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WickedHope Dec 2016
Snowflakes fall to the earth like suicide jumpers.
And I laugh because if I don't I have to listen to the silence.
Or worse.
And I laugh because I don't want to hear myself crying.

Waiting for icicles to form, and splinter, and crack under their own weight --
These are the games that plague souls;
Wishing away the snow with feet planted in blizzards,
Staring at the moon and trying to bathe in the last dripping morsels of sunlight shining onto the earth.

I lay buried so far beneath laughter and snowflakes that I am too cold to touch.
Touch me and scatter the blisters on my tongue,
For words are only dipped in honey, but it cannot hide the hollows inside.

And here I am, like a snowflake.
Hayley Siebert Dec 2016
Your self entitlement is sickening
When did psychosis become so beautiful?
The image of victim hood so appealing

What must you weep for?
When mummy and daddy pay for your carelessness
Your car, your phone, your clothes

The spoiled soul
intent on self destruction
when you can no longer consume
self harm is on fleek

Your little mind a cascade of self inflicted bruises
Throw yourself into a war zone
The day in the human traffic
Sit under a *******'s glare
live under the shadow of poverty
Sleep by the plague streets

Oh you poor pathetic hipster
Here, have the BPD and PTSD
Sleep with one eye open!
With the knife and dog by your pillow
For the abuser that vowed to return
For the shadows that haunt the night
For the insomnia that wracks your brain
For the voices of a demonic opera

This is not special
This is hell
I am NOT special!
The world owes me nothing!

For what I have, what I want
I fight, I strive, I survive
I am not a snowflake
There are many more like me

Who live by the ashes of temples
By the bombs of sands
In the wake of unclean hands
For virginity stolen!
For childhood lost
By war, poverty, disease, ****

Your ****** cry
with all the middle class entitlement
That muffles out the true cry

The cry of a child in the Gaza strip
The cry of forced marriage
The cry of the cancer bearer
The cry of a soldier in the heat of battle
The cry of a mother who could not feed her babe
The cry of the ***** ripped out
The cry of the elderly
The cry of the camps
The cry
to which you find so pretty
which you know nothing of...

You mold it your life
of middle class ****!
Your glorified bedroom
a western modern pit
Iphone, computer, holiday in the sun
Yet you still feel undone?

So you putrid little fetus
Take my hand, we shall go
where your entitlement can not tread
where the ***** are forgotten and suffering are dead
Like a puzzle
Frustrating, beautiful,
And in the end fulfilling
Finding the right words
The right thing to say
That helps you express
The way you want to be

Like a bestfriend
A confidant
Pouring your soul out
Because you can
Your fears
Your desires
Your problems
Your choices

Like a snowflake
Always new
Always different
Always unique
Not one is alike

Like a child’s dream;
An ice cream shop
So many choices
Too many choices
You want them all
You hate them all
You can’t have them all

Like a piece of art
Whether paint or clay
Different formats
Different colors
Different shapes
And different sizes

Like an orchestra
All different sounds
Coming together
To make one big,
Beautiful, enthralling
And emotional sound

Because poetry is poetry
Everything works
Everything fits
Nothing is wrong
Nothing is right
Just freedom
In words
crystallaiz Mar 2016
the 3pm sun is streaming through
the window with
glued-on paper flakes
illuminating the furniture
casting dark shadows
against light wood
and i'm tasting snow
on my tongue
and thinking that this
feels like freedom
Last time everything felt surreal, but now I feel real. It feels great to be real.
Trevon Haywood Feb 2016
When I close my eyes at night I dream of you.
When I awake to the morning dew I think of you.

Meteo Dec 2015
There is a snowflake
on your eyelash
that I long to be

Take me with you
when you leave

Show the world to me
Sanjukta Nag Sep 2015
He hated the frosty bitterness,
As his blue veins were clasped by
The numbness that winter offers.
To him, it was like falling through
A bottomless pit, where coldness
Eagerly enveloped his body with
The shroud of dark dead hopes.
It was season of depression then.

But on one chilled silent morning,
His eyes saw the girl of his dream
Standing on white carpet of frost,
Catching snow flakes, an icy drop
Touched her soft lilac lips lightly,
Making his aroused heart to melt
All of the ices with burning desire.
Warmth came back in his senses,
Heart awakened from drowsiness
By the sunny glance of her eyes,
That let him fell in love with winter.
It is the season of affection now.
MsAmendable Apr 2015
Darkness falls like snowflakes
It drifts down soft around you
Cold and mysterious
Sleepless and delirious
In a shroud of wordless peace
And sweet release
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