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William A Poppen Jan 2017
Illusions of skydiving in a kimono
are not nightmares that awaken her
in a sweat each night

Fantasies of floating like a drone
creep into morning daydreams

Unprepared for make-believe
no kimono hangs in her closet

Each day she stands in front
of her full-length mirror
stares at perceived imperfections
as they thicken before her eyes

Friends don’t notice
each misplaced mole
or cellulite pleading
to hide from any

Co-workers notice her
post-it-note headline

“Intelligent Perfect Women
Skydives in Kimono”

affixed to the cubicle wall

Today results of
her search for kimonos
of various colors
is carefully placed in
a folder entitled skydiving
My wife wonders where the idea for this poem came from.  My answer - I have no idea.
Kelsey Brewski Jul 2016
Nimbostratus clouds overcast
Overcast tears
Crying, crying all day, all night
Sad girl
Bad girl
Dead to the world
Done with death itself

Staring into the blue and black sky
Reminds me of my stained skin
Reminds me of the palette I use to paint
Nothing is the same
Nothing is getting better
Staring staring staring

Digital phone calls
In real life conversations
**** Bill Volume Two
Better than my life

So I sit in the parlor
Eat my skin
Dance in the rain outside
Let my body bleed
Let the rain poison my blood
My heart will **** me anyway

Watch it all play out
None of this is really true
It's all inside my head
It's all just make believe

Because you see
I'm sick
I'm really sick
I have been since the day
Mom pushed me out
I've got daydream fever
And this world is not my own
© Kelsey Austere, 2016
Rafael Melendez Jun 2016
I play make-believe nowadays, pretend that I'm not alive. It's the only way I know how not to fear death.
ji Mar 2016
The worst way to lose somebody is to be, in his heart, ordinary; to be his luxury turned duty.

And the things he do, he does them to keep up with you, but not anymore to keep you.

This is when you'll know you've lost him. This is when it will hurt. But only until this you'll know you've loved deeply.

Your lips would blister with prayers for his return, but no poetry in the world could touch his soul and guide him back to your arms--

none unless the words are yours.*

P.S. *You'll only truly lose him when you start to think that maybe after all, you've never truly loved him. And that is also when you'll lose yourself-- to your own make-believe.
Unsent Letters would now be my series.
maria allyssa Dec 2015
the perfect mistake
doesn't come into your life
as an ugly thing

oh darling, it's like
warm fire on a cold winter
heating up your skin

it's like finding this
oasis in the desert
quenching up your thirst

it even comes as
human presence on sadness
candle in the dark

the perfect mistake
never regrets hurting you
and will eat you whole

it's thought-consuming
like a passionate first kiss
creating daydreams

fulfilling wishes
like shooting stars in the sky
or is it your eyes?

comes as a surprise
the kind that leaves you breathless
filling the spaces

the perfect mistake
won't come with horns and tail but
as this boy you like
(c) maria allyssa
a haiku written in ten minutes
Anabel Nov 2015
she is a
true pretender—
the kind that
never returns
to the scene
of the crime
where reality
was murdered
June Montag May 2014
unscrupulous universe
     steeped in illusion and so
infernal edges chafed
     against tinfoil stars
     bent and
they make believe that they are beautiful.

unscrupulous people
     sharply disillusioned and so
rough edges filed smooth
     with makeup and glam
     but they're still
     bent and
they make believe that they are beautiful.

understated words
     creating an illusion and so
dark corners coming
     alive under the
     pretense of fiction
     bent but not
they know that they are beautiful.
we all make believe.
Ceryn Mar 2014
I got to let go now
but not sure which way to go
or which road to tread on
when I know I still need you
by my side to carry on.

I've been pushing them away
regret is all that's left to stay
perhaps, I need some time to grow
to bring back my lively glow
'cause I have thrown my days away.

Somehow, I want to tell you much
or make you feel my scorching touch
my heart races as I see your face
or even just upon hearing your name
it doesn't really go away that fast.

You left me waiting, wanting to be free
but all you ever made me see
I got no chance to feel true love
all I deserve is some game of luck
in your love, I'd be forever stuck.

*I didn't mean to be so foolish
I didn't dream to be enslaved
In love, I've always been so stupid
But my heart will always feel the same
Yet time will come that we'll both come to know
You'll have to regret your make-believe show
Take your own pains away and let go
Because I am not going to be there anymore.

— The End —