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Nikita Oct 2020
Pull me
Push me
Force me
And trap me

Build me
Create me
Destroy me
Lie to me

Wrap me
Seal me
Deliver me
And ship me

No matter how much
You try

No matter how much
It hurts

I will escape
Categories, labels and boxes. Don’t stifle who I am. I am not a women to be silenced.
Arisa Mar 2019
I bet that man,
he with his white cap,
smashed my box against the wall
as he so carelessly
dumped
my package on the doorstep.
A little aggravated at the state of my packages.
Ivan Brooks Sr Dec 2018
It's 3 am and no sign of her flight
I have waited for countless hours.
If my love doesn't come tonight,
I'll be stuck here with these flowers.

I sat and waited in anticipation
Of caressing my beautiful package.
I could feel the mounting frustration.
Tonight,no lips,satin and cleavage.

Every minute,every second I waited,
My heartbeat played a very new note.
Like when music and poetry debated,
I felt love and symphony to my core.

Hours went by,no sign of the flight.
I squinted,tilted and let out some air
There wasn't a lone female in sight.
At home ,I found a lady with long hair.

IB-Poetry©
17/12/2018
Nothing to say,.....up to y'all.
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
Feast your eyes upon all the
                                       mangled
                                                twitching
                                                            bodi­es

trapped in the grills of fat and
                                                        brown
                                                              pa­ckage
                                                           ­         trucks

so far away from the idyllic blades of
                                                                ­ green
                                                                ­        and
                                                                ­           sun

crossing ***-hole asphalted rivers where
                                                               alligators
                                                                ­        speed
                                                                ­            amuck

We all get hurt crossing seemingly
                                                       empty
                                                           perilous
                                                        ­           streets

and end up in some wolf-dressed-as-sheep
                                                                ­    machine's
                                                                ­               sharp
                                                                ­                     teeth

are we different from the insects
                                                 roaming
                                                              on­
                                                            inst­inct?

If only you could wiggle your body more to the side
but the alligator never slows and the wind is a bonafide
                                           bully.                                              
At least I can see whats ahead, might as well enjoy the ride.
forestfaith Jun 2018
What you give, you will receive.
You give hatred to another, hatred would come back.
You give love, love would be given back to you.
It works in such mysterious ways, this system.
You give hatred to God, you still get love back...
I love that...
eventually though, it would not end well if you just keep hating on God.
Nope. It will not end well.....not well at all...
SQUID Aug 2017
Art
Art is just a way for
some - to organise
our thoughts and to
deliver them.
Janelle Tanguin Dec 2016
I am one
learning how to
carefully seal
myself shut;

still working on
the art of hiding
in less obvious spaces
that won't give me away,

folding myself
onto myself
like messy origami
forming no figure,

my pale skin
being tinted by sunlight,
my hollow cheeks
being surrounded by sunny faces

that have no idea
how much all I want
is for the rays to
melt these glaciers.

I tie my hair
with bright red ribbons
like I am a present
with no future, no past.

Might want to unwrap me
only to find a box
empty,
consumed.

I do not hold
anything

for you.

I cannot even hold
myself

for me.
(2015)
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