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Daniserena Jul 31
A fancy tuxedo and a black leather glove for each hand, could this be Patrick Bateman? or punk in a band?
no, it's Digital Man.
Yes a real man, with a screen head of course, would you look at him this strangely if he was a horse?.
He just goes about his day, and people judge and take pictures of him in each and every way.
He just wants to be treated like everyone else, and not put on display like some little mouse.
Why is society so blind and judgemental and cannot see, that I'm just like him and he's just like me?
Leisha Dias Jul 24
Placed beside you
Or did I hypnotically walk to you
Was it a game of fate and destiny
Or was I simply charmed by your spell
Was I meant to be here
Or did I want to be here
All I can decipher right now is that,
I lie here and you beside me.
At such close proximity
Feeling you at every edge
Like two pieces of a puzzle.
A piece of puzzle with curves and edges
Rough curves and worn out edges
But did I really fit in?

I tried hard,
Just as I tried all these years
At all the wrong places
Chiseling my sharp edges into curves
Curves that would now fit perfectly
All the while, losing a part of me.
Just making me question,
Is this yet another wrong spot
Didn't seem wrong to the world
Then why do I still feel like a misfit
Like a square peg in a round hole
Or has this constant trying to fit in
Leave all my edges frayed
I no longer recognize anymore.

Still lying beside you,
Still dont seem to fit in,
Still questioning,
Is this yet another wrong spot?
Mercy Jul 17
Today someone tried
To resolve my
Let go issues
I chuckled.

I can't narrate to them
The battle within
The one you let
Your guard down
Swallow your pride
And accept defeat
Despite the voice within to fight.

Another says He loves me
I look deep within
Their eyes and
Face a wolf hungry
Ready to devour their prey.

But you were my shadow
Where when the going gets
The tough kept going
And through my veins
Reigned trust
For when the light desipated
You closed-in within me
Keeping me warm.

But this time
Its cloudy and as nice
As it was to wake
Jump out to greet
You before me
This time i waited only
To get wet from the
Continuos druming
Of rain drops
My stomach flooded.

Each night oozing out
Bits of salty flows
From my fluffy reddened
Accepting some battles are
Won by bowing to
A drowned body starts by wearing off its spirit.
The stitch in mine
Is not like yours
A cut deep down
Into my soul
Am made of dust
From stars below
In shades I flourish
Deep dark I flow

At home I am
Inside my hull
Away from bias
Rubbed in salt
Away from dispute
Hatred immense
Inward I look
In my defense

Observer of time
A soul so old
Rivaling the titans
I stand so bold

Infuriating accession
From exterior advances
Yet trudging along
Onwards alone

I go
Can I rest now?
Spend the evening tracing roots
Try to grasp the awe i.e Poe
Doyle & Christie's original truth
Can I revere now?
At a genius' mind of old
While Chopin fills the backdrop
With his beautiful tones
Can I withdraw now?
From all the noise there is,
From all the ire there is,
From all the strife there is.
Can I just get lost?
For this moment that slithers,
For a retreat not far away,
To events not common today.
Go on what's stopping you?
The vigor I took to flight
Fails to make a landing
Then flies away from me
I see it flapping its wings
And laughing in my face
Like a school ground bully
Laughing at the pretty boys
So shamefully faking
A mad ruthlessness
With no cause or call to act
Their juvenile jealousy
Is invisible only to they - them
For who wouldn't want to fly?
"Sit down",
I stood

"Don't run",
I could

"Take it",
I'm good

"Be happy",
My mood

"Routine and rote",
'Bizarre' I wrote

Crisis is here,
We need a maverick!
Sans fear,
Somebody, quick!

I stood
Moth Mar 6
fidget and shuffle
the weight of it pulls me down
surrounded but alone
Prompt 5: How it feels when you don’t belong in a group of others.
Mary-Joy Feb 25
You could tell she was trying hard,
Which girl doesn't try to mould their own skin to fit in?
You could tell she was trying to impress,
But as someone who knew better, I should have told her to rest,
But she was trying to hard to make it,
She was going all the way to fake it,
And I could tell,
She wore the sheepish smile,
But I knew this act so well,
She was like me,
I am like her,
She was a miss that just didn't fit,
No matter her effort,
She wasn't going to fit,
Cause neither did I,
And as I watched her try I knew why I gave up,
Cause I was a misfit and I had it tough.
Innocent Jan 3
You are not looking young,
That's what my mother keeps saying to me.
But there is a problem,
A big problem,
A problem with myself,
That problem is difference
I don't think like you, maybe worse
I dont reason like you, maybe abnormally.

But I drink,
And then I am good,
I make friends,
I remember how urgent I am,
But then drink, it's a route to an end,
Wilshere! my friend calls
One thing will **** a man,
So i drink, this time from the bottle
To look for who i am,
But all i see, is what i hear them call me;
Failure, shame, disgrace, liar, thief, lazy, loser,
Then I rage at them,
Promise to take revenge for the pain,
Then they come back,
Seeking my assistance,
And I help them,
Am I not a loser and a failure?
Then they have been right about me.
some are out there feeling very differently from the world, they lack common abilities, but deep down are endowed with rare gifts
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