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Mica Kluge Sep 2016
My life is So full of
Half starts, incompletion,
Should've, could've, would've,

My regrets ride On my back
Like I'm the One they've saddled.

I have mastered
The very elegant
Art of inexistence.

I've become so
Totally lost In being afraid
Of my life That I've forgotten
To even live.

This isn't living.

Don't hate anyone.

Does that include myself?
Scratch that. Currently lacking a self.

I'll stumble into faith. Or life.
Or faith in life.

No more. Never. Can't live like this.
Scratch that. Not really living.

Caffeine may keep me awake, but
What can coffee do for an empty soul?

The answer is nothing.

I can mend an empty soul. My empty soul.
Even as I dream of paradise while stuck on the ground.

Time to live.
Time to wake up.

There can't be any incompletes this time.
Dawn of Lighten Sep 2016
Ambient voices lurk upon the tip of the ears,
As the ruffling of the leaves become faint and dull!

Shaken by those voices clamor your essense to a vilified characters,
And those sound intensified by the roaring thunder they seem to pound like war drums.

As the heavens shed it's tears to calm all senses to a full moon,
One can only indulge in the simple act of nature to light sound of rain drops to sleep.

Do we become the persona others echo,
And does one escape to runaway from energy of darkness?

It is a destined war to meet the oppositioned in battlefield,
And then you ask yourself if you are the truthful conviction of good?

The innocence isn't so much the victor of the scenario,
But the reflective nature to do the right things.

Those loud voices spilled the vile tongue of characters uncleansed,
And the dirt seem to gravitate the bubble you once protected your essense.

You try to rub off the dead skin that sicken your persona,
But seemed fatal attraction and unwelcomed maul of voices protrude.

Tremored hands can't seem to stop,
But the heart had seized it's pulse,
And looked to the self in the mirror no more.

Gasp to get some air in the drowning ocean,
As the weight of the back become stronger,
And reach out the arm to brace upon the nearest shore.

Everything must stay silent,
And then ask am I good enough?

The eternal struggle to find the person on the lake is a journey,
But one can't runaway forever from their own shadow,
Because the shadow will follow you for good.

Once you realize the reflection is your's
It is too silly to have ever feared it.
When voices tell you that you are no good, one must stop hiding from their personal shell to see the wonders of the world
Keren Jun 2016
Some people are under construction
because their walls were broken
and know that
those times are hard
for they built it with bricks
and they let someone ruined it.
It has been standing firm for years
yet someone came
to just completely break it
and leave it unfixed
And wonderwall just lingers there
waiting for a resolution
waiting for some fixing
just waiting.
Wonderwall means it stays there for someone.
Gabby Aquino May 2016
On the edge of it all
Looking down at everything
The air feels thinner

I'm really on solid ground
But I can feel myself about to fall
Like standing on the side of a skyscraper
my back against a wall

Why can't I just be laying down
looking up at the sky?
A night sky, watching fireflies
Realizing how they ignite the fire
in my eyes

I can feel the pain before it comes
It's such a sad trait
Don't want to be consumed by hate
I just want let it go

Things are a little different
Change is inevitable
But if I'm able to take a breath at a time
Maybe I'll overcome
And now that you're dating someone else
I suddenly understand you:
Things that you did, words that you said,
Even when I withstand you,

I took you for granted, but from the first,
You always respected me.
You bothered almost everyone else,
But you knew when to stop with me.

You've always believed in me
I'm not sure how I deserve it;
Between us, I think now we're closer,
And I will strive to preserve it.

And as for wishing that you were with me,
I think I can leave that behind;
Probably friends is all we will ever be,
And right now, I don't really mind.
Nicole S Apr 2016
Clasp your hands.
Bow your head
and pretend it's your choice,
and not the weight of the sky
crushing you in its need
to kiss the earth.

I pray that I won't hurt you,
even as I know
I ask the impossible.
But that, I suppose, is prayer;
dusty lips and hollow bones
and a fervent need
for dreaming,
hoping against all odds
and asking for changes
when faith says it's all
already written.

(It's the most beautiful paradox.)
I love, but I am not in love, and that one distinction
is months of confusion and hurt,
and now I will see
if my prayers will be answered
the way I hope.
Ignatius Hosiana Apr 2016
And
so
I
placed
the
wilting
flower
of
my
faith
upon
the
grave
of
the
dead
and
buried
hope
cascading
despondent
tears
for
a
never
say
never
that
never
was
Zack Leffler Mar 2016
Drifting to unconsciousness is the only cure to my sickness these sullen nights. Images overflowing my eyes—taking control of my mood and feelings. Images of the way your lips introduced themselves to mine; gentle at first, but oh so sweetly. And our faces visualized themselves into the nerves behind my eyelids; the system they took to search for each other, melding like the ingredients of two hot medals pressed into one another. I wish I could find some sort of approach to escape reality and relive those moments—even if it is only a few seconds, mere seconds could inspire me for the entirety of my remaining hours.

People say that the ocean or the moon is the most beautiful thing your eyes can see, or even how the seven wonders of the world had gone unchallenged throughout the realm of time as the undisputed champion of allure; but darling, you’re selling something to me that I’ve never experienced. True beauty is watching fireworks explode in broad daylight hidden in the tiny, blue veins of your eyes. Watching your snow covered teeth chatter when you shiver in the cold, a reminder to hold you closer than i ever thought would be possible. The music your mouth makes as you giggle when my lips near yours, how could someone turn away something so vulnerable, so innocent, so pure. Even as I type these words, I have to take pauses. I get lost in the way your hands ran their way across my body, following the blueprints of some grand city—a city I wanted you to create.

The night’s hours ran dry like the drinks previously consumed; twisted drunk love was the only love i wanted to ever experience for the rest of my days. The ocean waves reminded me of your voice, so quiet when they wanted to be and so demanding when they had to be. They would take me out with the pull of the current and I did nothing to stop them—even encouraging the rift. I wish that you saw me the way I saw you, though. A cosmic masterpiece created with the finest stars at disposal; a grand creator had some sort of divine conviction when designing and constructing her ultimate purpose. Time had its way of disrupting our affairs, but the universe commanded the blending of two free souls—aimless in their motives. Aimlessness had found resolution? Only time can tell. How ironic.

Sleep knowing my dreams are of sun sets and watching headlights reflect from window to window with your hand pressed firmly against my lips, love.
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