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Mark Wanless Jun 2019
the mold on the bones
of a wolf ****
600 years ago
a good try in my opinion
MisfitOfSociety May 2019
Breathed in the breath of the saviour,
To richen the soul of the poor.
I puffed out a portal to the cloud kingdom.
Holding onto the scales of a dragon.
The earth beneath my feet begun to shrink,
And the sky above my head started to sink.
I caught a glimpse of what was behind the cloud,
And was dropped from a million feet high down to the ground.

I met an angel with a kick,
Wanted by the government.
Eyes as wide as rabbit holes,
As bright as a solar moon.
Black stars in between white spaces,
Generating a reluctant mold.
There’s golden flakes in its hair,
Its string chokes my throat.
I thought it was my angel,
Turns out it was fool’s gold.

When the fog sets,
And everything fades away;
I turn off my car headlights,
And stear into the grey.
I like to hide in the clouds,
They make me so happy;
But when I come back down,
They make me so sad.

Digging in my grave to find heaven,
Inhaling the smoke of another dragon.

I think I might have found my God.
I’m melting in his eternal sunshine.
Smoked the crumbled image of his face,
It turned my tears into wine.
The earth's my grave,
The sky's my cradle.
Unearthing my new low,
To find the highest place one can go.
newpoetica Mar 2019
what i long for are those lips,
to take long, slow, and passionate sips.
to caress your rough, worn face.
as you play around with lace,
both our legs intertwine under the covers,
as you and i mold into one another as lovers
Mackenzie Jan 2019
I know who I am
My moral's
Things that cannot shake me
But I'm drowning in my sorrow's
All of the things that continue to break me
I have let the bad things shape me
Mold me into a form I do not recognize
I know who I am
She is very hard to find
Under the debris and
The dark night's I can still see
My moral's
the things that cannot shake me
But I let the bad things break me
I dig and I dig through the mess
I’m depressed
My moral's may be something
I silently put to rest
Shea Jan 2019
I'm like mold,
Growing and infecting
Everything in my path.
Feed on the dying,
**** off the living.
I'm not a good person,
It's not that hard to see.

I'm like mold,
Growing and infecting
Everything in my path,
And when they find me out,
Like an apple picked too late,
I'm afraid they'll look down,
And throw me in the trash.
tobi Oct 2018
being different
may mean you’re not normal
at least to society
but it also means
you’re brave enough
to break the mold
and to me that’s more rewarding
than fitting in
break the mold 2k18
Born of ironwood and oak -
raised amidst fields of gold,
though rust tried to take you hold,
You mold your self to diamond hope.
Leila Valencia Mar 2018
The truth inside you will be a whisper
The most quiet sound.

No one would hear it, not even you

And as that voice in multitudes it said you will

And it said a word that shook your body
It shook your being
Every foundation - every cell - every experience
The sense of being shattered

And the broken pieces that bottled, closed, and caged you
In an invisible prison - one in which you never saw - these pieces
Will be a reminder...

For every time you think the past is catching up again...
You will stomp your feet harder: time and time again

This is the Real
Me
When the old you is replaced by the new you
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