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Kay 6d
Theres a part of me swirling around inside
Hoping to be free, to be discovered.
Yet when I let it out, everything changes.
It takes over me completely.
Consumes my soul and the darkness overtakes the light.  
I drown in my own freedom..
Am I supposed to bury it down so deep I hopefully forget about it?
I can live in the light and pretend the rest doesn’t exist.
Yet I’ll be denying a whole entire half of me.
I don’t know if it’s even half really..
It doesn’t like to share..
it’s either dwindled down n hidden or it takes completely over.
But I can’t deny it’s there even while suppressing it so well.
Even in my happiest moments it finds a way of exposing itself and I have to cover it up with a fake smile and pretending to be perfectly well.
It hits me like a brick ******* wall.
No matter how high the bliss or how low the pits I’m in.
It always has a way of surprising me.. reminding me it’ll never go away.
I could live a lie, or live completely taken by this darkness.
I fear there is no middle ground here.
They say time heals
All wounds,

And I'd like to
Think the saying is

But there are days
My heart beats,

Until the very last
Beat makes a sound.

And here I am,
Once again,
Wanting to drown.

It seems life
Is relentless,

And I just want
To end this, because
Pain is endless.

Nothing goes my way,
And in a way,

I know deep down,
It's going to
Be okay.

It may not get better
Right at this moment,

But I know heartache
Won't last forever.

I can stay stuck
In the past,
And reminisce,

Or move forward, and let
It all coalesce,

And choose to merge
The past with
The future,

And do my
Best not to regress.
Grounded me earthside
Fingers of twine

Pulled me from him
Steadied my spine

Fingers of dread
Waiting, waiting

Pointing to the door
Aching, aching

Tap my sternum
Baby's lullaby

Help me breathe
Write me right
Bekah Halle Jun 11
To know one's heart is to unlock yourself from the darkness of the mind; freeing the soul to live Its true self.
Spicy Digits Jun 4
I was the idiot clown watching the well-suited circus

It was at the 14th tooth whistle that my brain said goodbye

So many words had died and were forced to the front of her mouth

I scanned her face with intrigue

Such formality had caused deep ravines to form around her eyes, her lips

She had signed and surrendered her personality for this job years ago

Perhaps it was the price she paid to be found worthy of listening to

I wondered if she in a small corner of her home loved to turn inside out. Dance.

I wondered

Before being interrupted with another ambiguous, impossible question

But I couldn't care, just as her voice couldn't care

The circus was still in session.
𝐕𝐕 Jun 3
Her hair, reminiscent of glass
Dusty perplexions, missing pearlescent marbles
She's a dream awaiting the arrival of the next writer
To speak of her story to the masqueraded creature
Posing as light to the dark universe she's encased in

She's the raging madness in her soul
Thrashing yet loving anyone who kisses her
Hidden love affairs, descending silhouettes
Leftover clothes tossed unruly; a decadent stench
Intrusive but polite to wilting foliage

Lip stains, droplets of blood, dislocated jaws
Time, unforgiving as always, punishes its victims
Misery coats her barely twinkling soul
The one who shatters her mirror
May forgive her to finally be free.
Traveler May 31
We came here to experience love
This is the only place love exist
Question is..
If so will we be able to take love with us when we go?

Perhaps this is the only place
where music exist
Angelic arrangements
cosmic gifts

Perhaps this is the only place where hate exist
The gravity of separatism causes platonic rifts

Time and space can exist anywhere?
Perhaps only here..

I love it here
and I won’t let go
Nor lose my connection
to love, music, time, space and soul!
Traveler 🧳 Tim
Nat Lipstadt May 31
who thinks like this…
as my old guy body
creaks and groans
concerto moans of all
its ow own, ow-ing
a debt to oneself that’s
so overdue, the collateral
collectors, are disinterested,
but a passerby attentive,
sees on the street, my attention
riveted to dollar bills
that went to greet the street,
slipping from my overly full-
crooked fingers-bent, my sad
hesitation to bend and retrieve,
offering their lithe services, but
I pride~demure, internally
reflective, that I need as well,
pilates classes more for my
the cri of the heart & soul,
more than this body, ruefully
bending, remembering, reflecting
that it is powerful pride, the last,
that goeth before the fall…

Fri 5:10AM
May 31 2024
In the same sunroom
My Dear Poet May 29
a little piece please
just a little piece

for the hole in my soul
to fill the whole of my soul

just a little piece of peace
for me
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