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Why is it so hard to breathe
with feet planted on dry land?
What chains itself tight in
our throats?
Can you flee until your limbs
Can you run from the raindrops
before they fall?
Maybe one day the sun will shine
on a candid smile
Maybe on day we won't feel as if we
are tossed about in dark waters
And maybe, one day, we will feel at home
on dry land.
This earth is such a foreign yet familiar place.
Seven billion poets and rising. Fourteen billion ears and no one can hear.

If my words go unread and my voice goes unheard, did I ever exist.

I don't know if a bear did but I did when I was camping.

If we call the start a big bang when it goes will it be the little whimper or the even bigger bang?

Is it true that ****** shoes are nailed on?

I used to be on hormone therapy.... but she put up her prices.
Derekis Feb 12
shades beautifully linger at the end of the line

a grey strand of fate twirls in the vast blue sky sea, bereft of clouds plainly for all to see

an earthly flower comes forth from humble roots, blooming in late winter against common sense

slowly welcoming the thread, entwined by both gloom and faith, incredible feelings bursting forth

a silent dream wakes, unable to communicate the magic experienced by a heart's crumbling side

snowy figures gather to witness, trembling in both cold and fear.

the portal is about to open wide, as wide as the possibility every one of us has to bare

and in time, life slows down, minute by minute, second by second until the moment is frozen.

all to gaze into the cataract of precious images seen by he who dreams, the lord of the one word, the stigma of existence.

from the bloom, a distorted angel is born, a fueled descending, a fall never ending, a being made of prayers never answered

in closer ending, a breaking tendering, a death drum ends a static dream as sorrowful nails are driven into all men's hearts.
Esther Krenzin Nov 2018
So high, that you could touch the clouds
The world below looked so fragile and small
The lives and worries a single speck amidst the grains of sand.
City lights glowed like tiny stars, blinking in and out of existence following the rythm of code
like the algorithm of a computer.
What once felt so big, is now but a ghost
What once felt so small, is now invisible to the eye--
but not to the heart.
-Esther Krenzin-
High in the embrace of a plane, what do you see when you look below?
Colten Sorrells Dec 2018
I fill my head with emptiness
myself to help me empty this
just so, although the words come out,
the picture’s only static now

I light this flame to dim the spark
that makes this monochrome seem dark
and add some color to the days
that shimmer as they dissipate

where’s my phone?
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