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Mark Stephens Jan 2017
Flowers and sunshine
You can't touch me
With my bubble of inocences
Running around with best friends
Nothing can turn my world upside down
Can't see the hate in people's heads

Flowers and wind
Ripple through my hair
Feels like I'm flying
This high up not even the birds can touch me
My seemingly lonely pillar of happiness
Can't relize the fake ground miles
With my friends

How can this happen
My life before my eyes
With flowers and streaks in my sight
Deaf of my ears listen and rain clouds in my head
The place of comfort with walls
Now screaming
No emotion for the flower fields

Flowers and lightning
People are ripped from my grasp
Seems like happiness has faded
Never to come back

Flowers and laughter
Coming from her black cruel mouth
Shut down the gates
Don't let anyone get in
Kick others out who say it's a sin

My flower fields are dying
Lack of water and tears
No emotion for the dead flower fields
Pauline Morris May 2016
This silence is brutally violent
The voices in my head went silent
My thoughts continue to race
They stir no emotion, just empty space
A pulverized heart keeps beating
The thumping in my chest keeps repeating
The wells in my eyes have ran dry
No more tears will be cried
Not a thing to keep me reeling
No emotion, no feelings
I'm afraid I've succumbed
Laying on a bed of thorns, feeling nothing but numb
Meg B Jun 2014
Is life nothing more
than a series of moments
strung together
like a poorly crafted
beaded bracelet,
the flimsy string base
nearly broken
under the weight
of the hand-woven design?
Or is the design not even
of our own creating,
fitted and shoved together
by someone else,
our will and drive
to fall in line,
in pattern
with what we are
supposed to do?

I've been here for a lifetime,
or at least a quarter of one,
but the glue that
keeps me together,
it feels sealed,
stuck together
under the command
of something or someone else,
some entity that is not myself.

Day after day
feet following
in military style march,
left right left,
pumps beating hard
on the pavement
running, propelling me forward.

My robotic heart
pumps lead,
tongue tastes metallic
as it formulates
the expected utterances
for the ambitious woman.
Yes sir, yes ma'am,
achievements regurgitated
at pairs of ears
who listen merely
at how formulated,
premeditated phrases
may prove themselves worthy.
I aim no higher
than Mount Everest,
spitting my list
of captivating factors,
of perfected musings
of this unlivable habitat
I am to call life,
when all I truly yearn to do
is scream out
the loudest yelp,
that, no,
this isn't all that fascinating,
and, yes,
I would rather
pucker my
dried, worn out lips
around a cold glass
and inhale some
clarity and serenity.

Is a life that's driven,
that's focused,
that's ****** hollow,
its meat devoured by ambition,
is that a life that's lived,
or have I given
Juliet Escobar May 2014
An endless waterfall of emptiness
leave her, love her, hurt her, she does not care
she longs to care but she is covered and bundled in a thick quilt that poisons her everything with “nothing”
something is missing, the tears are missing
she knew she would be okay because of the streams that would flow furiously down her cotton felt rosy cheeks
she knew she would be okay because of the tender most voluntary light tears dancing gracefully across the marbled floor that was her face
but now,
she does not know if she will be okay because of the dessert like dryness of her eyes,
and the solitude her cheeks and lips have felt for quite some time now
something is missing, she is missing
she has been looking for what seems like a million years all over her now pitch black universe for herself
she had colors
she had stars, moons, millions of suns and planets within her
now the color black is the mere most perfect description of everything she has become
the battle between deciding what to feel out of all that she felt is over
she feels as an invisible soul that has passed from our physical world feels;
anger, rage because he is truly incapable of touching those who he stands infront of all day, he cannot do anything about the fact that he is invisible and non existent to all those he wishes to be noticed by
she feels anger, rage because she finds herself incapable of touching her emotions
frustration because tears no longer dance across her face
she feels invisible to her reflection in the mirror because she remembers the image of a person
an actually person
who is able to cry when sad and smile when happy
she is no longer able to show any physical emotion so she sees no reflection
a thick black fog invades her physical body and soul crawling through her eye sockets, her mouth, ears ,nostrils, and pours
it invades her psyche with all its blackness and abducts all the stars, moons many suns, and planets converting her inner universe into endless caves made of  millions of tunnels that make love with emptiness and darkness
she has become a maze
beautifully numb, impatiently lost, sedated by absence

she is me, and i,
have been kissed by apathy.
paralyzing me and incapacitating me from myself is what this beautiful demon has done to me
she touched my lips and altered my thoughts
persuaded me into the belief that she would protect me
she told me that if i did not feel i would not hurt
at the time that i fell in love with her i was in a state where i would of taken my life just to end all feelings and confusion within me
she offered her anesthetic kiss,  
i took it
as she relentlessly took over me i started to realize…
now i fear it be to late
i know the end to this maze will be the gate to my stars, my moons, my many suns, and planets
and i will run for what now seems an eternity
but i will not give up on my universe


— The End —