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Ajax Oct 2019
Unable to feel, unable to heal, unable to mend
Looking around for a new friend
But It crept up on the lifeless body, like a plague
Lungs started collapsing, oxygen grasping
Feeling every thought, every pain, it felt life ending…
A mind at war ready to surrender…

A Losing battle of emotions destroyed by fear
Body on strings wishing it could finally disappear
Controlling puppeteer, filling a body of agony
Screaming help from the start, but the heart was drowning
Wanting to feel free, but demons in the brain
Attacking lifelines of nerves, turning into a war zone

Falling through levels of sanity, ripped from the body
Turning imperfection into the power of its perfections
A life, a heart, a body now finally ripped apart
Scars unable to be seen, just felt through the misery
Demons on the prowl, ready to **** but unable to feel

A body remaining in pain with demons locked in the brain
Hiding the key was its goal, now give back the body
Plague of illness taken over, people see the pain
Scars now plague an empty canvas of skin and blood
Running down arms from the self-harm…

Unable to understand the battle of illness
Evil within all people, but only certain bodies can heal
A body running out of time, slowing dying out
Bodies live, bodies die, but this one went out too young
The mind is the bodies relentless enemy.

Sympathy being given, eulogies being written
Generations in pain, like blood leaving the veins
A body now free with people mourning the loss
Now able to feel, now able to heal, now able to mend
Looking around for a new friend once again…
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
How do I explain to you the feeling of
inadequacy when someone loves or compliments?

How do I explain to you the fear of being a disappointment
or not having climbed up to someone's level of expectation?

How do I explain when without warning I am plagued
with self doubt, layered with chaotic-heavy-blues
and harboring insecurities?

How do I explain when I don't want
these thoughts to matter?
when I just want them to be deprived
of care that they die within,
and never surface to my skin.

But somehow like the crashing waves
they envelope me in the depths and like
the black hole **** me from within.
Asante' Mar 2019
I have faith
that one day
I will no longer be
plagued
by the thought
of you.
Haylin Jan 2019
Stress.

























































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Oh, and education, I guess.
Luna Jay Jan 2019
The environmental fade.
This industrial plague-
The materialistic rage that keeps
Our very society intact.
The plastic facade
Of man made hate,
Minutemaid trade
One minute after the attacks.
Against who today?
Who is to blame?
For this unending, cyclical
Societal maiming
Of the people who do not
Follow in your tracks?
Brothers,
Take a step back.
Look at what you´ve created.
This angry, killing war machine
Whose views are simply outdated.
Constructing thoughts that decompose,
Weight of words made the herds feel emaciated.
Society is crumbling and you’re concerned
With feeling validated?
Social media leave you exposed
And aggravated.
Brandon Conway Nov 2018
A gravekeeper by trade
burying the dead to stay alive
with a green thumb and *****
the unused earth oh how it strives!

Fat tubers and roots
green leaves with red veins
small vines sprouting fruits
even a small section for grains

The gravekeeper never goes hungry
his family never starves
he loves living in the country
and his plot of earth that he carves

One day two fresh dead
and a rat, maybe two scampered by
soon a sickness to be widespread
day by day how that multiplied!

More bodies into the earth
how did his garden shrink
he was crying and crying
this gravekeeper didn't know what to think!

Should he be happy for business
should he be sad for the loss
is he crying for his vegetables
or is he crying for the bodies that are tossed

Little by little did the green become stone
his loved ones feast on a diet of worms
now he, a lonely gardener of bones
sits and watches as his world burns
Caitlin Oct 2018
It's the 21st century
But I'm still suffering from bad humours
Where you lay in bed because your chest is caving in
I guess that's why they call it depression.

It's okay, just put on a bird mask
Fill it with sage and breath in the fumes
While the memes tell you you're the bad energy in the room

It's easier to go to internet strangers
And admit that maybe you might be in danger
Than to tell your mom that you're ready to leave her
"I'm fine because I always am."
That's not really an answer.

Everyone gets sad sometimes
We don't take it seriously anymore
Because death doesn't scare us
What scares us is 60 more years
Of wondering what the point is
Working at a job we hate
To buy another mocha latte with
Six shots of espresso
Just to stay awake through the ballet performance
Put on by our children
That we felt obligated to have
Through pressure of society
But yeah, it's just depression
Everyone has it
Its fine
There's always someone who has it worse
Just grow a pair
Cowboy up
It can only go up from here
Right?
Brandon Conway Aug 2018
I watched as your webbed nest grew
In the branch of the front yard tree
A plague of squirming brood
Not that a web of a spidering

Yours was much too thick
As I braved a finger, fear quelled
Skipped on using a stick
Strong and sturdy she held

“Are these caterpillars?”
You asked, I replied
“I think they are.”

You asked for the destruction of civilization
“You need to cut these down.”

“I can’t, I been watching them grow,
Watching this web slowly take over.
Now I see on every tree
When I’m out driving
Their villages
Where they live
Feeding off the leaves
If these are so common
Why are butterflies so rare?”

You responded with no care
“They are ugly, I don’t like them.”
  
I watched the rest of that tree
Be consumed
I hope that plague
Becomes beautiful soon
Benjamin Mar 2018
Doctor,
mask with a long bird's beak
looking like a horn,
checks out

what's hidden under
the grotesque version of
scales, that colorful and
wiggly fishes own

- abscesses.

A green-eyed girl
face still frozen
from the horror of the plague.

Doctor takes a deep breath
coveres the patient,
who sometimes was called -

he can't say it
but still feels the first time
when she was on his
protective lap and she cried
like the world was too
big to handle in the first day.

Now, The Doctor
feels the world is
too cruel to handle

in their last days.
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