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Victor Harvelle May 2017
I'm not like those superficial teens
pretending that they're kings and queens
I'm the one living on dreams
and pretending to be unseen
I just wrote this out of a spur of the moment need, not that good buuut yeah.
Kon Grin May 2017
Throw me in the chartreuse fields
So I can leave my pain behind
Violets and Daffodils will turn
Me into their kids

Buy me out of sable walls
So I can see the other side
Violets and Daffodils will kiss
My spine

Say white, say blue
On a spring afternoon

Whisper out loud
O-hoo

Take me out for a walk on moon
So i can plant lovat' on stone.
Violets and daffodils will grow
On a pale ball.

Lie with me on frosty grass
Keep your feet above the stars.
Violets and daffodils will pass
But we can last.
Courtesy of Iwalf. Text written in collaboration of @kon_grin @greatbigcongratulations and @wonderwall.***
Kon Grin Apr 2017
Verse:
Trembling right beneath my skin,
Gaining tempo of my heartbeat,
Splitting in the 7 shades -
The Ray of light that never ever fades.

Master, hold back all the lords
Faking, making my sense worse.
Give it all and take it back,
There's nothing that will ever lack.

Chorus 1:
Beat, Heart, oh so wild
Beat, Heart, no not mine

Verse 2:
Cuddling on a Sunday night,
Waking up and praying to this light,
Searching for a truth in time -
"Will it last?" or "Will it be alright?"

Iris on a verge of death.
Carpe Diem, Flash and all his friends.
Me and You have found it now,
Me and You are as one.

Chorus 2:
Beat, Heart, oh so wild
Beat, Heart, no-not mine
Me, You are as one
Heart beats heartbeats as one.
my band's actual song (April 9)
In that forrest children chant
They chant for the trees to wake up.
To wake up and give them shelter,
For their snowy shelter is now gond.
And so it rains.

The children smile doubtless and laugh.
They so loud for tthere is no one to obey.
For obeying is the fate of the lifeless.
And so it rains.

And yet each of the children is so lone.
As loneliness is the freedom cost.
And so it rains.

So they all search for the forest now hidden in rain.
And so it rains.
If I was found lying,
Would you kiss me?
Would your rough ****** hairs brush my lips after skipping shaves?
Would you mourn my still body,
Lying in the glass casket?
Would your eyes speak of pain,
And your lips whisper that you still loved me?
Would you hold my hand in one of yours, and in your other hand would you touch my chilled face?
Would you lean down to kiss me again,
But this time…
Will I wake?
This is inspired by an indie boy and the classic fairy-tales, Sleeping Beauty and Snow White.
andi Feb 2017
there is nothing here.
So Dreamy Jan 2017
Aku tahu mengapa dari jutaan perempuan yang ada di dunia ini, matamu memilih hanya untuk memandangi satu perempuan berambut gelombang sedada dengan kaos polos berbahan nyaman berwarna abu-abu muda yang kamu sebut ia sebagai perempuan indie.

