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Q D Malcolm Oct 15
Go somewhere else where I can see you
Go somewhere where there's light on the
Somewhere where there's the calling of
Where their clamour floats like plankton through the
And you are sitting under the linden
On the spot where you feel most
Between two big
Where do you go?
José Vaca Oct 4
They invite you to dwell on nothing and everything at once. Oddities that soften the sounds that surround you and amplify the beat of life in each breath you take. Far from strangers but hidden in plain sight. Indulging your focus through a narrow tunnel view. Dilating your pupils and lifting your skin through spontaneous extraordinary sensory awareness while depriving you the passage of time. A temporal trap in eternity before you snap and walk away.
Brandon Sep 8
It started with questions
answers poured out like waterfalls
crashing in tempo, truth flooded our ears

it was met with your gaze
a quiet stare that lit my soul
the fire grew, yearning for more

then, your touch
searching with tenderness
grazing me as if you were rose petals

did I provide the right answers?
Eyes are sensory organs
They receive what's fed to them
You read what brain read of them
Beauty doesn't lie in beholder's eyes
The blind can appreciate beauty
Despite the eyes failing in duty
Eyes are no repositories
You guys to churn beautiful and ugly
Kitten Yvad Aug 16
Stab me .
I dare you.
Here, with you pressing
against my body

physical pain;
I'll accept no other forms
of pain from you.
inflict me then,
my little prayer

our bodies invite now.
i know you're hungry
for touch
with your whole soul,
you say this much
&I'm starving

I'll start with your ribs,
my mouth
Then eat with my fingers

Devour you.
You.. think I will not?
small, i'm "just" strawberries.
well, slice into me!
June 6, 2020 . I was feeling a little bold. Well... a lot.

Everything was suddenly happening everywhere, all at once all around me. We were on general lockdown, all of us at 4pm daily... and buildings were literally on fire so it wasn't just me casually feeling bold. But this isn't actually about physical abuse, its about my own relationship with pain. I was hopeful to make a metaphor to make sense of where I would and wouldn't tolerate new sources of pain in my life
Casey Rodger Jun 21
I see the clouds above me,
They're floating in the sky,
I wonder what they see,
And wonder why they cry.

I listen to the fire,
While sitting in its glow,
Not a thing does it require,
But wood for it to grow.

Gently does the breeze,
Whisper to my skin,
I wander if the trees,
Mind about the wind.

I will not shut my eyes,
Wont miss one part of this,
The sun is giving the skies,
A loving goodnight kiss.
Serene May 2
This candle is honey and vanilla scented,
But it’s so much more than just some sweet savory smell
It smells like 2:00 am on a Saturday
laying on the carpet with my best friends
Laughing about everything and nothing
Not wanting the night to end
Pumpkin pie smells like a chilly October day back in 2008
When we sat on the couch in front of the fireplace
And everything felt okay
Isn’t it strange how you can travel back in time?
All you need is a dash of cinnamon and nutmeg
And suddenly it’s Christmas 2009 when my heart felt light and everything was fine
M Grant Teague Dec 2019
It rains
Torrents of thunder
Hitting glass

It rains
Fingers of pleasure
Hitting skin

It rains
Kisses of moonshine
Hitting earth

It rains
Monsters of terror
Hitting fear

It rains
Waves of peace
Hitting hearts

It rains
Whispers of love
Hitting scars

It rains
Colors of wonder
Hitting metal

It rains
Drizzles of clouds
Hitting hairs

It rains
Daggers of death
Hitting hope

It rains
Sprinkles of silence
Hitting drums
Orchid T Aspen Dec 2019
He prowls,
loose and deadly,
light and hungry.

But they don't tell him,
they don't tell
if they're laughing
or crying.

(Aren't they moving their mouths?)

He pleads,
wanting to fail,
but he warns them, still,

(Why aren't you afraid?)

they don't stop him.

He should run,
save them.

(Please listen!)

He can't,
and black shields him.

(Stop hurting me.)

Void and
and gone,

he stands,

(Don't look at me.)

There are strands
on his fingers,
pulling the bones,



next to nothing
around him,
and black pierces,
picks him.

(Where did they go?)

He hears them part,
then gnashes them,
gnaws them,
his snarls beg from them,

(Where did you go?)

and it panics,
in skin

(Get out of my ears.)

They sicken his eyes,
cover them,
throw them,

(Get out of my ears.)

sense leaves him with nothing.
As nothing,
he stands,


he prowls,



(Move me.)


(Make me.)

and fears,

(Warn me!)



and hungry.

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