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Antionicia Jul 2017
I have the heartbeats of a musician
My mind is flooded by eighth notes and melodies pound along my skull
Beg to be set free.
  
I don't play.
Never learned how
I long for the words that cannot be said
I yearn for the soaring birds and the lingering notes

Tears swell up
I disappear into a new dimension of my own
I feel the music tell a story
Stories of ineffable love and tragic heartbreak

The ups and downs
The all arounds
I feel it in my bones
I hear it every awakening moment

I long to be a player of music. The mistress of new tomorrow's and better yesterday's.
Daisy Rae Jun 2017
her body is a lock
but no one has the key
her heart is gold
that no one could ever buy
her mind is a masterpiece
that no one could ever paint
her past is darkness
that no one has ever seen
her faith is a rock
that no one is strong enough to break
her life is a puzzle
that isn't quite filled
but she won't give up until all her pieces are put together
each person has a piece
and if yours doesn't fit quite right
she'll notice
and she doesn't need your piece
you'll just make her lose focus
she's a maze
that you will never find your way out of
but she's the creator of her own life
she can find a way to get you to the exit
and no matter how hard you try
you'll never find your way back in
she's beauty
that no one ever saw
she's an original
that no one can ever copy.
Benji James Jun 2017
Have you ever tried to be someone else
Instead of being yourself
Because you felt as though
You'd make better impressions
And people you thought
that would never talk to you now will
Is this supposed to be how we feel
Instead of being original
Staying true to ourselves
We'd live a better life
In the mind of someone else
What about the fake,
if I don't act like me
is that something that can make a change
Is that something that will make
the people want to be friends with me

Yeah you say you don't want to be popular
Your happy being you
But why is it we always wonder
What it'd be like to be in another's shoes
They say you write your own stories
So why does it feel like it's written for me
You're born one day, the next
you're a slave trapped within life's cruel games,
you lose yourself more every day

Do you want to be a cover model
Do you want to be a star
Do you want to be a top businessman driving a fancy car
Do you wish to be a king or queen
Wish that you had money to buy everything you dreamed
Welcome to the madhouse
Where these thoughts drive you insane
Only the mentally strong survive
The rest are just runaway trains

I tried to be somebody else
Even creating a new name
Funny how the girl of my dreams
Now seems to talk to me
Not an image had she seen
But she told her whole life story
To me, well not quite me
But the character I envisioned
Somebody I brought to life
She entrusted secrets to a total stranger
Whom she had never met
So does that mean the closer
you are
That's when they shut you out
But feel comfortable with a total stranger

Yeah you say you don't want to be popular
Your happy being you
But why is it we always wonder
what it'd be like to be in another's shoes
They say you write your own stories
So why does it feel like it's written for me
You're born one day, the next
you're a slave trapped within life's cruel games,
you lose yourself more every day

Do you want to be a cover model
Do you want to be a star
Do you want to be a top businessman driving a fancy car
Do you wish to be a king or queen
Wish that you had money to buy everything you dreamed
Welcome to the madhouse
Where these thoughts drive you insane
Only the mentally strong survive
The rest are just runaway trains

Danger, danger,
you're not putting trust
in the ones you supposedly love
Who is willing to die and protect
You are letting out your inner most secrets
to people who'll take advantage
when you're at your lowest points
and it feels like there is no way out
Just cast yourself of doubt
Be happy with yourself
trust in the ones you love,
Try and see the beauty within yourself,
you're original and that's what's beautiful,
Be smart in your choices,
Don't be afraid to take risks
Just know sometimes there could be a consequence

Yeah you say you don't want to be popular
Your happy being you
But why is it we always wonder
what it'd be like to be in another's shoes
They say you write your own stories
So why does it feel like it's written for me
You're born one day, the next
you're a slave trapped within life's cruel games,
you lose yourself more every day

Do you want to be a cover model
Do you want to be a star
Do you want to be a top businessman driving a fancy car
Do you wish to be a king or queen
Wish that you had money to buy everything you dreamed
Welcome to the madhouse
Where these thoughts drive you insane
Only the mentally strong survive
The rest are just runaway trains

I'm learning to be happy in the choices that I make
I'm learning to think before I risk everything
But I'm not afraid to take chances
I'm learning to love myself
I'm trying to sustain my mental health
I'm starting to look after myself
I'm learning from the mistakes that I've been dealt
This is the story that I write
I'm choosing to be happy in my life
And this is where I am.

©2017 Written By Benji James
Latri Jun 2017
There was only a bittersweet silence in the confines of what once was a lively home as our love came to an end. Quiet, unmoving, almost as if we hadn't anticipated that this day would come.

We stood there, eyes downcast and shoulders heaving with painful breath after breath, neither one of us attempting to utter a single word. But what could we have said, then, that would make this pain dull into an unnoticeable ache? What difference would it make, in the long run?

Words couldn't be of any use to us now. Not when we had abused them, used them to gain the upper hand in our selfish, sadistic games months prior to this very day. A gentle but lethal poison that seeped into our bones, slowly killing us from the inside out. Words hurt us then, so surely they wouldn't save us now.

Gathering the strength to move was almost impossible, but being weak wasn't an option anymore. It was time for me, for us, to be strong. I didn't hate you, even when you caused me so much sorrow and took away the last ounce of light I had ever had in this life. I didn't hate you, because I know that this was never a one-sided play. I had hurt you just as badly, ripping you apart time and time again in blinding fits of jealousy.

