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AnyaKinsey Oct 2020
The light September breeze,
reminds me of who I used to be,
A girl without so much worry,
A girl who wasn't judged for,
being who she was.

She left home,
And she had never felt so alone.
So she walked,
sometimes she rode with strangers,
Who seemed to really understand when she talked.

I just wanted to go North,
and see the snow.
But I wasn't doing much good,
cause my wits were starting to go,
And I hoped.

She hoped for an end,
Among the strange, beautiful places,
just around the bend.
And she found some,
In trespassing and chases.

Which is why I ended here,
in a dry town.
No whisky or beer.
Wearing a pale blue,
hospital gown.
Tried something with two different perspectives, hope you enjoyed!
lua Oct 2020
gasp
heave
pant
the ringing in my ears
the lump beating in my throat
the sound of my heartbeat caught in a flame
that burns bright and angry
in my lungs
as i taste iron on my tongue
and blisters bloom
on the soles of my feet
like flowers in a summer's field
and yet the stench of sweat
the cling of cloth against my skin
raw and pink and thick with grime
but i'm running out of time
i won't ever stop to breathe.
lua Oct 2020
i think i've lost the feeling in my fingertips
and the words that
graze my lips
slip
and dissipate
into meaningless thoughts
onto a page
it's the banging against my window panes
the clang and drip of rain
it's the constant reminder of the sun
that 'yes, i live'
'yes, i am here'
'yes, i will stay'
'for as long as you will let me'
it's like listening to the sound of crashing waves
against the shore
as i dip my toes
in the moonlight
but
there is that fear
of the unknown
the slippery tongues of the abyss
that lap and lick against my heels
the tremble of my lip
the shudder down my spine
as it snakes around my legs
it's the longingness to runaway
and disappear
to leave without a trace
no new names, no fake identities
not a smidge of existence
no footprints left behind.
it's been hard to do anything lately.
Tangerine May 2020
๐’ฝ๐‘œ๐“…๐‘’
๐’ถ ๐“‚๐‘’๐“‚๐‘œ๐“‡๐“Ž
๐“ˆ๐’ฝ๐’ถ๐’น๐‘œ๐“Œ๐“ˆ ๐’ป๐“‡๐‘œ๐“๐‘’๐“ƒ
๐“…๐’ถ๐“๐‘’ ๐’ถ๐“ƒ๐’น ๐’ธ๐“‡๐“Š๐‘’๐“
๐“Ž๐‘œ๐“Š ๐’ป๐“๐‘’๐‘’
morseismyjam Jan 2020
As he sinks down,
Down into the soil
he recalls everything.

Remembers what it was like
to taste the sky, and run
through fields of flowers
and he wonders if the man
whose hand he holds
is worth losing everything.

He thinks of the kitchen table,
and of the note he left for Mother:
"Going now. Back by spring."

He locks the door,
puts the last bag in the trunk,
and as he gets into the car
he looks back once
before turning away from
the sun.
it's sad and gay. Just like me.
TMReed Oct 2019
Afraid of her waves,
I steer into the trees,
fashion my nest
From the oars and leaves.
Teach oldies to the birds,
mice, the harmonies,
squander afternoons
waiting for the breeze.

Afraid of her waves,
I fly toward the heavens
to roam with pilgrims
crying rivers and oceans.
I listen to their stories
of ruin and misfortune.
And discover boats can be
both frightened and broken.

Afraid of her waves,
I crash into the moon,
bug the man inside,
a bit of a recluse,
with questions rounding
How the ocean moves.
He bellies of an ache,
But I know it's just a bruise.

Afraid of her waves,
I spin off seven rings
slingshot out this galaxy
on black and speckled wings,
tumble through a universe
where no and everything
look so eerily the same
that my boat begins to sink.

Afraid of her waves,
I row anywhere else
until walls crumble down
until oars row themselves.
When I scale her summits,
gobbled by her swell,
I peek over my shoulder
where the sea, she's ever still.
fray narte Sep 2019
I'm so tired of being anxious,
of self-disparaging and being
just-okay-but-not-really-okay
all the **** time.

I just wanna forget being damaged
for once,
and run and run
and crash somewhere better
and breathe again,
and feel again,
and live again.

Please.
Amira Aug 2019
Run away you,
away from desolation,
away from these blinding city lights,
away from this dense hard-to-carry burden
away from society and its atrocious ways.

Into tomorrow,
start over, turn over a new leaf,
a brand new you, because better days await
and never contemplate over what could have been.

A.A
Hawa Mar 2019
The feeling,
The emptiness,
The feeling of emptiness.
My heart aches for some feelings.
It is so sick of the void.

I hurt the people I love,
to get a reaction from them.
Anger, hatred or pain,
So that I can get some of those too.

Sitting below the fiery a hot shower,
to feel the buns on my soft skin,
To get the warmth from the water and steam,
Which I don't get from the people anymore.

