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Anya Mar 6
Youthful soul who risked your prayers
Do not let your mind be taken
Forget their fear and well known snares
It was not you we had forsaken

He of bone and ghostly drape
Who greets us when we’re ill
Do not disown your late escape
Until the dying lay still

Man of marrow protect his lie
As many have seen it so
And it is why the virtuous die
As it is a life they would forgo
She's a supermodel without the penthouse
It's a million dollar mistake if you're not careful
The overall outlook seems baleful
It can still be amended
This is a tiring game of pretended
I'm just hoping I've contended
We're in a time where people say whole lots of words but never meant them
Poetry plays a hand in it's crazies, cheaters and wifebeaters
Why are you trying to be her?
She has nothing on you and that's a fact
I care for how we interact
If you're not seeing someone let's have a discussion
You've dealt with and dished out the repercussions
I'm hoping to be the one the curve the stock arrow
Your life, your wishes, your fears, your passion
Each and every inch of your bone marrow
Don't worry about your one room apartment
The neighbors will have to understand
I care about you and your potential
Giving you something you always deserved
If not me, somebody better
They're out there somewhere.
Anthony Mayfield Jun 2018
Burning glory,
Of such I’ve never seen.
Of which I’ve only dreamed.
Such light,
To shine upon the sins.
Thick smoke,
To choke the loss to win.
Who wins?
They win.
White ash,
To remind of your decay.

Crows fly,
Their carrion play.
They clap,
A murderous parade.
They bleed,
Yet they don’t so who’s to say?
I say,
You say.
Who wins?
They win.
A pause.

The next day is still.
***** upon the hill.
Who knows,
What happened on that day?
The monument,
To remind the price to pay.
We’ll pay.
They’ll pay.
I say,
You say.
Who wins?
They win.
They always win.
They want to watch us fail and suffer in the midst of our own mistakes. They have pyres waiting for all of us.
schuyler Jun 2018
your voice
is like the grating of stone,
it steeps down
to the marrow of my bones.
your eyes
are grey as rocks,
but with a splotching
of river-green moss.
though you’ve a calloused shell
you ring of softness—
that poet’s bell.
"you" is a person i have not met
Corey Sep 2017
Eyes that defy color
and always reset to the same gaze
Lips soft as silk
and a shade warmer than the sun

What moves me most is not your features,
but the depths of your being.
Your bones, and the weight they hold.
A quick work that'll probably be revised a whole lot.
wraiths Oct 2015
im trapped. im inside this ******* cage with no way out. i cant get rid of this black hole swirling inside me. it's eating my insides and soon there'll be nothing left of me. i need to scream with such power that all the sickness and fear and thoughts of death will radiate off of my body and shoot into the sky and disappear into a void festering somewhere other than myself. but i cant. i'll go back to hiding away and crying under stained bedsheets, preparing for the impact that the supernova will have on the disintegrating marrow inside my aching bones. i don't need you. i already cause enough lacerations on my own.
Scratching, clawing
Clenching, gnawing
Pick at the wound
Tear it open, rip it up
Free the bone from its
Prison of skin
Separate the marrow
From within
Light it up, burn it down
Incinerate the concept

— The End —