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Martha Oct 2014
The child trapped within me, wonders
She still does…her heart filled with curiosities about the world around her
She still loves the smell of concrete after it rains
The feeling of velvet, the sound of Velcro as it detach itself
She is still intrigued about the intricate bends on an elderly face
And finds herself dancing among strangers to the tunes on her head
She still likes to feel the cold floor under her naked feet
…and at times she allows a smile without reason to fly away

The child trapped within me, still sings the songs she learned decades ago
When innocence couldn't make sense out of the corrupted lyrics
…she dares to invade my brain in search of herself
and  tries,oh how she tries to take ownership of absent things, that no longer belong to her

The child within me doesn't understand

It is time to disappear
Lost among the day to day
She cannot add the weight on the shoulders
the creaking of the joints, the sleepless night of a busy head
the tired feet
rhythm-less arms that forgot how to fly, and now…now can only float guideless
among thousands of face, hitting the shore
lingering in an ocean of responsibilities
drowning, my child, refuses to sink and resurfaces
intrigued by a reflection of intricate lines

Lost, I find her
Hidden deep inside, she escapes at times
To remind me of what life ought to be,
…afraid my child, hides again.
Scattered around my body, lies the remains of a girl meant to be
Cascading over corpses,
Hope is a weathered, out-dated state of being
A serving, political and manner-driven
What's new?
New is the passion, the fight and the might
It matters not how much hope you have
Whether it busts through your seams and gleams in your eyes
It matters not how fast the blood rushes in your veins as you pray

Look at me, cold and vain
Eyes frozen, I begin again.

Pin point and plan
Sticks and stones and pots and pans.

Life is nothing but a learning curve

So I move on to new experiences and new lives,
A million eyes.

Never forget who you are.
Who you came from.
Where you were meant to be.
Fate is not a destiny
Life is made out of parentheses.
Anna Elguera May 2014
Stifled tears and shortened breath,
earthquake for hands
that deserve rest.
Diminishing comfort
the deeper I wander
but closer to fulfillment
the more layers uncovered.
Not sure really, what I'll find
as I peel
myself alive.
Adam M Snow Apr 2014
Reflection
Written by Adam M. Snow

I am alone this night of flutter;
confusion reigns, so I utter,
"The air is that of a clouded dream;
so dark like that of an ordeal gleam."

I wonder where this fancy bestowed me;
in a room, damp it be.
My vision is blurred by this smoky scene.
I see only a table, draped of shallow green.

I pondered there for a moment, a moment it was;
but apparently a moment too long, came abuzz.
It echoes louder, louder atop of that table cloth;
calling to me my once forgotten troth.

So heedfully I approach the table with ease,
Seeing afar it covered in bluish frieze.
My vision once blurred, now felt clearer;
that vanity table shown an olden mirror.

Now from the vanity table, a mirror I now held
I glanced upon myself, now greatly compelled.
A face has shown, was I yet not I,
it cursed myself to die.

The image that was shown had shadowed a vision:
Ye or I inter sweet derision,
o'er thy pass of insanity wake
as much of pain as I could take.

The mirror’s shown cracked; I feel it no more.
My heart beats cold, my days be ****.
I'd fallen apart to lose my way;
“Am I now one in a blackened day?”

I watched my life now turned to mist;
The writer is I, who cannot exist.
I shown cracked in my own reflection
these wounds are the signs of my affliction.

I am one in this reflection shown two;
seeking to make my life anew.
I asked my reflection to be shown;
my truth, my past is left unknown.

I ask of thee, "Let it be done."
The writer is I, the lonely one
My reflection, it strains drops of blood;
engulfs it now in life's lowly flood.

My eyes are stained as I lay cold,
I am weak-bound growing old.
My voice is muted as my heart now breaks;
my body's bounded, my soul still aches.

Misery whelms my ever being,
leaving I without a sight for seeing.
Burned into my mind, a vision of pain
as the mirror, cursed me insane.

To be upon a mirror image,
upon a worldly scrimmage.
My reflection does not show
this truth I do not dare to know.

The mirror’s cracked; I feel it no more.
My heart beats cold, leaving me sore.
I've fallen apart and lost my way;
“Am I but one in a blackened day?”

I long for amity among benevolence,
a sought after among your prevalence.
I am now we and we look back;
my ember morn has now grown so black.

The mirror is shattered, my image is not;
my demons has shown its devilish plot.
I've been raised yet to have fallen-
My life, my heart song is stolen.

My reflection in vision pains,
I am bound by my worldly chains.
I am force to face myself in this state,
the mirror shows, it-is-my-fate.

My image is broken yet is whole,
I seek only for my life's role.
I'm reaching through out the dark,
my only light a petite spark.

Nevermore will my reflection show;
I'm lost with no place left to go.
The mirror's lust has failed;
is this not where I dwelled?

My tears are falling upon my reflection
this holds for me no resurrection.
This cracked mirror now shows only one;
the life in this mirror is nearly done.

My reflection, it is not new;
like the mirror it's turning blue.
I, myself gone insane,
I shall not lack in vain.

I am not myself, let I be smite;
this is the shine of evil's light.
I only love yet I still hate,
I know now it is my fate.

I feared myself, of who I am,
curse me now let thee be ******.
Bow ye not of I with shame,
only I am whom to blame.

I cannot live like the past,
nor the future of all in vast
http://amsnow.weebly.com
Dominique U Apr 2014
I want to get lost somehow,
But I've never been found anyway.
I didn't have to want to get lost,
I just am.
Thoughts about trying to identify the self

— The End —