Sun 7h

I find you
   in the loneliness
        of the crowd_

                In order to die,
                     you must live a life
                          worthwhile _


                               You are the voyage
                                    I call home
                                        My eternal hope

She's tired of being a doll.
She no longer wants to be locked in a drawer with her pale pink dainty lips pressed against the ceiling of her rose-petal scented nightmare chamber.
She's old news now, Julie is the one to they all dote over, her hair's a shade lighter and glossier and her little boots are a more brilliant pink. Julie's dress isn't frayed like Arleta's, the flowers on the new doll's dress are more detailed and eye-catching.
Julie's perfumed with lemon and jasmine, Arleta used to smell of roses plucked at dawn after rain, now the once-sweet scent is toxic and she can't escape it.
She met a boy-doll once; Marr.. he looked at her as if she was a ship freshly painted and awaiting her maiden voyage over apple-green seas. Her tiny china heart had flipped that day and then never beat with such lovestruck ferosity again.
He'd fallen from a 3rd storey window and had been too broken to be mended, just like her worn little doll-heart.
But if she could dance like the young girls in the village do, in the buttercup fields.. if she could share carrot cake as dusk approached across the river and could sleep the night away in a hot air balloon!
If her legs could run and leap, and her delicate lips could kiss a charming boy..
She holds hope in her chest and crosses her porcelain fingers, maybe luck will fall into her lonely life like a jewel in a hail-storm.

Blissfully wading, anxiously waiting
for gentle waves to lay in each other’s lap.
I swirl my finger in playful circles; the water
softly grips, an infant’s hand that sucks
with a toothless grin.  

I peer through ripples at the skyscrapers
below, stretching to feel the warm air blow
against their brittle faces. Why did they make them so
tall? The towers then fall, two by two, gradually drifting
besides those who once leapt with terror in their eyes.

Lying back, I witness the ground and the sky become
one ocean, an azure canyon with no walls. I fear if I stand up it
would hit me like the deepest note on a piano, leaving me to drown. I reside myself to a life spent on my stomach, greeted only by the water that kicks me in its sleep.

A beam of light shoots up across the way, like the dawn
breaks the day, like memories distort my reality. Could this be
someone like me? Someone desperate for the touch of flesh, to
remind them how easy it used to be. Back when the sun tickled your nose and the grass stained my skin a sickly green.

No, maybe just a mirror, a reflection. A window to a universe where I am just as lonely; lonely and tired. What would I do if this
was the case? I’d tightly smush my face against the cool glass.
I’d see myself wave goodbye and dive beneath the foamy tide, where I search for a sandy beach to hack up my sodden lungs.

Ivo 1d
She

You've abandoned me, my dear
you left and left a mess
no goodbyes, no farewells
let alone - a caress.

You've abandoned me, my dear
knowing my issues well
still, you went anyway
leaving a hollow shell.

You've abandoned me, my dear
suffice to say, it's late
too late to call you mine
when all you left is hate.

It feels good when someone likes your pain.
Funny concept, isn't it?
To feel so fulfilled when you're congratulated for your wounds?
When you're celebrated for your tears,
commended on your scars,
applauded for your broken heart.
A creator is enslaved to his art,
the art is enslaved to his pain.
Without the hurting, the art just doesn't feel real.
It's a gimmick, just some pretty words.
Pain is the proper seal of approval.
The certificate of authenticity
You can't spell paint brush without pain.
Pain is the most vibrant color
The unbreakable pencil.
Heartache is the sharpest camera lens.
The ink runs darker when there's blood added.
Love is better remembered when it's broken.
Happiness is more vivid after it's taken away.
Loved ones become more loving after they're gone.
Love interests stay beautiful in the past.
The best sex improves with time
Good memories age like wine.
I'd love to make happy art,
I'd love to smile when I spill my memories
Be nice to just write because I can.
Pain is just more interesting.
Darkness the better work light.
Misery the better Muse.

Kyle D.
Anthony 2d

I watched the sky turn black
And looked down on the city lights
Hearing the voices of the smitten
With poison in their veins
As I stayed quietly comforted
By the fragrance of my lavender heart

Something old.
AndSoOn 2d

Life expect you to fit in
But you feel like afterthought
As you were not meant to win
Summer led you to a naught

Then, we welcomed the cold back
And they all left like the birds
Even though it is all black
Alone isn't a bad word

The light will come back in waves
'Til you grab it for your sake
I promise you ; join the braves
And you alone will not ache

Many words come and go
Lingering in a space
or two inside
my mind
Collecting thoughts
inside the deep
sighs

Sharp words speak
in times
when my mind feels troubled.

By Weeping willow
2017

Thoughts
50RR0W 2d

Hello my good friend, Darkness!
How have you been?
Me? Oh I've just been a mess.
Going back there time and time again.

Where you ask?
Oh I'm glad you did!
Its the bottom of a flask!
I know I know, God forbid.

I come here from time to time.
Just trying to find somewhere to put my mind.
It beats the pain and agony that puts me in a bind.
But its a better than being left behind.

Now I drink to forget the old!
To make way to new and better!
No this does not make me cold.
But it also does not put me off kilter.

Oh no, is it time for you to go?!
I'm sorry that you couldn't stay long.
Now don't be a stranger, you can always come say hello!
Because you'll always be there if something goes wrong.

I have been drinking a lot more lately. Mostly to help me sleep due to anxiety driven insomnia. Just a beer or two before bed mostly but a few weeks ago I was going to the bar after work four, sometimes five times a week. Spending money I didn't have or having my coworkers buy me drinks. I know I must not become reliant on it but right now its the only thing that is working. Hopefully it'll change.

It was a strange word on my lips
Staring at the beautiful blue stalk
"One dollar a stem" the sign said
The way it rolls of the tongue when you talk
One buck out, I headed back
To the place I stayed alone
It was too quiet, empty, and sterile
But it sure as hell beat staying home

I placed the little mourning stalk
In the place that she used to sit
She and I never really looked or talked
But somehow, her absence is amiss
So I took a plastic water cup
And those flowers of the evening sky
And in that hospital, like room
I would sit and ponder why

And though I felt alone
And isolated from it all
That drooping stem of delphinium
Made the room feel a little more calm

Because I knew things weren't
Perfect as they stood
But between this and my house
I'd stay forever if I could
But stay forever I could not
I had only one week left
So I buckled down, goal in mind
To make it the best week yet

Delphinium- the name of lonliness
The sound of wonder and fear
The word of friendship and adventure
Oh how I wish you were here

Just a memory from Gov school.
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