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Brittany Wynn Oct 2015
She drives along faded highway, not seeing, thinking,
following twin red guide-lights to 21 days from now,
10 months from now because it's so easy to get lost
in tunnel-vision future when a path reaches out ahead--

--and we can think we know where to go, seeing our dreams,
not thinking with our lives that feel so cold and blank on Sunday
nights when the looming no rest-9-5-help me-bills to pay doom rolls up behind, whispering in a voice born from anxiety...malevolence in her ear...

and yet

She drives along a back-lit highway, seeing, and believing, that the sun
rises on the other side of tomorrow.
the most random thing i've written in a while
Nik Bland Aug 2015
Twist and turn
Lessons I've learned are burned
Into this fragile skin
And here I stand

One by one
Visible, done and done
Look deep into myself
Unable to see someone else

Run and fall
From reflections, build walls
Trying so hard to stall
But I always catch up with me

Twist and turn
All of these scars I've earned
All the stories still burn
And they are me and I am them
"Everybody is somebody
But nobody wants to be themselves
And if I ever wanted to understand me
I'd have to talk to someone else..." -Gnarls Barkley
Reflecting patterns from sun on shade
Reflect on life and the choices we've made
Remember times in youths glade
And as it passed adults it made
As the lights pass from the days
we return to the ground we've laid
Ash Saveman Apr 2015
I look across the table
He is sitting there, smiling,
Laughing even
He takes my baby's hand in his, eyes filled with wonder
I try not to flinch when he touches me
But his touch burns like a firey coal
My insides are bursting
Yet my outside is a smiling shell
This is my baby's day
Its his day with his father
They try and get me to play with them
I follow on auto drive
Blocking out the pain of the memories
What of your life at home? He asks
Tears well up in my eyes
I look away, he can't see the pain
He can't see the abuse
I say that my mum is crazy as usual, but it's nothing I can't handle
I didn't do it, he sees it
He tries to get me to spit it out
Not in front of our baby!
We drop him off at home then he let's me in the car again
I'm not a taxi driver he tells me
I don't care
I'm done facing him
I break inside
This is the car where we spent so much time in
A year of memories come flooding back
He says I'm lying,
I know it's true
But I can't tell him of the abuse
We are at my house now
He gets out of the car
I'm confused
Wasn't he just going to drop me off?
He walks me to the door and tries to get a hug
Everything inside me is shattered.
I just shake my head
Run inside and cry
What happened to us?
I was in a very intense relationship and he broke it off. But my child had fallen head over heels for him as well and had been begging to see him again. So we went to IHOP and shared a meal.
Sally A Bayan Apr 2015
(fourteen lines)

Every day, we start our usual pace
unaware, how we follow, get ourselves into the race
going fast... becoming faster
sliding up and down, like a roller coaster.
It could be on one fine or not so ordinary day
on an unknown place along the way
we fall....get lost.....we stray
To find our way back, we retrace
But when speed becomes intolerable, or unbearable
we then pack up...we conclude, "today is unmanageable."
We inhale...exhale...settle.........make up our minds,
say, "tomorrow is another day..." we leave the past behind.
We walk anew as the day begins...keep up with the pace
try to do better... to stay within the race...

Sally


Copyright March 2015
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan





~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***when will we ever slow down?  Any chance we get
let us find some time.....to be silent
to be alone...just thinking..listening....reflecting
lenten season...or any season...**
Commuter Poet Mar 2015
I can smell the morning
I can smell the sea mixed with dew and light mist
Memories of my childhood return
Free from care
I wondered what my life would become

The river is my beautiful friend
Today it rests calmly
Quietly reflecting everything neatly

I love to be alone with my thoughts
On mornings such as these

Eight geese fly low over the river
Making a straight line for the city
One moment they are here
The next they are gone

I want to be proud of my life
Proud of who I am

Who I am is what I do

Now for a short while
I sit and write in these historic gardens
On this ornate bench
I breathe in the salty air

The sun appears
To warm my tired face
The grass sparkles here and there
With the remnants of early morning dew
And daffodils stand tall
Their flowers ******* in the sunlight

The birds of Westcliff are happy here
They sing brilliantly

Long parallel waves roll slowly across the flat river surface
Finally expiring on the shallow beaches

For this short time
I sit still among the workings of the day
While a bee zigs and zags and joggers jog
And dog walkers walk and drivers drive
Written 21st March 2012
svdgrl Feb 2015
I've been quiet,
        but do not worry-                                
I've been writing.
Kiah Griffin Feb 2015
If your the sun,
I'm the moon.

I don't shine
without you.

Reflecting light
is what I do.

As light is something
I can't produce.

k.g.
Blind Aesthetic Jan 2015
The year began with promises
Spilled over from the year that past.
Celebrating a passing checkpoint;
Ignorant of the bridge's collapse.
Too late to change and too late to stop
I dove in and I dove fast.
It was stupid to think that
Something like that would really last.

Left beaten and defeated
I tried to continue.
I tried to push but couldn't do.
I dragged on with a spirit diminished.
Thinking back that, had I looked,
Had I looked I could've finished.
And things would be different
I'd be the better instead of the finished.

The rest of the year was no better.
I hung my head low, not exactly in shame
To try and find peace with what had remained.
And retreated to my own mind
To collect what'd been left behind.
While maintaining a facade
Of the one who's unshaken;
Always joking about ****, ****, and baby makin'.

We all have our lows,
And we all have our highs,
And memories we cherish,
And those we despise.
But despite what has happened,
In the year of 2014,
I grew from my struggles.
Even if I struggled to know what that means.
a summation of what 2014 was to me.
Joseph Bucci Nov 2014
The night's silence
Drowned by screaming

Where I should see darkness
I see smiles and tears

I'm so tired
But I'm allowed no rest

Just constant torture
From the ghosts of the past

My body may be still
Yet my mind is running

Days, months, years go by
But my clock ticked only once

My heart knocks on my chest
To make sure I don't go

Consciousness
My prison
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