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ml Feb 2019
Her
My shadow is splayed beneath me.
She doesn't stir, the silence between us, unbearable.
My thoughts have muddled it's too early to be maudlin.
I must confess,
My aching bones have not settled
These chrysanthemums I grow perish in my arms.
They yearn for the comfort of home,
But fall is too far away
And I am afraid of change.
And to become adulterous lovers with it.
To be quiet is a talent.
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2019
Learning is a journey of understanding, acceptance and the ability to holistically process various informations feed. It is like exploration to unknown, using spirits, vibes and subtle form of wisdom. An act of learning is a stimuli of consciousness which will guide one, what one needs to choose in the circumstances one is involve with.  The ultimate objective of learning is to adopt common denominator of all the conceptions cultivating the state of mind for harmony what directs one to stay human.

To be precise it is a process of dynamic evolving.
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Why to learn?
lovelywildflower Feb 2019
I'm so used to being left behind
I've never had a relationship that lasted a long time
I've always been thrown away back into the endless sea of people
Wondering who they're going to end up with
And I've found you
You're my happy ending
But forgive me for being skeptical about you loving me
It's hard to give you all of me
All of my trust
When it's just been broken and taken advantage of
And I know you're different
You won't ever hurt me
But there's still that fear buried deep inside me
I was never one to take risks
But maybe I should start
If I never learn how to fly
I'll never be with the one I love
So I'm spreading my wings
And taking that jump off the edge
I'll do anything to be with you
And I want to make this work
So today I'm learning to fly
And I will forget the past pain and hurt
Josh Cheshier Feb 2019
Luminescence in the dark

She burnt, slowly but with intent, not so much a flickering flame ticking away at an oil soaked wick, but a continuous stream of energy sourcing from her earthly power. Most of the time she carried a faint glow, gently floating, casting the softest hues on things only moments forgotten, things in which she dreamt whilst spinning in creation, or perhaps things needing to be given to a nights ocean wave

She was born as deep as an ocean and many of her feelings reaching ranges unfathomable. Often troubled and tormented by things past, thoughts that burn and then rain tears like ash, a once dormant volcano breaking through the oceanic floor. Resurfacing, revisiting once more. Opening up to be quickly cooled and building upon her growing foundation, a demonstration for the ones she loves. Let her burn and boil, and when she erupts, be with her at her depths as she cools.
gray Feb 2019
I'll scrawl pages of your name
because every way the letters turn make my eyes burn
The night you told me i was your favorite slur
My name has turned into something i never want my children to learn
Sweet salt drips from your lips
You speak in compliments and quotes
A personality made from mistakes
I keep giving and you always take
But never more than you need
a feeling of everlasting trust
bethany w Feb 2019
dear thirteen year old me,

don’t cry girl
don’t waste your tears on him
and don’t stress
because this isn’t the last time

you’ll run into him again
in fact,
you’ve got a lot more
in store
a lot of lessons to learn
and mistakes to make

believe me,
when I say that he’ll again feature
in your highlight reel.
he’ll be back,
you’ll see

don’t cry girl
though you fell too deep;
it won’t be the last time
dear thirteen year old me - you’ll learn.
Rowan Feb 2019
It’s weird how much
I love times new roman and
how the sight of Jordan Maron playing
below Zero Subnautica makes me clap and grin.

I’m the nonbinary watching youtube to sleep
and to feel comfort. I find the sound of the Misfits Podcast
soothing. The first degree black belt resting on my shelf
means I worked seven years, but when I learn Jiu-Jitsu
I’m up against the wall, stuck in another corner.

My closest friend group full of a bunch of LGBTQ+ and
mentally ill kids, from transgender to bisexual, from depression
to panic attack disorder to separation anxiety. We’re all just trying to survive.
Living comes later.

I’m writing a poem to express who I am, is
this enough? To the heart of me, the soul,
or whatever you want to call it.

Does the horse tattoo I got three weeks ago,
on my left shoulder blade or the way I fold my clothes
in my suitcase tell you? How about the green of my eyes,
that my best friend describes as a soft jade with small streaks of gold,
the outer rim a pillowy chocolate blue?

I love the sound of acoustic guitar and the powerful choruses
thrumming through the air. Editing is always done on paper and
grammar is a learning experience. I go horseback riding every Sunday
with my campus horse club.

But this tells you nothing of my times, when I found myself
Alone, utterly without hope and trust. Or I could say,
I trusted that I was not enough and that I could never amount to anything.
But it’s taken me a long time to take back what was always mine,
and I’m fighting for those rights yet.

I need to wash my water bottle more,
I need to say I love you to my best friend more,
I need to… to…
Love Myself.

And maybe that’s what this poem is for.
Leigh Marie Jan 2019
I’ve been learning what I deserve
Who I deserve
What makes me happy
Who makes me happy
Still sprinkled with self destruction
And holding onto fond memories
I’ve got a ways to go
But my how far I’ve come
HTR Stevens Jan 2019
To one teacher we are little devils, little imps,
But to another we may be little cherubims.
As you see, my class has many a variety:
Mischievous, intellectuals, as well as the sleepy.
But this variety is what makes the world go round.
I do not like a class that is too sober and sound.
Seriousness does not make a mind care-free and easy;
Instead, too much seriousness can cause insanity.
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