Walking on the street,
In tees, jeans and flip flops, when
It's snowing outside,
To feel the cold and chills through my bones.
To feel the sadness in the surrounding,
to feel something.
To know I am NOT dead.

Drinking my Guts down.
Telling people I love them.
Can't do that with my normal persona,
Missing people publicly.
Cry for them,
But then why I don't feel blissful,
even with them around.

Running behind my dreams, where I feel.
I feel it all -
Pain, smile, sorrow, and joy.
Not the blank.
Not to be the emotionless stone, I have become.

Sitting in my room alone,
Hoping to go out and meet some people,
Like or not like me.
In a party - with the glass in my hand.
Glass full up to the brim,
Trying to keep up with the fake grin.
In my mind, already killing myself and these people,
Millions of times.

Exploding and pacifying myself the millionth time,
In the past 2 hours
Is this normal?
To wish for death, when
life is perfect, everything is good.

You wanted to be here.
Now that you are,
Where are you planning to run away next?
Convincing myself,
No, that other place will be better.
You will be happier.
When you know you won't be,
Any more on this earth.
It's all the same.
It's not the same anymore.

Darling you have been blessed with melancholy.
It's a part of you.
How could you ever run away,
from something which is inside you.
Not in your body but in your soul.

You can try, always try.
Till the time you are tired of trying.
And then you cry and cry and cry some more, you can accept it, cry Cry it out, my love.
And now?
Now embrace it.
Like you would embrace-
The gift of Beauty, you always wanted.
When you always knew that-
Beauty comes with a price.

Now that you have embraced it.
You know it's you.
You don't try to pretend anymore.
No more fake laughs, pretentious smiles.

I am sad,
But I am content with my sadness.
The void, I was always trying to get rid of.
It was filled with sadness.
No, it doesn't ache for anything anymore.

I can be calm with:
The fiery exploding thoughts.
I am peaceful with the war in my mind.
Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.
I feel surreal as if I am not really here but someplace else. It sometimes takes me hours and hours to come back to this world. I would be lying if I would say I don't like it. Anyway, Who wants to live here, when you could be anywhere you want to be.
Aaron LaLux Mar 2019
Iโ€™m leaving Neverland,
and you donโ€™t have to come with me if you donโ€™t want to,
but Iโ€™m gone,
I know it kinda feels great to stay in a superficially carnal way,

but if I stay I will die,
and Iโ€™ll be giving away the precious gift,
of the only thing I actually have,
my life,

because itโ€™s not too late but will be if I wait,
to make all these wrongs right,
and itโ€™s not too late but will be if I wait,
to **** my past and start a new life,

I canโ€™t stay,
and I can no longer deny,
that my Hometown of Hollywood has been corrupted,
they even made the most innocent moments feel tainted,

maybe thatโ€™s why I canโ€™t play with a little boy,
without feeling like Iโ€™m doing something wrong,
and I havenโ€™t sexually abused a single child in my entire adult life,
so why should I feel confused by whatโ€™s going on,

and we all know whatโ€™s going on,
we all know They are attracted to the Young and Innocent,
because in the twisted logic of their perverted minds,
they think maybe by being with children theyโ€™ll stay Forever Young,

itโ€™s disgusting,
and Iโ€™m so ashamed of the city Iโ€™m from,
that Iโ€™m not even having kids,
because I feel bad for every daughter and son,

and I still love Michael Jackson,
I mean I own a self-portrait painted by him,
it hangs in my hallway I pass it everyday,
as I search for a way to find some separation,

between art and artist,
between who God created,
and what that who God created,
creates from that creation,

trying to make peace with,
the fact that every gifted artist seems to be so twisted,
makes me suspicious,
of every celebrity I know and all their addictions,

because itโ€™s different,
depending what what their addiction is,
I mean a bit of blow is one thing,
but a kids ******* goes beyond addition & becomes a sickness,

and we may never know every secret untold that goes on without witness,

and honestly at this point I donโ€™t even care,
I just want to get the heck outta here,
you know what I mean Billy Jean,
the kidโ€™s not mine but Iโ€™m still talking to the Man in The Mirror,

so itโ€™s time to Beat It,
make my escape like a Smooth Criminal,
because I realize now that all those messages,
were more than just subliminal,

and I donโ€™t like The Way You Make Me Feel anymore,
Iโ€™m not going to wait โ€˜Till You Get Enough,
Iโ€™m going to find a place where I actually feel appreciated,
because I finally realize that back in Hollywood They Donโ€™t Care About us,

so Iโ€™m leaving Neverland,
and you donโ€™t have to come with me if you donโ€™t want to,
but Iโ€™m gone,
I know it kinda feels great to stay in a superficially carnal way,

but if I stay I will die,
and Iโ€™ll be giving away the precious gift,
of the only thing I actually have,
my lifeโ€ฆ

โˆ† LaLux โˆ†
Hollywood
2019
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