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Sasha Scarr Jan 15
I was young when you attacked.
Young and hopeful, taken aback.
You told me I would die like you, and do things I'm not meant to do.
Then, I couldn't comprehend, why you'd meet your untimely end.
Inside me it began to stir, strange things I suddenly remembered.
Another me? From a different time? Or maybe later down the line?
I was calm, and I was fierce.
Goodbyes were often insincere.
I left my wife  and child behind.
Because of this, they would die.
I was torn, but I was free.
They had not known what happened to me.
I was less than they deserved.
A conjecture, but still, ahead of the curve.
So I went on to see you again, I wonder what this visit contends?
I enter without warning, but here you are, prepared for me!
Your friend who stood behind the door, I dealt to him the killing blow.
I then began to feel regret, but wait! I haven't finished yet!
I wrap my hands around your neck, there and then I felt content.
A soul can't leave your lifeless shell, omega on your way to ****.
If I could watch you die again, I'll do it from my ink and pen.
Sumus System Jan 9
So many colors make up our bright mind
Only few can be seen by those outside
Our colors are wonderful, sweet and kind
Others of them are bitter, dark and hide
Each is a person hidden within us
Who want to be seen as real as we are
Sometimes they cry out they scream and they cuss
But they are nothing to fear, not by far
They are heroes who saved us from our death
Came forth from the back to stop the attack
They don’t want to wait until our last breath
Sure they have problems, but cut them some slack
Certain system members may be frightening to some, but they are heroes who kept us alive when we needed them.
Sumus System Jan 9
It was faint before but I can hear them now
They’re yelling and fighting to vow
They had no choice originally in the matter
But they’ve taken up their part and chatter
They try to work in any way they can
They take control and begin to plan
Helping us all through methods of coping
They give us a reason to continue hoping
They know the dangers of the world first-hand
Take up their place and together they stand
They save us from continued grief
They hide the pain and emerge brief
No one will mess with us again
My alters and I have lived through unspeakable things together. We kept each other alive when there was nothing to save us.
Anya Dec 2018
There's crumbs, all over my computer, all over my pants, all over
Me
Entropy, the natural state is it?
Humans attempting to force the unnatural?
The little graham ******* crumbs,
nothing keeping them together
anymore
But still, each individual crumb upon my lap houses millions of billions of trillions of
Individual pieces, that house
And so on               and                  So forth
Till you get to atoms
And eventually,
quarks

But, is it worth,
Looking, thinking, so infinitesimally small
When,
We've got bigger matters on our plate?
Things so large, red, and shiny, that they take up all the space
Except the little cracks that we miss,
Forget,
Or don't care about altogether

Because we've got bigger fish to fry


Right?
But then,
If we always keep chasing the dragon,
Won't we miss the shooting star lighting up the sky for just a moment?
As I was writing this I found multiple surprisings interpretations. That's why I gave it that title, it's filled with meaning yet a random mess at the same time.
Daniel eason Oct 2018
When there's no one else who cares
The world's astray
Maybe we could change one day
Evil forces
No remorses
Never will I fuel these extortionists
They rip you off make you blind
I'm pretty sure you might find
Another way a better day
Let's lead the way
to a  better place
Universal barriers shut down
There will no longer be people feeling down
Is it one life or is it multiple
our mind reaches out for a release of strain
Most of us just suffer in pain
It's the society we live it's so full of anger
Oneday people might know more about changa
A message to people who know there be more than what meets the eye.
Caroline W Mar 2018
So much faces
but the same eyes?
So different
from one second to the next?
Like clockwork at the day,
like a storm of chaos at the night,
like a sister at best friends side,
like a warrior to the rest of the world?
To hard to be the girl to love?
Understand that much, that ya need to love you?

I'm sorry.. it's me -
It's what i am ,or what we where..
'cause i was more than one..
broken as child,
grown in pieces,
splitted by pain,
reforged to one..

...but ever stay what i am..
..a guardian angel with a soul like a prism
To this acquaintance,
A rendezvous with midnight.
A gentle Déjà vu and in some sense
I wonder if an unspoken invite
Has played a part or two.
Does the past ever ensue?

Words do become an addiction.
Layer upon layer of repeated satisfaction
Interjected, felt and spewed.
Silken sheet’s confessions are
Best made in the ****.
These words, why are they so bizarre?

Oh let me write it right
Let me dream tonight
Upon this unarmored stage.
Let me free the fight
All through the night
Releasing it from its cage.

With a candlelit smile upon a face
The sheets do gently part.
What fills my heart
Is the gentle art
Of a finger painting slowly traced.
It has not been done by the ones
Lessening love absent of these notions.

What lies beneath must lie beside
As the past becomes renewed.
A gentle kiss a midst a torrents tide
The ***** beach subdued.
Wet sand shaping dry demands

Déjà vu be wooed.
Have you ever had that feeling that you had been somewhere before but you knew you hadn’t? Or met someone that you somehow knew yet had never met? Well this piece tries to deal with just such a feeling.
My fingers sometimes feel like they were meant for more.

I close my eyes and feel the realities clashing against each other.

A myriad of choices drowned out by the distance of a universe. I can see a trillion different fingers gripping pencils in different ways.

Watch from a billion pairs of eyes as my brain trickles art into the air in a billion different dreams. Count the infinite variations rippling out from each song I sing.

Each tune never played writes the outlines of the sketches I've only felt. The rings of possibilities never to pass pull themselves back into the pond. Memory retracting light from infinite universes.

I remember it's just me. In the dark writing words that don't seem to gleam like all the things my dreams wish I could be.
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