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Moni Jun 2018
Delusional conclusions
Fulfilled by hallucinations.
Chasing the shadows
Of your internal conflicts
Tricked by your own brain
That everyone is playing the game
Called your life,
Feeling as if you were going insane,
Not wanting to blame- no, believe-
Your own family
Has turned against you,
But the voice in your head
Keeps shouting,
Telling you your own kids want you dead
And you fed into your own demons
Because it's hard no to drown when
You're in a large body of shark infested water,
No matter how hard you fight to survive.
Im sorry, this is just very personal to me. idk if it's good, bad, okay, or whatever.
Fatema Aj Jun 2018
I saw her there beside the sea,
the way she laughed at it
like the sea spoke to her
as it washed the sand tickling her feet
she looked at me
not how most people look at each other
but with shy eyes
asking me to join her
I sat there beside her
she covered her hands with her long sleeved shirt
took my hand and put it against the wet sand

"the sea has felt every feeling there is to feel, give away the pain you've been forced to feel, it will sink it in away from you, wait for it," she said

I knew at that moment she was my destiny,
but is she real
Lolita Jun 2018
I was a little girl
I was sitting on a bench.
I saw a man claiming
"I have a big thirst to quench".

I looked at him
And gave him a big smile.
He was near me
Not even a mile.

Wrinkles on his face
Starving to death.
I offered him a candy
But he was already on ****.
Just the sort of poems you create when you are staring at the ceiling and wondering what to do with life.
Cory Williams May 2018
I live for that sound,
Between life and death,
Natural,
Forced,
And naturally forced by my hand,
Serrated steel extension of wild precision,
It says it needs a shower,
And I oblige.

Daddy takes care of his children;
I am firm.
Keep your nose to the grindstone,
Yet,
I am warm,
I'm grateful for your amenity,
Your love,
Your life in pools of red,
My children live through you,
Through your sacrifice they grow.

I...I know you understand,
As you make that sound,
Telling me "you are welcome",
Cradled in my loving arms,
I am humbled.
To the man who is up all night,
Who some never see.

Isn't it lovely to be?
To be paid to just to watch them sleep.

So peaceful in their slumbers.

You rarely have a thing to do.
Yet you are paid none the less.

But the job costs more than it pays...

And your jabbering keeps haunted minds alert and on guard.

And its hard for you to be alert too...

When you need to be.

For appointments, errands, social activities, and such.

You take care of us...
But you must take care of you!

Oh mystery man who does not sleep.
Be careful my dear.

Someday it may be you,
Restless in their beds.
SoVi Mar 2018
I always wondered how long I could hold your breath
Hands wrapped like ribbons on your neck
No signs of forced entry since I let myself in gently

I always wondered how my feet will feel on tile flooring
Stained red when you didn’t stop me
Just wanted to write down some notes and your arms were so appealing

I always wondered how I’ll look bathed in blood in the moonlight
Will it look blue with the night hue?
Pity you didn’t let me try, your cries made me lose my appetite

I always wondered how it’ll taste, human flesh from your face
Only the most honorable will be selected
The rest thrown to dogs since they didn’t fit my palate

But of course, I only wondered
I am only hysteric not psychotic your Honor.



© Sofia Villagrana 2018
Inspired by the show Hannibal.
Hanna Kelley Feb 2018
Is it love when I tense up every time he holds me?
Do I call it love when he is inches away from me and all I can think about is holding my breath because I would rather fail at making myself pass out than fail to admit that I do not love him?
I love how straight forward and confident he can be when he wants something enough, but does that mean I love him?
I love how intimidating and controlling he can be sometimes, but I'm not sure I would call that love.
What do I call it when he grabs my neck from behind and kisses me?
Is it love when he touches me, and I have to count down the seconds until I can breathe normally again?
Is it love when he talks about the future we could have, and I cringe?
Do I call it love when he makes me feel defeated and owned?; To feel as though you are obligated to marry someone?
He wants to call it love, but how can I when I picture someone else when we kiss to keep me from running away?
How can I call it love when all I want to do is rip out his heart because I believe he does not know how to use it?
I will not call this LOVE because it is DEFEAT and HOPELESSNESS

I will call this sick
And crazy
And psychotic
Because that is the ONLY explanation for me straining to make this work
Found this in my drafts, and I saw no reason in deleting it.
I broke up with him.
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