Dia perempuan yang kau beri label indie karena ia mendengarkan musik-musik aneh yang tidak masuk di telinga pendengar musik-musik mainstream yang biasa mendapatkan lagu kesukaannya diputarkan di radio mobil. Bukan jenis selera musik yang biasa ada di playlist tim pemandu sorak. Selera musiknya ialah tak lain sejenis musik rock yang ringan, lagu-lagu dari tahun 90-an, lagu-lagu dengan sentuhan retro beat tahun 80-an, dan musik elektro santai yang biasanya kamu dengar di toko baju. Selain selera musiknya, kau beri perempuan itu label indie karena ia bersifat eksentrik, tak terduga dan penuh kejutan, sedikit tertutup, dan bersemangat. Ia jenis seseorang yang bisa kamu dapatkan dirinya menatapi permukaan jendela yang basah dihinggapi bulir-bulir rintik hujan, sibuk memikirkan sesuatu. Ia juga jenis perempuan yang bisa kamu dapatkan kadang menarik diri dari keramaian, lebih suka membaca atau menulis seorang diri. Juga, ia seorang perempuan yang bisa kamu temukan sedang tertawa lepas bersama teman-temannya, mengobrol dengan terbuka dan hangat, menebar senyum sambil menyapa ramah, berteman baik dengan semua orang. Ia jenis perempuan yang tak akan kau sangka-sangka, apalagi dapat kau tebak tindak-tanduk akan ia perbuat selanjutnya. Kau pikir ia jenis perempuan yang kuat, sesungguhnya ia katakan bahwa dirinya cengeng. Setelah itu, kau pikir selanjutnya ia bukan tipikal perempuan mandiri yang mampu membawa dirinya sendiri ke mana pun, tapi nyatanya kau lihat kadang ia berjalan sendiri – ke kantin, ke mushola, bahkan kadang kau mendapati dirinya berjalan pulang seorang diri dengan kedua telinga ditancapi earphone putih. Ia perempuan berperawakan kecil dan seorang pemimpi besar, yang mimpi-mimpinya membuatnya bekerja keras demi menghilangkan ketakutannya akan pikiran ketidakmampuan mewujudkannya. Ia dianggap secerah mentari bagi orang-orang di sekitarnya, selalu tertawa dan melisankan kata-kata positif, tapi sesungguhnya, ia hanyalah mentari bagi dirinya sendiri. Setiap kali ia jatuh, ia yang membuat dirinya kembali bangun − hingga akhirnya, ia tanamkan pada benaknya bahwa begitulah proses dari kehidupan. Kehidupan adalah siklus yang adil. Kehidupan berbuat tidak adil pada semua orang dan itulah saat yang paling tepat di mana ia harus bangkit dan mekar, hanya untuk dirinya sendiri.

Aku tahu kemudian mengapa perempuan yang kamu sebut sebagai perempuan indie itu menarik perhatianmu, bahkan sampai membuatmu rela melakukan apapun untuknya. Ia benar-benar membuatmu seolah bangun dari tidur lama di ruang kedap cahaya, pandangan matamu seolah mengatakan bahwa perempuan itulah matahari baru dalam kehidupanmu. Tentang bagaimana tindak-tanduknya yang tak mampu kau reka dan kau prediksi, perempuan itu membuatmu seperti melihat sebuah misteri dan keajaiban yang melebur jadi satu.

Sebut saja, sederhananya,
kamu benar-benar (akan) mencintainya.
i got into my car hurriedly
Wednesday, Thursday, saturday
(i chose to walk on friday)
so it wasn't until i had to wait out the rain in my car
sunday, 12 pm
that i looked over,
fully immersed in the scent of your favorite perfume
half expecting you to materialize from the cloud of fragrance occupying the passenger's side
and in my haste from the days previous,
i wasn't yet aware of the tiny pin you left in your place
before dashing out into the city streets
a bobby pin
that must have escaped the locks that touched your skin
it made mine crawl
to think of an object blessed enough
from the graces of an atheist's god
to be given the opportunity
to touch a being so holy
and there i sat
in a parked car,
cursing everything that made me into the awkward, 5 ft. 8
man i am
longing to be close enough to her
so that i might
smell the scent of lavender and honey
that lingered from her embrace
but instead,
i am the stalky man who can not seem to say goodbye
a letter exert from a man who i do not know and never did
Cameron Banowsky Dec 2016
Bury My Head

Drive away from this place
nothing left here but empty space.
Bury my head hide my face
I bury my head hide my face

Looks like empty wins  this race.
Empty takes the day.

The heart we shared won't beat the same.
There's nothing left here
except for this change.
Bury my head hide my shame.
I have to bury my head, hide my shame

Time wins this  race.
Time takes the day.

Now this anger it
eats me away.
How do I stop what I can't change?
Now this anger
it eats me away.
How do I stop what I can't name.

I think I'll bury my head -- hide my face
I think I'll bury my head hide my disgrace.
Nicole Raymond Oct 2016
Taste me on your fingertips
Taste me on your Tongue Touched lips

Soot stained,
Rub me on your window pane

Light me up and watch me burn
Crown me with a flame
Name me queen of Cancer Mist

Exhale the exhaust of your
Machine running on empty

But twist me with speculation
Before you Breathe me in

Hold me deep within your lungs
Feel my fire before you choke

Light me up and watch me rise
Unfurling before cloudy eyes of

Senseless addicts

Sizzling in the morning dew
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