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Emily 5h
Do you remember,
When we ran the world?
We were the king and queen
Of a dominion, so big and true,
The central of which was a eucalypt stump
Guarded by a broken, barbed wire fence

Do you remember,
When we thought
We’d never get older
And we’d never grow apart
Only closer?

I miss those halcyon days
Afternoons and mornings
Under a great blue sky
Back when we ran the world
Because the world we always knew
Was so small and tiny
Just like our minds and bodies

Our problems seem so close
And these youthful days seem so far away
But I remember them so dearly
With every breath of gust carrying
The pure scent of fresh mown grass
And with every taste of orange juice
I hope you cherish them as well
Because they mean the world to me

And I still dream of these days
Both waking and through the night
Where I can live untroubled once more
By your side, hand in hand
Against the villainy of getting older
Even though it’s the inevitable fate

All crowns rust in the unavoidable years
Which come and go
With changes unprecedented
But embraced with an adult acceptance
Because we aren’t children anymore
We aren’t in a playground dominion
Along a beaten path and in the shade

Our reign is over, and I no longer know
The faces who have taken our places
But I hope you know
I thank you for the memories
They were so sweet and innocent
And even as we got older
And our feelings grew stranger,
I believe we’ll always have our days
As kings and queens
In our little-big dominion
So long as we always remember
Dear little girl with stardust in her eyes,
never stop dreaming.
Dear tired mommy with wrinkles of stress,
never stop caring.
Dear over-worked daddy with alcohol breath,
never stop trying.
Dear little baby giggling and so blessed,
never stop smiling.

For each day it gets harder,
each second gets tougher,
but if you just hold on,
I promise you'll get stronger.
I'm playing on the floor
I see myself
I see the toys

I have no regrets and no flaws
I am an innocent
An endless augur

The destroyer of worlds
I call myself
As I make the toys suffer
Suffer like a child suffers

For only a teenager knows
That what came before
Was without inhibitions
A playground of choice

As only the adult recalls
Perhaps with fondness
Without sounding any alarms

The days of purity and acting
The years of guises and comics
The halloweens and
empty promises

May they never come back
For in the back of my mind
I am still that same child
The destroyer of worlds
The same wandering soul
A toy that was never
Left unturned
a life is born
a lie is heard
Before learning how to save myself,
I learned how to share, how to give
So I falsify a sense of intimacy by passing myself between partners
Treading calculatingly over hearts and hands
My body has become my greatest asset
Gifting bite-sized pieces of my consecrated self
To make others feel more whole

I intended to welcome you but not to make you stay
You mistake my warmth for hearth and home,
My kindness for genuine interest,
The soft curves of my figure for climbing holds—
But I am no feat to be conquered by palms ripe with entitlement
And aimless desire seeking a target to land on

Liberation is difficult to obtain when your choices exist under a microscope
When your personal autonomy becomes public opinion
And the physical manifestation of your being an object of desire
How can I be present in my experiences without losing control?
Without losing myself in all of these crossed wires?

My obligation to nameless others is suffocating
The word “no” burns my tongue like acid and disappears before I have the satisfaction of spitting it out
I am intoxicated by the contact,
The endlessness,
The denial of both loneliness and mortality
Now I have to remember who I was before I let others in
Before innocence became a burden I forgot how to carry
Before I started jumping in front of moving trains for the story, for the thrill
When I belonged wholly to myself
When the beckoning of those who wanted something from me was background noise
And not a siren call that entrances and penetrates

You, dominating my thoughts
Your touch, dominating my skin
Your lips and tongue trailing down my neck because you have an acquired taste only I can sate
My fingers tugging at the ends of your hair,
Reaching, reaching for salvation—
Something that, in another person, I will never find
flesh without skin
cracked and raw
but no blood to be found

eyes with no lids
frozen and unblinking
but no tears to fall

innocence is stripped down to the bone
for everyone to pick at
everyone to play with
until blood falls and eyes are wet
until it is no more.
Anne B 4d
You look like a wolf
in sheep’s clothing

And yet, you say you
are the dragon

Yet, you make us believe
in your story

You breathe no fire

You only wanted the
castle walls
to protect you
from our glances

If you had opened up
Put away your wolf hide

All could see
how lonely you are

And how wrong our story is

Ann­e H. Bakke  |  02:09  @   29.05.2016
The narrative is all wrong. You are doomed.
Madison 5d
In times of silence
Look around
And ask the generation before you
If they remember...

When 'tragedy' wasn't a part
Of our daily vocabularies
Tossed around as freely as 'love' or 'die.'

The first time they heard the royal court cackle
And tell the pawn just what he was
Unaware that they, too
Were just disposable pieces
Of a horribly trivial game.

The time when words meant something
Could often be trusted
Weren't just poker-faced masks
Placed ill-fittingly
Over a lifeblood of insincerity.

The very day when everything changed
Innocence and security withering away
Before falling down like autumn leaves
Left on the simmering ground
To turn black and rot.

The exact moment they learned
Nothing would ever be the same.

The quiet of the aftermath
When they wiped away tears
And pushed themselves into the warmth
Of a loved one's embrace.

When that dear loved one
Soothed them
With sickly sweet naivety
Assured them
That they wouldn't live through another war
That this world was too beautiful
To kill before knowing who was at fault
And the guilty world
Went silent again.

Then, to break the silence that comes after
Ask if they remember
The day you were born.
Downing glasses of boiling hot milk.
That must be why they are passed out.
Ignore the yelling that sprints through my innocent ears.
Hug your stuffed rabbit,
and go to bed.
Let the words escape through your head.
Their shouts and screams will manifest in your dreams.
There is no monster in your closet,
instead, the monster lives in your heart
it will tear everything apart.
Leaving you will a ragged blue bunny,
a stack of money,
and a plan to flee from this place.

so different now

returning to my lover

innocence is lost

haunted by the ghosts of war

my hands angry with bloodshed


rob kistner © 2018
A contemplation on one personal cost of war to a returning soldier.
This was inspired as I was reading about John McCain.
My thoughts were also drifting to the Viet Nam war returnees.
Sophia Sep 12
You outshine the darkest night,
your robe the pale moon.
A beauty unimaginable,
a crown of roses bloom.

The tender touch of moonlight,
is the love the sea adores.
A glittering fragrance of starry flowers,
I know they are only yours.

These words were composed,
like music of the richest colors.
For you alone and only you,
would I love like a mother.

I am not a stormy ocean,
yet feelings unravel as so.
Your untouched heart reverses,
and I hear their tales of woe.

Innocence like the wind,
it blows so swiftly away.
The genuine smile so eager to love,
is now clouded today.
Just my experience of losing my innocent and carefree mind of my childhood as I grow into an adult.
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