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Em MacKenzie Aug 17
Told me to close my eyes and count to ten,
I counted down to one and then back up again.
It almost feels like it’s a crime
how blatantly I waste my time,
what does it matter? If it would shatter, it would still be mine.

Nightly I brush my hands against the dark sky,
I know it’s painted with splotched stars but not seen by the eye.
It’s creating ice cold fingers,
and a chill that lingers,
though bold, I was never a fan of cold.

It’s just that I’m trapped in another space,
my time and reality are lacking trace,
I’m right that I’m in the wrong place.
Or maybe we’ve just all been dead for years,
no one wants to add to their fears,
but the thought is turning gears.
It’s plausible, not impossible.

Told me to close my eyes and spin around,
counter and clockwise I whirled until I was on the ground.
I feel too old to play hide and seek,
strong night vision but perception’s weak,
I’m lacking balance, it’s never been in my talents, it’s looking bleak.

It’s just that I’m trapped in another space,
unable to alter my choices in this case,
the isolation and void I just can’t face.
Or maybe I’m just separated from the galaxy,
outcasted from the place I’m meant to be,
stuck in the shoes of an alternate reality Emily.
Growing more deranged, some things don’t change.
b e mccomb Apr 22
two concepts
dance around
in my mind
from time to time

the first one is
secure
small towns and
familiar faces
streets with grass
growing in the cracks
and parking lots with
the footprint of my
disintegrating shoe
pressed into fresh asphalt

streetlights that
come on to let
me know it’s time
to go home
a soft place
to call my own

the second one is
romantic
intriguing and scary
traffic and lights
and people and buildings
that fight to reach
into the clouds
an unfamiliar city
with corners and caveats
to explore for the first time

lights that never
burn out
restless crowds
to fade into
as soon as someone
learns your name

two very different thoughts
both equally
concerning in
two very different ways

complacency or
out of place?

i refuse to give
myself an answer
or maybe i’m afraid
to let myself wander

but a third question
knocks on my
skull and
lets itself in

and i can’t help
but wonder

what does
five in the morning
feel like when you
can’t see the sunrise
casting shadows
on empty fields?

does the world still
find a moment to
release its breath
before the day begins
when the city didn’t
even sleep the night before?

what if i don’t
belong here?

which outcome would
leave me least misplaced?
copyright 4/21/19 by b. e. mccomb
Sienna Jan 29
like a tumble ****
rolling down a city street—
i dont belong here

and i know it.
imai Jan 23
it feels like i am dreaming
even in waking life—
to long for feelings I’ve never felt
to miss a presence I’ve never met
to relive a memory I’ve never had
it feels strange to miss things
that have never happened
to wish to come back to a time
that has never occurred
to once again be the person
I never was
to revisit a place
I’ve never been

Indeed, it feels strange
to want all that
I’ve had only in my dreams.
I dislike the comma
Whips words while walking

Placed between two words
Whips the former and warns latter to behave and keep space

The comma is a pain
I love it
When words walk without whips
And breathe Free
MB Nov 2018
Never lost, just misplaced
Our fingers remain interlaced
Like the bitter aftertaste
You will never be replaced

Never lost, just misplaced
What a disgrace, this human race
So many lives just go to waste
And the past can never be erased

Never lost, just misplaced
Sometimes lost within the haste
I’ll never forget the look on your face
I love you mom, despite my hate
/mb
mslu Nov 2018
serendipity

i've dipped in and out

the mountains i thought i moved took back their strength

and in the taking,
cracked open the ground

leaving me off-balance than before

yes, i should've fought back but


serendipity

i stay dipping in and out

there's no such thing as control

no such thing as handled

a loose grip

had me falling through the cracks
and as i fell onto hard times

the darkness welcomed me

so i stayed

. . .
Madisen Kuhn Oct 2018
the bits of apple
between my crooked bottom teeth
remind me of all the homes i’ve lived in
or almost lived in
that have left a sweet but spoiled taste in my mouth
as they rot just under my nose
i have yet to find a place to rest my head
not a clean pillow or warm chest would welcome my cheek
but i have looked and obsessed and tried
i have tried
my fingers ache from all the golden knobs i’ve reached out to
just to have them slammed in the door
again and again and again and againandagainandagain
the wide and narrow roads are lined with
quaint front porches and crooked mailboxes
they are bursting with life
sad ones and dramatic ones and unremarkable ones
gasping and pulsing and humming
but there is nothing suited for me
all the welcome mats have been flipped over
before i clear the front step
so i keep running my tongue over the bite of longing
in places i rather not be
Jon Thenes Apr 2018
Reliving and Preliving
may all my signals ghost to sway
Just falter information
i shall be spirited and a weather
A clamour among all my houses
an assault laid upon my understanding
Tired
in knots
combing out the fantastic
a floss upon a sea
and not a wound
; Misplaced I shall better be.

and then I breathe
this is no longer to be
I am in practice
; unfooled to better be
Karisa Brown Jun 2018
She wants to feel important
She wants someone to see her talents
And smile and laugh

To share a common bond
A similar interest
Cause right now
She mostly feels alone

And the silence
Doesn't fill her
Her soul rots away

If she can't get away
From her inner demons
She fears she'll soon fade

Her inner child wants
to feel joy again
To sparkle and such

To light up her eyes
Is all she'll ever want
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