Welp its been mighty fun these last few years I've lived here...
As I look at my little apartment it kinda saddens me to leave it behind.
I moved to this beautiful state because I couldn't wait to settle down finally.. be happy with the man I married start a family and spend the rest of my days in a small beautiful town fit to raise a little family of my own...
I chuckle to myself because thats all it was just a stupid little pipe dream.
I stare at these empty moving boxes and I know this is what God wants for me.
I know he's heard my tear filled prays and my prayers of a better life.
And he finally answered me.
The situation im running towards will fill this empty heart of mine.
I will get to be alone for once with my thoughts.
The choas will no longer dance around me.
I wont have to take care of anyone but myself.
No more carrying the weight of others peoples problems pain and self inflections...
I'll just have me...
And as much as that scares me its all I need.

College bound! I was blessed with a full ride for a masters degree in psychology I am nothing but blessed!
@copyrights to chelsey behind hazel eyes @happy ending

I’m from the Father of all,
who isn’t acknowledged by all.
From the ocean as well as the land.
From the darkness in which we all began,
but none remember– perhaps it was September.

I’m from broken bonds
in which I didn’t know how to respond
to, while I was still in little pink shoes,
leaving me with blues
and maybe bruised– in my head.

I’m from the once uncharted waters
setting sail as a daughter
as the waters tossed and turned
and I questioned my return.
With no supporters or crew
I somehow made it through.

I will be from the unknown,
maybe abandoned, unaccompanied and alone.
But I will continue to glide across the sea,
even if it’s just me.

Tik tok, tik tok.
Slowly. Unintentionally. Like building blocks–
constructing where I’m from.

Delilah Saw Sep 15

Which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
With agony, thou cry, thou scream and thou sleep

Staggering over time, the extensions of gore
A morph possessed over the flags: cloistered around throat
An uttering of serene eons, of atrophy and of thaw;
A morass of hegemony, of identity and war
Withered from bullets,drained over the ground
A knock on the coffin of tommorrow and   the past
A chronology misplaced and outdone
And a synapse of presence smothered with the breath of dust

Which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
With hope, thou bawl, thou shout, thou sleep

Chaotic commemoration ruptures over the streets
Splatters around an arcane, segregated country
Under the mud of enigma lies the rotten leaves of history
Away the tomorrow leans, restless and unknowingly
For it lies awake with the screams of a rifle, the screeching audibilty of ghostly  mutterings, the camaraderie caught on flesh, between the teeth of craved monarchy
For the tomorrow lies awake near the history.
For the past suffocates the vivacity
Yclept the peace, yclept the tranquility!

Which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
With anger, thou yelp, thou break, thou sleep

A hymn of sigh deafens the petrifying serenity
A sigh outraged with the murmur of life
Seismic ephemerality tears the ground apart
Barges in, the present, whispers a cry
The tomorrow lies still over the chunks of calamity
Lulled to sleep with the kiss of presence,
With the screams of a distant enmity:
The burial of time that has been cloistered around the anonymity
The burial of the ceased, the past, as a euphemism
The burial of the existence, the present, as    a mayhem
The burial of the undone, the tomorrow, with a malediction
All three in the same grave, punching the timeless, imminent reality they delineated

Which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
With silence, thou shatter, thou question, thou sleep

Down the ground quaffs the time
Of a city that no longer breathes
Out inundates the prayers of a dilemma
For a country is to cleave
Fidelity over a continuum, with faded prayers, shares a discourse
Befuddled with an antinomy, it asks itself, how an epitaph shall be wrought?
Down the ground swallows the confusion
Of a city that no longer cries
Now, which ground shall thine eternity crawl beneath?
To be overwhelmed by a plenitude of halves
In the name of peace, in the name of life!

Which ground shall I die beneath?
To lie awake with an eternal sleep
I no longer whisper over the divided streets
Not to awaken the past, not to revive the wounds and faded hymns
I breathe in the dust, devouring the ceased
For a divided city is to be kissed
Down I no longer hold an impulse to scream:
A gush of presence that arises a breeze
That of which billowing up the grave
Releasing a future for a road ahead
With hope, I bawl, I defy, I beg
Yclept the peace, in the name of solidarity!

Hannah Sep 12

Different bones,
same soul.

Art Sep 12


I taste it daily.
The salt of consequence on the side of my tongue,
Burning my mouth.
Punishing me.

Love is lost.
Shallow and low,
Like a pool of water
Two feet deep,
Predictable and shit flavored.

