.
Too bad that I
never had
that good
of a memory.

I don't think it ever existed.

You make a different person out of me
A person I don't recognise as me
From all the words you see
You draw me differently
in a compartment of your mind
Some of my thoughts out there
but many still hidden
You have a different idea
of what I mean from words written
But I have no boundary
limits you built for my identity
Do you think you know me
Or you see what you want to see ?

I too see you from my own vision
Colour you with your thoughts and words
the way I see
guilty of the same you do me
make you a character
in reality you never be
I feel you angry and sad
happy and mad
with all your charms and wordplay
I picture you but not really you

We are strangers
we don't know each other
we create lines to make sense
when we cannot comprehend the true forms
in real or virtual
you are different from what you are in my mind
a  very different person from who lives inside my head

Cné Jun 15

How wondrous,
the romantic heart
that beats
within my breast.
Often do I listen
and within
my mind caress.

The thoughts and sights
that float before
the fantasizing eye.
'Tis much more fun
to dream and
let reality go by.

fuck reality
JAC Jun 8

She made a bird with her hands
And her shadow flew away.
Her hands remained, of course,
But that shadowy imagination soared.

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