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effie ebbtide Nov 2015
"I got kissed once," she mumbles,
sitting outside the local Sonic,
between her fingers a corndog fumbles,
mixing her slushy with beer and tonic.

The not-so-neon sign of the dive
flickers like a flashlight there;
the activity isn't alive,
its fundamental force impaired.

"I remember it vaguely," she groans,
the seat of her car squeaking,
"The times were full of gasps and moans,
my memories are fleeting."

Many things happen at night
while others are asleep.
Under the not-so-neon light,
the stillness made her weep.
Inspired by the odd stillness of nightlife.
sonicchild Jan 2015
'Twas just a dream
Enough to **** the sleep
Mongering fantasies these eyes can't keep
Of that which a heavy heart is filled                              
Is not, it's not yet ready to spill
Elijah Corbeau May 2014
While relaxing in an open field
Carving thoughts out of scenic jumble
I bore witness to a king of sights
And afterwords I lay there humbled.

For the briefest of moments
(Although relative, looking back it possessed no time)
I was not in a mere field anymore
And I was quite sure it wasn't my mind.

The clouds danced and swirled for display
Looping through an ever-blue sky.
And out of that beautiful, blasted way
Arrived something riding a north winds sigh.

It revealed itself, beautiful, splendid!
Towers of marble! Azure cascades!
Mountains tall, Emerald Halls,
Amber forests beside Evergreen glades!

And flying astride the floating island,
Were winged men holding spears of light!
They accompanied it, protecting the jewel,
Truly great protection for the Island of Flight!

Then while passing through a nearby mist,
The island seemed to disappear!
It caught itself in the clouds above
And the next instant the skies were clear.
Sonic and Knuckles!
Shelby Azilda Apr 2014
12:00am spontaneous hour long drive to Sonic,
With close friends.
The perfect tonic,
For an uneasy heart.
Adam Apr 2014
the ocean between you and me* can sometimes feel like a
gleaming apollo. it just doesn't seem real though, the
jellyfish are murderers. here, look through my
kaleidoscope. it feels like  
a lesser coming home, if you know what i mean. but
when will you come home? hopefully by the next time i see
a snow flake in her hand. because i promise that
i will break you. and i'll take you. to the
caverns, where in the dark a
dance pianist plays. and on this trip i'll be
leaving the last behind. sit tight, youre not
leaving my waiting room, like in a
silent picture, where in it,
days all seem the same.
written with song titles from numerous bands (italicized).

— The End —