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Pauline Morris Mar 2016
I've slowly came to the realization
Of what makes me so craven
I now know what is killing me
It's not what I thought it would be
It's not the pain, agony, or strife
That is so ******* rife
That's been there all my life
It's not the monsters, demons, or tragedy
No it's not any of the things I thought it would be
No, I thought I was killing time, but I've realized time is killing me
When you think he's dead
he rises from his ashes
Like white winter
conceals life in death
Dorian Feb 2016
Bruised and beautiful tall tree
with heavy-hanging, over-ripened
fruit that weighs your branches.
Should I be a picker?
Lighten the load.
Will I be(e) a keeper?
Produce sticky liquid from the pollen
of your prickly flower.

Have I been the wind that makes them sway
that makes you say, "Quiet.
I'm hurting.
Be gentle,
I'm yearning
for so much more than you give me."

I want to bring rain.
Wet your roots and make it spring again.
They extend deep
and so far beyond me.
I'd hit the dirt, sink
and you'd drink me.
Fill you up,
something sweet.


Then I'm also the dry lake bed,
and you are the sun.
Then we're both the 96 million mile
uninterrupted beam of energy
that makes us one.

You, the powerful, scorching fire
through the vacuum of space.
The world feels your hot touch in mid day.
And my arid cracked surface
of evasive avoidance
reflects your energy
back at you,
trapped in the atmos-

Spherical star,
you've brightened my life.
One day I'll be stronger
learn to soften the strife.

My magical lover,
ever burning goddess.
Should I be kept as your lover,
the ever failing novice,
I imagine us
melting into each other in August.
The tail end of summer,
stronger humble and honest
and in love as ever.
Damian Murphy Jan 2016
If you are having a bad day
Full of problems, trouble and strife
Do not let it in any way
Make you think you have a bad life!
Anthony Perry Jan 2016
An open mind is an open vein.

Insane thoughts convey into Cain intravenously then pour out vicariously through Ables brain like a river created from fruitful rain.
 
I don't want to be like Cain or end up like Able, to live disabled and brittle or serve a god and live as a biblical *******.

Realism on a canvas of skin and bone painted by a hand led by sin and the unknown, a brothers keeper estranged with the blood of his own

kept in a state of strife and decay with only dead crops and his thoughts, hes cursed with the lasting of life.
Jellyfish Dec 2015
I wonder,
have you forgotten about me yet?
I'm not sure that I'll ever forget you
even though I'm wanting to, so badly
It seems my mind isn't ready to let me.
But I have to keep trying.
And it'll take a while for me to stop crying
but at least I won't be denying,
my longing for you
to still be in my life.
Yeah, we had strife
but somehow we managed and
right now I'm tired of standing
here without you beside me.
Please just pull the knife out of me
set me free from this agony, maybe
give me an anaesthetic to numb all
of this pain.
I'm waiting for Felicia Amnesia to
sink into my brain.
It hurts to miss you.
Mark Lecuona Nov 2015
What blood that would flow inside of us
melted from twin peaks before our birth
could ever turn us against our own?

The reflections come from our eyes
And within them are his revealed words


What heart that hears its companions
in harmony with its own voice would
ever silence itself and deny its purpose?

Each white light brightening the green
Drawing us nearer to the season


What braided rope would willingly
unravel until each thread has become
so weakened it cannot love another?

As we think once again of a baby
We offer the plank from within our eyes


What family would dishonor itself solely
to preserve the desires of each person
over the strength in the love of the many?

*So we may cross the divide between us
Upon the path we have laid for forgiveness
Cody Haag Oct 2015
He was a boy of weakened steel,
Pain and anguish he often would feel.

But he loved a boy, who centered him here,
Who coaxed him through love and soothed his fears.

And that same boy often wondered,
If he deserved—by such love—to be thundered.

But then he realized he felt the same,
Felt that he was insignificant, deserved all blame.

But that defines love, in one specific way,
Through tragedies and heartbreak, it never sways.

And though it can be battered, and bruised by life,
True love survives all of that strife.

The boy’s heart was incredibly sore,
But he can now label that time of his life “before”.

“Before” he found him and fell in love,
“Before” he knew that safety was a dove.
“Before” he knew that dove was a boy,
One with, whom, his life could unfurl.
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