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Ellie Geneve Oct 2017
My mother
loves remembering dates

She counts how old I am
in days and tells me
that she loves me

In moments like this
regression feels like
the only way out

As a new child is born
an older sibling
will start wetting the bed again
Trying... hoping.. to go back


He left me
On February 17th

When people ask
how many years its been
I'd like to answer them in seconds

Sometimes
I write February 17th on November
I don't do it on purpose

I really...
don't think
I've lived
A second without you
Olga Valerevna Oct 2017
it's one Sun then two we can see in this life
there's one in our body and one in the sky
if days be some windows the shape of the moon
then while they are open we're welcomed to bloom
the Truth about Life is the same for us all
each Winter we die til comes Spring through the Fall
we follow the seasons like footsteps of Time
so let us be never a second behind
Sun teach me how to never fall behind...
Benjamin Oct 2017
Those who believe that
words cannot ****
have never read
the Second
Amendment,
or witnessed the blood it has spilled.
There is only one "death sentence" prescribed by the American Constitution, and it is this: "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."
Poetic T Sep 2017
Liability was sewn into the
threads of what'd been given
                      you,
                        but you threaded
every single chance..

You can only wear  promises
                             so many times...
Dori Sep 2017
I have this bad habit of unintentionally giving people my consent, allowing them to walk all over my heart without ever asking them to take off their shoes before they step inside my soul.
2-20-15
Vale Luna Sep 2017
I should be saying
That I'm thankful
For every breath I take
But truthfully
I'm not.

Every time I inhale
It's a long draw
Of a cigarette bud
That isn't mine
Forcing me to wheeze
And cough up the venom
That scorches my lungs

I am cursed
With the longing
To breathe fresh air
And rid myself
Of what I've become so attached to
Just because it's not my nicotine
Doesn't mean I'm not addicted to it
Addicted to dying
Addicted to the thrill of wondering
If this will be
My last cough

Quitting isn't my choice
I'm not the one
Who lights up
With shaking fingers
Shielding a flame from the wind
I'm just the one
Who enjoys
The ashtray full of burnt consequences

I don't have the option
To become unattracted
To the white clouds
Floating around your lips
I was already convinced
That following you
Was as good as resting in the sky
Even if my rest
Was on pillows
Made of poison

I can't say I'm thankful
For the intoxicatingly
Toxic air
That you spoon fed me

But I sure am blissful

I'm not stupid enough to think
Thankfulness and blissfulness
Are the same thing
I am smart enough to know
That honestly
I'm no better than you
Even if I wanted to be

You never offered me
My own cigarette to smoke
But standing next to you
I'm as good as dead.
Toxic relationships.
Ruby Sep 2017
I was never the first to anyone. Never the favorite. Never the beloved. I was always who they chose when they ran out of ideas. When they need a scapegoat. Or when they need a safety net. That was me.

No one would willingly choose me. And I don't understand why. Am I lacking in anything? Do I need to do something before you choose me? Tell me.

I've always wondered: why does no one want me? I can never be the first one my parents love, I'm the last they concieved. I also can't be the one people love, and I don't understand. I've done everything you wanted, yet still you choose someone else.

Can I ever not be the second choice?
Arlene Corwin Sep 2017
You & I Are Meditating

I go into my brain,
Imagining that I and Father my
Are one the same:
One and the same.

Today it’s fun
To think
That You and I are meditating:
Two in one.

Aim always the same:
Restoration of a state of mind
Of kindness,
Peacefulness
And focus.

I’m going now
Back to my TV show,
With minutes spent seconds ago,
Productive.

You & I Are Meditating 9.1.2017
To The Child Mystic II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II;
Arlene Corwin
It only takes a second.
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