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Ashlyn Yoshida Mar 2021
We've locked ourselves
in rooms of steel
created safe places
designed like prison cells
everyone says there is no way
to escape
without someone to call out our name
and no way to be free
without a light to guide us through the maze

But it will always have to be our feet
that takes us through this hell
And our own eyes
that will lead us well

Relying on others to help you is wrong
a delusion taught to you
through poems, stories, and songs
It will only be you and your willingness to heal
But that does not mean you have to walk alone
to break down all your seals

Stop this searching for that 'one true love'
the more you look
the further your real goals will become
to truly love another
is to forgive and mend yourself
because resenting your actions
only hurts everyone else
you do not love if you hurt and hate
it will only be your hands
that opens your heart's gate.

True love takes work
true love takes time
it only comes across your heart
when you work hard to be of sound mind
But what would I know?
I'm only sixteen

what experience would I have gone through
to really know what that love means?
Be kind, be gentle, be the silent strength inside.
Be a stream that leads to a river.
Manx Pragna Mar 2021
say what you want of me
i'm true to myself
and how i feel
tell me i need to be better
cause you're right
that i should do more
i should
that i could be more
i could
"what do you want though?"
happiness
enough cheddar to see myself fed
i'm no dairy farmer
but cream has filled my head
and now i'm sinking
cause the light man
is now heavier than lead
Nikkie Jan 2021
Have I done enough praying in my life,
to have brought to fruition, this caring man
that God sent my way?
He cares for me and how I feel,
he pulls my chair so I can sit.
He holds me close on the dance floor,
and beckons me to follow his masculine lead.
He raises his drink and toasts to my honor,
which makes me feel unbelievably special,
like winning our own private lottery drawing.
He puts me on his pedestal and holds me
in the highest regard.
But yet he still worries; will I always be,
the same me he sees every day.
Am I going to change who I’ve introduced him to?
Is my love for him going to change?
Are the words I pen from my heart, going to
end up hurting our divine connection?
I am here to stay for the long haul,
I am not afraid to share my feelings.
I dig this power that you emit my way.
That slow drag you had in the beginning
is still locked down inside my soul
dailythoughts Jan 2021
your name is on my lips
your hands are on my hips

we are dancing
you are leading
Ive seen death
I am dying inside
Ive seen chaos
I am lost in it
Ive seen destruction
I lead the way
But I will never see,
Why...
Rollercoaster Nov 2020
Under an old display of neon lights
two gilded exteriors meet.
Their gold needs to melt
and the lead core bared.
Wilde's prince's lead core didn't melt,
so won't their austere cores.
Their gold melted in the neon haze,
but didn't have the heart
to see their leaden heart
in the bright of the day.
Started with those neon lights that you find in the movies and it just went from there. I'm referring to the Happy Prince and his leaden heart from Oscar Wilde's works. (I'm 14, I've never been to a place where there'd be a neon haze.)
Red
She wore red
so that
she could lead him
so that
he could
always see her
his protector
Paul Idiaghe Sep 2020
I await the calm, the bleach
of night, that chapter

when my ribs
unbreak, crawl back

around my cageless heart. eyelids
weigh like lead in this cruel gravity--

they swell faster than tears. tears
that fail to surge me out of this flooded

shell; they close
like every marble door

that stands straight between my dreams
and I,

           and you-- I await
you, draped in downpours & monsoon

tempests; maybe, this time, our wildest
winds would fade out in their collision.
Some days
I lie in bed
Over come by
A sense of dread
Lips trembling
But nothings to be said
Mind tries to get up
But my feet are bricks of lead
Breaking point is near
My hearts already dead
island poet Aug 2020
pick a word, let it lead you astray, then (soil)


a poem to exclaim, refracting the sun rays emerging
from the curves of your chested heart, the waggle of
ten fingers conducting your inner song, the baton first
waved swipe to earth pointing, let us commence there:

think of yourself, entirety, as soil, you the potter,
what has been planted by others, nourished by others,
along sides of your ingestions, you the grower, seeded
anew, each word, hybrid edging with existing vocabularies

the sun from without, the sun from within, the rivulets
of water, the arterial pathways, feed the treasure chest,
and you, farmer, planter, grower, picker, plucker of the
produce, serve us, baskets grown on the fruited plain of

poems’ soil consisting of the writings grown in the
unique you,
all of you,
body & soul
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