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Spadille Aug 30
My poems are a portal to my heart
A pathway to my universe

It is where my demons live
It is where my fears reside

My sentiments reside in this realm
And my deepest desire dwells in it

And I open my door for you
With welcoming arms

For I want you to get a glimpse of it
To get a glimpse of my heaven and hell
Cailey Weaver Jun 29
Coming out the other end of something has you feeling around to make sure you brought all your body parts through the portal with you.
Stress is when you feel your heart skip a beat,
the blood pumping through our veins and then our lungs start to squeeze sharply onto our rib cage, gasping....gasping for a breath and then we feel worse and everything we see turns grey and into anger, because the chemicals in our brain are feeding us drought.
Anxiety begins to fall in and i'm in panic mode.
Can't breath,
Can't think,
Hands grasping my hair tightly,
Headache pours in and then sometimes
the rain drops down like a wrecked felony and heart palpitations slowly ease after the clouds start to seize.
Time for a nap, sleep and retract our thoughts as they slowly drift away into a two time dimension.
Feeling lots of stress and anxiety lately.
Kanishka May 18
A single drop of water seems inconsequential,
But a bunch of them create alternate reality.
Should we continue to hustle where we are?
Or should we plunge into the one below where
time is loosened and us free of captivity?
Dive in with me.
A Simillacrum Sep 2019
Start to dance,
maybe my bones break.
Start to chant,
maybe my voice dies.

Start. Stop. Start. Stop.

With this wand,
I waive rust.
With this wand,
I let blood.

Start. Stop. Start.

I don't want blood.
I don't want to buff
your sword and
your armor
anymore.

I only learned
this trade
for the portal spells.

I only want to
escape.
Hoy se habré el portal
y te siento cerca
Las hojas se cristalizan
Bajó la luz

La rara concepcion del tiempo se

deshace y se desliza como pequeños listones naranja
sobre los párpados
De esta materialidad

Tomando en mano cada átomo
Y uniendose a el


Te encuentro en tu casa
Dentro de tu jardin
Regando tus plantas con tu manguera larga
flor de piedra
Jolan Lade May 2019
Please hold my hand as we step out of my dream
Please hold my hand and follow me through the portal from sleep into reality with me
Please don't be a dream
A Simillacrum Mar 2019
Chants in droning, layered voices
spin around me as the portal whips and swirls.

Vision leaves for blindness, then
returns again in purple tunnels, bending, twisting.

My mind appeals to enlightened reason
as a pain begins to escalate.

Somehow, I know the feeling coming,
and this one, I do not want to come.

My feathers and my skin, then reject
my body in its whole. I feel it peel away.
A Simillacrum Mar 2019
What a vicious punk --
I'm pretty sure he lies about his age.
What's with the bow and ponytail?
Desert skin curtained by auburn,
socketed with emerald eyes.
Who does he think he's fooling?

What a deplorable. . .
I'm pretty sure his skill with a sword
is comparable to beginners.
Pillow lips protect a silver tongue.
While we work, he's in the taverns,
playing at conversation.

What a queer young man --
Even back on Jalima he ruffled
feathers on the goodly wings.
I wouldn't trust a man who would
speak, over choosing violence.
Who does he think he's fooling?
Meanwhile, in Eastham. . .
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