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MisfitOfSociety Jun 2019
I want to climb inside to feel your beating heart.
Let me show you another way to love that will bring us closer.
If you say no this may pull us a part.
Let me shoulder my way into you, to become your center.

Shouldering my way into the bunny's burrow,
Shifting my way through the darkness to fill what's hollow.

Something wet and warm is stretching over me.
It welcomes and embraces my entire body.

This is not even half as high as heaven,
But it is as close as spirit.

Many people could not get in,
But I am the perfect fit.

Up to my arms in you,

I am a quater of the way there.

Up to my waist in you,

I am half way there

Up to my feet in you,

I am nearly there.

All the way in now,

All the way...

In.
The shape of the poem provides an answer
Mary E Zollars Jun 2019
Blue jewels and crystal wings
Dance upon the lake
The surface like a soapy bubble
And there is where I lay
The world turns against the sky
Passing flourished clouds
My body grows heavy
Yet I remain light
Sinking through a gleaming gate
Into the numbness of another world
Sunbeams build a crystal cavern
Fragments bright and sheen
Ruby melts through a liquid tomb
As cream swirls in hazelnut tea
Gently sunk in sweet abyss
My body rests in the lakebed

But I fall further
Rising beneath the ground
I lay my back upon the bubble
As a breezy welcome chills my skin
Wine has filled the heavens above
Powdered with brown dust
But the dragonfly still dances
And the kindly Earth keeps turning
So if I stay and watch the skies
Time will bring the clouds again
MisfitOfSociety Jun 2019
I love to sleep with both eyes wide open,

So I can catch my dreams in the real world.

Maybe I just made all this up in my head.

I have written the truest story never told.

I dared to laugh at a joke nobody spoke.

Disembarking the coattails of a trail of smoke.

Where's my car?

I forgot where I parked.

I am lost,

In this labyrinth of thought.

But it is okay.

Maybe this is where I am meant to be,

A place made by me.
MisfitOfSociety Jun 2019
All the Catholics on the Anniversary lie,
Eating Satan's eggs that fall from the sky.
Pull Jesus out of an egg,
To remind yourself that you'll never die!

Plucked the wings off a wounded bird,
That fell from a nest.
Planted fur and gave it rabbit feet,
It was so grateful that it oviposited gifts.

I saw Satan wearing a bunny costume.
He came around midnight and laid some eggs.
If the children rise and miss them,
We will go and cook the nest.

Come to the alter,
Bring a ****** flower,
To be deflowered by the sun.
When we see them again,
The flowers will bring their children,
To the festival of the Anniversary Sun!

Rabbit's mating beneath the Anniversary Sun!
Remembering the death of the Moon's son!

The goddess's son dies,
and lives again.
A ****** blossom bleeds,
And gives him new skin.

Come on everybody it is time to celebrate!
The rebirth of our king!

Sniff a bible verse off of a pagan god's chest.
Hang a devil from the top of a Christmas tree.
A Christmas ghost takes you back to the past.
It is not so bad with Christian imagery.

Come on everybody it is time to celebrate!
The birthday of our king!
MisfitOfSociety Jun 2019
Out of the womb into the microwave.
The woodpecker and the tree.
Following the dead into the sea.

Undead in murky darkness, the darkness of a pale light.
Shimmering through the second presence in my room.
Necromancer raises me like a zombie from my tomb.

Standing on the precipice of the sleeping and the awake,
The siren sings through the holes in my head,
She likes me better when I am half dead.

She likes to play the dead girl when I'm awake.
When I close my eyes the dead dream of me.
Through their eyes I follow them into the sea.
It is here where I meet the woodpecker and become the tree.

A brain cell pops,
When her song starts.
Her disembodied voice comes through the video.
My song skips when it comes on the radio.
Fading in and out like a ghost,
Possessing me when she needs me the most.

It is too **** loud!
Turn down the volume!
Heard it ever since I was born!
******* me into a vacuum!
A silent place,
Where no one can hear me scream!

The baby bunny lost it's head,
The ones thought to be invincible,
Have all been found dead,
In a telephone booth.
Loveless love,
in an electric god's house;
Microwaving brains,
in the woodpecker's soup.

She used my axe to hack off my limbs,
Replacing them with parts made of tin.
She killed the lights fast enough,
For darkness to catch up.
I've forgotten how to love.

How do you even love,
Something that doesn't love?
Get this woodpecker outta my head,
It's making me hear the dead.
Remember when you were happy
Even if for a couple of weeks
It might never come back
My mind and my heart shrieks

Only when I'm not myself
Do I feel accepted
Only when I'm somewhere else
Do I not feel neglected

The diseased sees no cure
The end I might never reach
One day my heart might be pure
Stop this, this incessant screech

Long have I climbed
But the way upwards is bent
One thing I have is Time
On these steps of Torment
The fact of the matter is I'm lost. The dense infinite sea has all the power over me. I go where the wind takes me. There is life all around me, yet I'm all alone. I had people back home, but all of them stayed as I set sail into the mist. I'm cold. The only comfort I have is, that I will inevetably come across some sort of land, somewhere I can take refuge, somewhere I feel safe and warm. Warmth. It's all I need right now.
I write to let my mind express itself and to keep my sanity. Of which I have not a lot left. Had I any to begin with? Why must I suffer. Why must anyone? I don't know if suffering together with someone would ease the pain, or would it simply multiply it. Only time will tell. I hope, I think.
Not knowing is manditory.
That is all I have left.
Soon i might know.
If only because of some miracle, the promiseland finds me.
The bottle, the one I set out into the emptiness, hoping it will find the one I sent it to, and return her to me.
I might never know. Know that feeling.
I might never feel again. Im starting to lose it.
I never learned how to sail.
Thought it comes naturally. I could, but it is keeping me from it. This. This one, that is both a blessing and a curse. The one, who promised me the confession will reach it's goal. How will it know the goal, when even I don't? Empty promises. Just like they promised to help me.
What did I expect
The start of an 11 poem journey about unrequited love, solitude and finding myself
Marla Jun 2019
The ocean was once filled with crowns.
It will tell you all about it
If you sit still long enough,
But you never do.
You see, it saw those children with their frowns
and their struggle to commit
To a world that treats them rough,
yet rarely rewards virtue.

The waves then went out to distribute
Their gifts among those in need,
So that their innocence may scatter
and be spread.
To this day they break as a tribute,
Go watch them while you bleed.
In a moment you don't matter,
you'll sense a weight upon your head.
Diána Bósa Jun 2019
From the sea of smoking souls
I am parted to emerge,
imbuing by aether silk;
the space of your sound.
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