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I once thought          of the bird           on  the window
            it cawed at me            I screeched back
I wonder     what what was it              about the bird      it wasn't
              that I was bothered         I just couldn't     Understand it
we went back          and forth          time passed slowly       through the
      rainy day       I began to realize        the bird       wasn't     lashing out          it simply       wanted to live          through the storm
    the storm        that followed     every place it went    what a silly bird
                            it should have just        simply asked
Millie Dec 2020
A poor resolution
Made by a frantic mind
In search of the calm voice
That slipped out the door

A sad boy
Unaware of the chaos
Searching for meaning
Where there lies none
Elle Vee Apr 2020
Why can't we forget
How the weeds grew in our yard
The ones we  removed
Em MacKenzie Aug 2019
You know I saw this from miles away
planted my feet determined to stay,
you’re always searching for an answer,
blatant location: Tropic of Cancer,
I try to give direction but it’s something I can’t say.

So don’t go giving up on me
I try my best to make it all easy,
but you’re determined to house this burden,
even though it’s certain I’m the person,
who’s always around even when you can’t see.

I’ve got the patience of a saint and some,
and gained belief and knowledge from
what dreams may come.

Well we’ve discussed this and more
opened the lines and opened the door.
So divided and undecided,
why try to fight it when we can’t hide it,
you can’t go showing someone truth they’re not ready for.

I’ve got the time to wait in slum,
some would say I’m playing dumb
for what dreams may come.

I’ll keep living under heavy thumb,
trying to convince myself I’m numb
to what dreams may come.
Colm May 2019
No more multitude of messages
Wasted words poured down a cavernous collapsing career of communication
Instead, crashing doors will be all in ears
Reverberating, on the day I leave this place for you
I much HATE miscommunications.
Kelsey Jan 2019
We lower our masks over our faces,
Put on our armor,
and get into our places.

You start with a playful jab
But it ****** more than you know.
I raise my weapon in defense,
You take a couple of steps back.
I think the match is done
Until you come swinging
Because you need to know that you've won.

If only you could take your mask off
when we're not sparring;
Maybe then we wouldn't need to fight.
tabitha Mar 2016
i will have it all some day,
as my "it all"  has nothing
to do with gilded halls &
shiny floors & iron doors
i am now concerned with
Better Things -- like
Love. and Order.

but oh, when i say i will have it,
& that i will have it all, i believe
more than i've believed
anything or anyone, ever at all.

when i say that; when i say
i  will  have it, &  that i will have it
all,    he   looks  at me  strange...
his eyes light up in bright green flames
like  a  pretty man  would
look  at a  silly,  deranged
little doll.  skeptical.  
as if the world has already graced
my porcelain skin with enough lace for it to be a sin
he has no idea what it's like  
to  be a  doll, at all; our pockets
are much too small and we are expected
to sit on shelves all day long .
he thinks that my all,
the "it all" of a doll,
is the "it all" of all....
a life of beauty and
wallpaper art,
of letting people dress you up
just to tear you apart.
he is.... jaded
by interrupted dreams,
and faded
by Jäger.
i have posed in his hands, to see his smile
i let him know
i want to know how he could move me
finesse me, brush my hair, confess to me.
not to then to lay me down, and forget me.
i am very familiar with the shelves of his soul.

he buttons his sleeves,
and goes on to his lunch affair;
his heart falls out when he jests/deflects.
he lets it lay there.

we are different kinds of hollow
Joanna Charis Aug 2018

Boy, why are you so elusive?
I’m standing right there;
Do you find me intrusive?
Do you even really care?

I want your attention;
I want you to notice me.
But everytime you look away,
I feel like I’ve been stung by a bee.



My eyes don’t tear away because of apathy;
On the contrary, I think you are truly lovely,
It is cowardice, you see, that keeps me from looking back at you warmly.

Please wait, one day, I’ll be brave
Enough to meet you in that familiar gaze.
Then we’ll smile and say, “hello”
I just hope
By then,
it won’t be too late.
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