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Eileen H 14h
grounded in this reality
always, something keeps me. today it is my jeans, digging into the soft skin under my belly, reminding me
this world was not crafted around my form
The doors are all closed,
the windows all shut
and all alone-
Surrounded by my lonely shadows
I do stand,
Shadows of a past
that is no longer mine,
Shadows of aspirations
I no longer recognize,
Shadows of dreams long lost
Shadows of longing
of regret and  failure

And often I feel like a misfit
an outcast
Locked up behind a door,
caged by my very own thoughts
captive to a fear yet unknown
Begging for freedom,
from my self

Not a word to call my own,
not a soul to call my friend
Often lost to the
Pangs of antiquity,
an oblivion so profound,
That all I often know,
Is but a prolonged solitude
A peace,
A quietude that now seems to itch,
And all I would ever bequeath,
Would be scars of a reticent heart,
gone sour with hate
james Oct 7
its two in the morning
and i remember the nights when i was 11
and i tried to understand my true nature
and became afraid and confused

because the more i asked why i
felt or thought some thing or way
the less i was sure
that i had no ulterior motives

(this is how i spent my weekends
when i was not comparing
the local colleges-
yes, i was very fun at parties)

i hadn't words for it then
just frustration and shame
but tonight, in the moonlight
i found them

"the world is a story, and we are all nothing more than untrustworthy narrators," i thought
over popcorn and juice

but i was so young, too young
when i started to ponder
what my actions and beliefs
could really mean

i wouldnt say im smarter now
i wouldnt say im more at peace
but really, the best thing ive done done for myself
is forget how to think
i am not exaggerating
when i talk about not thinking.
once i didnt really like
a situation i was in
so i merely pictured television static
and a blank white room
and i spent the next twenty minutes
not thinking.
Simon Oct 4
These memories of mine,
These senses through time;

Whisper of a never-ending summer,
And never-changing souls.
As if hidden behind ones own reflection,
Never to be reached again.

For, the only place this exiled world is permitted,
Is amidst the realms of dreams and limbo.
And solely a gaze beyond oneself,
May reveal the leap between realities.

So, here I stand on the edge of beginnings,
Ready to join the eternal summer;
Misled by the luring benevolence of timelessness,
In need of guidance back to the truth.
This is a description of me facing the inevitable fate of growing up and losing the innocent, doubtless and strong person I thought I was. Instead now I am left with a choice. Choose ignorance and safety and try to become the harmless kid I was, or accept my destiny and explore the depths of my monstrous capabilities. If the wolf tries to act a sheep, what will he then say to the impulses of his nature?
john Sep 28
it's in the ring now,
but the modern way is reckless.
oblivion is nearing ever closer,
you're just like me:
the greatest magic trick ever seen.
let's disappear together.

nothing's real.
that's just how i feel.
it's all coming on now.
i can't stop listening to the voice
inside my head
telling me not to sleep,
but to go to bed.
shock paralysis dissolves into my mind,
streets walk through the night.
tell me where you are.

oh, what a beautiful hollow part of me
I see.
hiba Sep 25
"what's my problem?" he asked.
"your problem is that you've got everything that you ever wanted and now you don't know what to do with it." she said.
"that makes me a bad human then." he looked up.
"that doesn't make you a bad human. that just makes you... human." she replied.
Anu Thapa Sep 23
She's made up of all the right mixture of chaos and beauty
She inhales all the dark and the light
Her steps are as soft as rose
and as strong as it's roots

She's made up of all the right mixture of rights and wrongs
She reasons with the storm within herself
Her voice is as soothing as the wind's blow
and as strong as the tornado

She's made up of all the right mixture of love and lust
She seduces the strongest of men
Her vision is as tempting as hot chocolate with marshmallow on a winter night
and as calming as a mother Bear's hug
hiba Sep 20
born a sinner,
under crescent moons
and among chants of "talaq, talaq, talaq"
forced to hide behind a star studded veil to be preserved against blood thirsty eyes
glass bangles and silverware replaced the dolls in her hands and the fairyland of her dreams
led on a rose colored path, and into a gold painted cage marked marriage
greedy scars crafted by her lover marred the canvas of her body
only punctured fairy blue wings and dying embers of an electric soul remain
but she rises from the ashes,
sits on her velvet throne
and adorns the bejeweled crown
she reclaims the legacy of her goddess mothers,
durga and cleopatra
this time you don't get to see our strained faces,
this time you don't get to mock the dying fire of our eyes
because now,
we know our rights.
now we're armed with spears of knowledge.
we're the queens of our own kingdoms, unique in our reigns.
we were supposed to be treated like flowers, right?
but you threw us into the mud of your crimes
and we bloomed like lotuses,
reckless and vivacious.
we earned it all.              
                    - standing beside, not against
i wrote this when there was a lot of controversy regarding the triple talaq bill in india. amidst that socio-political turmoil, i wanted people to pause and think about women as human beings first, standing in solidarity ♥️
Mark Rohlf Sep 16
scanning from my perch
staring out the window pane

imaging my path, a quiet place
visioned the trail
i have followed in vain

i to the right
as the herd left

did i hold back
or stand in judgement
above the rest

still hunting a clue
while guarding the line

what is there that i might find

survey from my grave
peering out the window pane

could i have seen
beat, circumspect

the window a mirror
and i my reflect
First draft. I might tweak this some more. I have been accused of over analyzing. This may be a reflection of that propensity
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