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George Krokos Nov 2017
If we could make something
just come out of nothing
it would then be magic
and seem almost tragic
if we didn't all believe
it was there to deceive.
--------------------
Written in 2016
The Dybbuk Nov 2017
I haven't slept in days.
It's like something...
is missing.
My mind is just a haze,
It's like something...
is forgotten.
Maybe it's just a phase,
It's like something...
is changing.
My morals in a craze,
It's like something...
is wrong.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
What is wrong with me?
Srirachasauce Nov 2017
Shards strike C-minor on the marble, I
step slowly, on tip toes, ever so lightly, I
fly on feet above flickering flecks, I
will not wallow where what traps lay, I
am after something bigger, something stronger,
something solid and not see-through, and
I will become something.
Imran Islam Nov 2017
Listen, I am not emotional
I'm so clear and so real
I am not wood or not a stone
Don't treat me like I'm someone
Maybe something is wrong
Maybe something is done
I am just me; I am just small

Don't get me wrong, my friend
I'm not your type, not your beloved
I just drive myself, alone
I am so easy and so simple
So will you stay or run away
Maybe something is wrong
Maybe something is done
I am just me and doing well

I smile like the moon
I talk like the noon
I'd be fresh as the day
I'd walk on the right way
I don't ignore you like another one
Maybe something is wrong
Maybe something is done
I am just me that is all…
Tristan Brown Oct 2017
Sometimes you need something more
Some type outside force

No not me
I'm not good enough
I am not the greatest of all healers

So sometimes you need something more
The one and only true outside force
All of your pain would be relieved
All you have to do is believe
I wrote this for a friend of mine. She struggles and I just can't help or heal her. So maybe if she would come to believe, all of her struggles would be relieved. Maybe she will see this and it will touch her. Maybe there is one of you out there that need see this more than her. I pray that maybe this is a start in the right direction.
Tuffy Mutombo Oct 2017
At first his hand prints were soft
Touching me gently, slowly and softly
Then his ego got fed
They became hard
Found strength to swing

My face the target
Swinging and swinging
He hit with a passion

I was his lover and his target
I forgave and he reloaded
Bullets in hands
Shot and my heart he destroyed

My inside pain became seen by many
Bruises and bumps, cut lips and black eyes
They asked why I never left
I told them he took something from me
He took my heart and left me feeling empty
To fill that void I replaced his love with my pain
Some called him an abuser
I called him my lover

To me it was all the same
This piece was written from a woman's point of view. It's not easy to know and hear of stories of woman that have been abused. If you know about someone who has gone through this kind of pain stand up for the voiceless.
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