One step. Two. We both walked forward, steps unsure and afraid, tentative smiles spreading across our soft lips. It was finally time. We reached each other, sable eyes meeting for the first time in a long time, and for once I found no shred of hatred or pity in sight. The kiss, the last kiss we'd ever give the other tasted bitter, and yet I couldn't bring myself to care, much. It was perfect, a kiss that helped lift away the blackened veil of hurt that had been bestowed upon me tonight.

Goodbye.

Gripping the last of my possessions, knuckles turning white while I tried to still my trembling hands, the last words were exchanged. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned, walking away from my home, and from you.

I felt radiant, as my pace quickened and I neared my old truck, its rusted exterior breathing new life into me. A surge of power and happiness flowed through me then, and I hoped that you could feel it as well.

Driving away from that place without a single glance backwards made this taste so much sweeter. Years of heartbreak and torture could never have prepared me for this feeling of liberation. Beautiful and refreshing.

We had finally found our freedom, and nothing would ever taste as sweet.

Throwing my best wishes out into the wind, hoping you'd catch them, the first laugh of many bubbled out of me, and I drove further away.

Deeper into the loving embrace of Reprise.
Izzy Jun 2017
You
You can be mad that I lied, but you can't be mad that I didn't tell you.
I am a million and one secrets wrapped only in flesh and blood.
You see the original drafts, the ramblings of my frantic mind, and no one has seen those, other than the trash.
I trust you more than anyone and I've shared the deepest parts of myself with you. You know my secrets.
I'm laid open in ways I've never been before and I'm scared.
I need my secrecy, I revel in it. I live in my darkness.
This is the farthest anyone has ventured into my mind and you've bravely ignored the warning signs posted just behind my eyes and every step along the way. And no one has done that before.
Eventually you'll get stuck on something and maybe run like everyone else has. Please tread carefully, The ground is unsteady, the silence speaks and the dark chaos reigns as king.
The only armor I've ever has against them is the ink stained paper I've wrapped myself in with my pen as my sword.
You've stripped my defenses from me and I feel lost without them.
Maybe you'll stay and fight, the brave and adventurous warrior I've come to know you as.
Maybe you'll run like those before you and leave me to piece my armor back together and ready myself for battle once again.
The ones before, the ones who turned around, the scared and frightened ones, they'd taken a piece here and there, keeping a trinket or two. They'd never braved the darkness of my mind, kept under lock and key, hidden away in caves and underwater, pieces littered along the landscape. You get closer with every word you read and this land fights back.
The warrior has conquered the king, the queen awaits in the castle.
Antionicia May 2017
Two bodies pressed together
Two bodies intertwined
Two hearts racing together
Two hearts beating as one
Two lips searching one another
Two lips tasting, feeling.

This is a sonnet of all that they were. Their passion was a beating drum crumbling down stone walls. Their love was a thunderstorm flooding the earth with its rage. Their bodies breathed for one another. Before they had never lived. Their bodies reached for another, bracing, igniting. Fire oh the fire.

Fire of two bodies.
I just wrote this last night, so it's kind of a mess. But maybe some of you will like it (:
donia kashkooli May 2017
as you can tell, i write under my real name now. my pseudonym, z. vega will always be a part of me, but i'm at the point in my life where i am so emotionally vulnerable that hiding behind kind of a secret identity isn't something my heart's telling me to do.
2. i wrote a third book. it's called "swingers" (spelled "swngrs) and it would mean the world if y'all would check it out! https://www.amazon.com/Swngrs-Donia-Kashkooli/dp/1545581932
3. i realized that all i want to do for the rest of my life is write.
Antionicia May 2017
To be honest...
I've always wanted to fly, not like a bee...
Or even a bird!
But like a Butterfly...
I long to beat my wings, long to take flight.
I dream of touching the clouds…
Being one with the sky.
Some days... I wish I could escape. Some days... I wish I could leave...
But I'm not a butterfly…
I'm not some magical creature who can't even see her beautiful wings... No.
I'm a pitiful human living in this world with other pitiful beings...
Oh how I wish I could fly...
Antionicia May 2017
Just like your handwriting
You’re a mess
You hide yourself
By cunning words
Trying to disguise how you really feel
But that’s okay
I see right through the facade
You are the type of guy
Who sometimes cries alone
In his room
The type of guy
Who teases and messes with girls
Making them feel awful
Because it’s hard to express how you really feel
You are the type of guy
Who never shows his inner thoughts
You don’t believe anyone will understand
The chaos in your mind
But that’s okay
I see right through it
I am the type of girl
Who’s willing to put
My heart out there
However
You are the type of guy
Who never sees
A girl like me.
Antionicia May 2017
And so, the darkness came
Scraping over each grain of sand
Chopping down each blade of grass.
And made you his own.

Once the shadows  embraced you, mind, body, and soul
You sunk into a chilly enclosure of sadness and anger
You lose hope of ever seeing the sun again

The black had a way
Of suffocating its victims
Cutting out their voice
So they couldn't cry
So they couldn't plead.

But every once in awhile
There will be fractures of light
Puncturing tiny holes within the thick veil
Small, but radiant

When you're touched by even a small ray
You are lifted higher
It may be just a little bit
But soon you'll crack your  way through the broken sky

And you'll be home
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