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Mrs Timetable Jan 15
There are many
Layered shades of me
From light to dark
I always stop and think
Which one blends
And when?

I can only hope
For all of them
All the time
Things I think about while driving
I S A A C Jan 2022
it is your birthday today, the first man to show me
there are layers to masculinity and femininity
and each layer you kissed
today I am led to reminisce
funnily enough, I still dream about you
you were the only healthy thing I ever liked
you were the only man who ever did me right
You washed me clean of my trauma and make me shine like pearls
I dreamt you met my momma and you kissed my curls
but you are happy now and I am too
maybe in the next life
I hope I can find someone like you
He flipped the pages
one after another
his curious fingers
tracing each syllable
of her untold story,
the deeper he dived
in her mystic maze
his fingers were smudged
with ink and her tears
the words were stripped
her soul was bare
and he fell in love
with her cryptic layers
Cardboard-Jones Mar 2021
It took three drinks just to get me here.
You said it wasn’t enough, that it wasn’t clear.
Four calls to your voicemail.
I didn’t understand why, but I apologized.
Two trips down memory lane
And I don’t think it will ever be like that again.
One moment of clarity
But I can tell you’re forcing that smile.

I can’t bring myself to tell you what’s wrong with me.
Maybe I’m too afraid you’ll be angry.
No one’s been able to look under the surface.
It’s a mess like a circus, I thought it was my burden.
I couldn’t look at you and hope that you would understand.
That’s why I keep it close to the chest.

It took six drinks just to get us here.
You said it wasn’t my fault, but it is my dear.
Five hugs and a kiss for luck.
I want to tell you more but my words are stuck.
One date to make it up to you
And I’m so sorry.
Melody Mann Mar 2021
Oh moonchild,
it is safe now,
Unfold your layers till you discover the stardust and ecstasy residing within.

You are but a speck in the creation of life,
born of constellations your mind cannot fathom,
existing parallel to each equinox awaited,
although the vast is mystified and serene,
remember oh moonchild,
you are deserving of the radiance you shine onto others.

Unfold your layers and look inward for there you will find,
the glories the skies contain confide the very heart which you thought benign.
b e mccomb Jan 2021
if this bus
is any later
i will drift
into a pile of snow

i’m not seventeen
wrapped in three
and a half blankets
to keep myself warm
from the inevitable cold

i’m an amorphous blob
a lump of
coat and scarf
and mask and hair
and cords and lunchbox
and sweater and bag
and cold fingers clutching
a coffee cup

i’m not twenty one
can’t keep
ignoring things
pushing them
under more layers

claiming it will
keep me warm but
just stifling
me from breathing

i’m almost
twenty three
but when i start
ripping off layers
i’m still

under the
trappings of
age there
are those same
fresh wounds
****** on my skin

do we even get
older or do we just
grow wiser in the ways of
silencing the child underneath?

but there’s no time
to think about that
now when the
bus is rounding the
corner and i’m scrambling
through forty
different pockets
to find my pass

and it’s time to go
because if i stand
here any longer
so the snow blows
over me
when the sun comes
out my feet will
melt onto the sidewalk

but that’s another
thought for another
day and it’s time to
leave so i’ll just put on
another layer and
keep moving so
the snow can’t
cover me
copyright 1/19/21 by b. e. mccomb
John McCafferty Dec 2020
Orbital cycles continue in silence
Clues encoded below our surface
Assurances often issued in service

Expectations setting precedent
Placed in systems held with relevance
Are we persuasive to suggested events
Recognisable feelings sense ahead

Onion layers all revealing
Who are the fools inside of you
Step back into receptive thought
To make knowledgeable judgement calls
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
iamgone Nov 2020
my mind may have layers
stairs and levels
and turning
halls and rooms
but don't be fooled
my mind is not
a building
my mind is not
a home
in fact
my mind
is where i get
lost the most
I can't find refuge
not even in my own head
what day is it?
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