I taste every answer before it’s heard.
But I deny it just the same.

I dig for the unpredictable.
Muddying my hands in search of
A new flavor.
Drunk as I am at 4 in the morning,
I ask for an answer that I’ve already tasted,
Hoping to be surprised.

I’m not.
I’m given an answer that I already know.
But I pursue it just the same.
I send poems to lost loves,
Knowing they won’t answer,
But I do it just the same.

I find myself alone.
I’ve accepted it.
But I crave companionship,
Just the same.

Like the grass in my pipe.
I crave it.
Love it.
But it kills me.


Don’t make it awkward.
Don’t say it.
I’ll see you tomorrow.
Don’t say it.
Don’t make it awkward.

You already know,
I say.

No I don’t,
She says.

She’s lying
I know it.
I taste it.

She lives in bliss.
I live in fire.

Don’t say it.
Don’t make it awkward.
I don’t know.

She says this to dampen a blow
That I won’t feel.
I’ve felt it too many times.

Maybe she didn’t know.


I’ve lost the sense of caring,
I say it just to say it.
Knowing the answer.
Just to see what happens.

And again I’m forced to move on.
To know that it’s unreciprocated
As it so often seems to be.

Insufferably predictable.
Six months I knew,
Yet I hoped to be surprised.


Confidence remains,
Or perhaps it was born.
Resilient as the day it fell out of the womb.
Unphased by negative response,
Simply frustrated,
Urged to move forward and brush off the needles
Poking at its chest and temples and tongue.
How can a heart die if it has already been pierced?


I’ll keep digging,
Searching for a new flavor
Until something sweet sticks.
Until some light shines through the cracks.

I’ll make it awkward.
I’ll make it weird.
I’ve been pierced enough.
I’ve been numbed long enough.

Stab me again.
Try it.
Pick a vein.
Try it.
I hope to feel it.
I want to feel it.


True sadness
Is something that can’t be described.
For some,
Fresh and temporary.
Old and rooted.
Experienced in different ways
Left to ferment
Through a curious cathartic flavor of isolation.

I’ve fallen into that deep void
Seeking companionship where there is none.
Only to be stabbed in a living heart,
countless times
Until it finally stopped beating.

A sequence following the past, present and future.
Mono Sep 12

You can't undo what's written in the past
and you may be aware on what's in the present
cause you will be surprised with the future

Yet do not worry time is there
every second of the tick of the clock
it will be a memory worth to share

Enjoy life's current position
don't dwell on yesterday
and live on for tommorrow

time waits for no one... they said
Remmy Sep 11

you asked me to draw my past
i drew in red lines and harsh corners with no boundries
red lines because my body is covered in them
harsh corners because the turns my life took often make my neck snap
no boundries because i knew no wrong felt no remorse saw nothing as off limits
you asked me to draw my present
i left the paper blank
i feel nothing
i am nothing
whatever people say to me to help me recover is who i become
i am like a mirror or a blank slate reflecting what the artist wants to see
you ask me to draw my future
i draw triangles and rectangles
because the turns are still sharp but more expected
and i am fitting into society but i'm not a box

art therapy is sometimes fun but it gets so deep
Shofi Ahmed Sep 10

Time is everything
but save a moment though.
The present now, has a present
there is a tomorrow.

Time blesses and curses
Creates and destroys
Carries, slows down
Tortures and rushes - drags.

Always looking forward,
The future, it’s alluring suggestions.
Walk the linear belt of time
Light at the end of this tunnel,
A place to rest.

It's moving farther away
The light has gone dim.
I can't remember why
Turn backwards, lost
Time snickers- apathetic

Given up.

In boredom I look down.
For the first time I simply observe where I am,
the ground is shining.
Light rays pierce the soil,
casting arrangements on the tunnel's ceiling like stars.
There must be something below.
Dig until my fingers are raw
soil rises up, takes the place of progress.

A light show above me.
The mesmerizing patterns create movies in my mind.
World beneath me begins to move,
The soil is swallowing me.
I don't resist and I don't want to, I feel...good.  

When I come to my eyes adjust to the most luminous imagery I have ever seen.
Glimmering suns, flowers of colors unimaginable, grasses of greens and dew reflecting rainbows. Birds of paradise cascade overhead, my ears can taste their music like honey.
Time can’t find me here because it doesn’t exist.
This is the present. This is the moment. I laugh, and I laugh and I laugh. I’m happy and I was always here. I was always here.

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