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afteryourimbaud Feb 2017
Age
shall not
worry me,
nor the years
condemn.

I yearn
for an existence
that goes beyond
everything,
and nothing
deserves to bind me
and dethrone me
from my own
plateau.

I deserve
every single breathe
that I heave,
and there is
nothing off me
that you can
steal.
afteryourimbaud Feb 2017
He is immune to things that could shake him
for years and years
like the rohypnol, cotton bleach, light beam
more tears and tears
been shed upon the Christ's myth
and nothing could indulge in more width.

He can never lie in the bunk
throughout the summer, forever
a thousand of ships have allegedly sunk
into the oblivion, since we gather
in the acrimonious way in withholding
the frivolous conviction that we refused.

He missed thousands of roses, lilies, daisies
He stepped on it, he couldn't resist
when they arrived to announce the capture from the harem
he departed just to leave a terrifying mark all over them.

He dragged his soul through the abandoned street
street of hope and lie that forget to greet
tend to set ablaze any shape of territory
Inferno's fault is that it never told us the whole story.

He is now dancing alone on the sacred mountain
savoring the peace that he thought he could never obtain
horrendous mistake when they set him apart to be blamed
even Abraham made up something to take everyone's sight off the frame.

They shirk their responsibilities resulting in the furor
he wished that he can never be bothered anymore
for John, Donald, Henry are passersby in waiting
and the Sun now, seems to be brighter and deafening.
Lana Jan 2017
Silence is nothingness, yet it speaks
A million words packed into a mere few seconds which seem to last a painful infinity
Your silence it speaks, it is manufactured to torture
Your eyes filled with hate
Now here I stand, begging you to speak, something, anything, but nothing all the same
requiEM Jan 2017
I feel the bumps on my skin echo underneath my fingertips
I try to resist the urge to peel my face off
To pour blood onto the floor as I become who I believe
But at what cost?
To become an unknown version of myself seems beautiful at times, concerning at most
When I am sober, alone with my thoughts, I thank my skin for existing
With its bumps, bruises, unevenness, and lines
It was made for me
Stretched for my hips, stretched for my being, reminding me that I take up space.
And space is okay.
And it is all around us.
And it is infinite.
On my journey through the Unsocial Anarchy,
I could see the crooked dream.
The tranquility I felt was infinite.
But though crooked, it was impervious.
Sienna Luna Jan 2017
there is this pithless entity

circling round my gut

waxing and waning

folding in infinite measures

like stiff cloth finding creases

that fit



and I caress this part

inside which has no fold

or definite pattern



but there is this power

and it increases as the light

of lesser days burn into night



brightly devouring

all lesser fabrications

willing them to speak

in hushed whispers

bathed by blackness



completely surrounded am I

a vagrant soul departed

yearning for this star of gasses

to not combust but

slowly awaken



and you spark that within me

heavy and unaware

a messy cloth of vibrance

washed and wrung and folded gently

with shaking hands and thumping breath



the atmosphere surrounding

all that is real



enveloping my body as it speaks

of glorious wonders

operating deep

within the cosmos



where air is sealed tight

like a vacuum and



I can't help but breathe in

even though

I know

I'll suffocate
Sanjukta Nag Jan 2017
Everytime you bring me back from
The shore of infinity
Dragging my soul through waves
Sprinkling foamy stardust on my eyelids.
I open them
And find your shadow more pale
Than yesterday's dream.
You carry my wings
Your shoulders under my feathers
Expand wider than western horizon.
I melt and spread
Like a field of sunny tangerine
On your patient chest.
An ocean that is sweeter than freedom
Deeper than the blues of Pacific.
thymos Dec 2016
it is so that
you are no more than
the sum
of your parts
but your parts are
infinite.
that the situation of your being is infinite is mathematically demonstrable.
Amy Greene Dec 2016
Moon sighs into infinity,
she moans
at the thought of morning kisses from the Sun
fleeting passions
always spinning into eternity

Moon dreams
of delicate snow angels
in a dance of wings around her
she is frozen stardust carved by a sightless deity
she is ice
glistening when the Sun touches her
melting
when the Sun touches her
melting
at his touch

Moon closes her eyes, whispers
touch me
Sun opens his eyes, smiles

they are one
dawn
symphony
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