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Chantell Wild Mar 2019
smoke gets in my eyes
wetness watering the ashes
I rub it between my fingers
there's nothing left
it dissolves into my skin
everything I had, gone
the fireman's hose
waters the flames
fires do as they must
from ashes to ashes
and dust to dust
life will reemerge
they say,
a small green shoot
bending towards
the morning sun
and my tears
will make it grow
it will become a tree
and I will become me again.
Allison Mar 2019
Here is to the girls
Who tell their stories,
Not for the fame
But to help with the pain
Here, is to the girls.

Here is to the girls
Who are so weak
They fall to their knees
And pray, as they seek
For a way to find peace
With what happened
Here, is to the girls.

Here is to the girls
Who are scared
Of the future
Because of the past
Have no fear
The past doesn’t last
Here, is to the girls.
two roses-
growing in the same bush-
surviving off the same soil-
growing into something beautiful-
becoming something greater-
growing as one

the sun-
shining bright upon them-
encouraging their growth-
lighting up their future-
calming their senses-
kindling the passionate affair-
moving them closer together-
more intimate and dear

the sun neglects its obligation to one of the roses-
refusing a light source for the bloom-
leaving it wilted and begging for nutrients-
brown and fragile-
dying as the sun proceeds to rise over the other rose

the second rose continues growing along with the sun-
in spite of the downfall of the latter-
almost mocking the lesser decaying bloom-
because it has a source of light encouraging its growth-
safe and sound-
not giving any pity to the rotting flower beside it-
soaking up its own source of light-
and not sharing any rays with the decaying blossom-
rendering it useless and unwanted

the selfishness of the one rose-
refusing to share its sunshine with the latter-
results in solely one rose-
instead of two roses
stop taking my light, i want to grow, too
vera Feb 2019
how do i describe the feeling of that january morning? the serenity of the cool air nipping at my skin, while the chilled lake water rocked the wooden dock beneath me. i took the peaceful walk from the house to the lake barefoot. the coolness emanating from the cobblestone seeped into the soles of my feet.
      i walked down the winding pathway and allowed my eyes to scan over the greenery that flanked me on both sides. tulips and lavender flowers blooming in the cold air. mulch filled the area around grass and flowers, keeping them protected and safe. bees kissed flowers and mingled as i strolled passed. how beautiful and tranquil a scene i was honored to witness.
      i dragged ironically eager feet over wobbly brown planks on route to the dock ahead. i felt water sway aggressively beneath my feet as a boat raced past the dock. a glimpse of a small hand waving graced my vision with the passing of the boat. my balance fumbled, but my mentality stayed steady. when i finally lowered myself onto the wooden box on the edge of the dock, the warmth of my coffee finally began to soak into my palms.
      my eyes continued to glaze over the scene before me, and for the next few moments, i felt the serenity of the universe consume my entire begin. after sixteen years, a moment of fulfillment. finally at home.
      the sun sent droplets of his sunlight down to caress the lake and offer her the gentlest of kisses. the droplets glistened off of the lake´s ripples and flirted with the water. they danced and bounced upon the lake until she shone so brightly it was hard to look directly at her. as the two became familiar, i felt the sun retreat. his light slowly faded away and his kisses disappeared all together.
      as the hours passed and he was seated back upon his throne, the lake was left empty, deserted. her sadness did not go unnoticed, the wind understood her pain, so she picked up and pulled us both out of our trance.
      the lake was offered the kinder kiss of the moon, and she accepted. the fainter light and the lighter kisses became what kept her whole. there was a air of mystery surrounding him and the lake soaked it up. he became her new lifesource, she found something that kept her going.
      me, i received my sustinance from writing this poem.
- based on a true story
Dawn Jan 2019
We cling and attach to anyone who stabilizes;
sway in the wind wistfully high as dandelion seeds carry.
We plant ourselves in the ground for survival, but some make the mistake of planting into others.
Our survival relies on those we feed on. Dependent and Fastened. My skin adhered to the thick of your heart.

Why do we deem it necessary to grab fistfuls of each others flesh?
Our instinct reminds us that we are grains of sand when not connected in tandem with one another. We rather starve than feel alone.

Id rather starve and strain every cell of myself.
Breathing seems difficult as your absence weighs heavily on my chest. I cant tell if i'm a lost grain of sand floating along seeding dandelions or if i'm rooted and heaving.
Either way seems unbearable without you.

But in your absence, instead of clinging onto flesh, instead of treating myself as adhesive and surviving for the sake of your breath;

I am living with the pain you made.
tryhard Dec 2018
i do not know
to be honest
what or who i am
or what i should be
i know not
why i am here
or any other reason
to stay a little longer
but what i find
just as hopeful
is i still do
despite not knowing
i am fighting
for a cause i cannot yet name
i am searching
without the assurance of finding
something is keeping me here
in the pointlessness of everything
and i do not why
but i am staying here
and as you can see my entire life is an existential crisis
I breathe memories of every feeling,
A heart pumping emotions through my veins,
Inhaling air of heartache for healing,
To feel nothing but feelings eases pains.

Nourishing my hunger with my loves lost,
Sustaining myself on passionate thought,
Feeding on my feelings at any cost,
Sated by feelings the memories brought.

Loves old and love new are my source of life,
The deep passions I’ve had fill up my lungs,
With strengthening heartbeats beating on strife,
While the sweetness of loving is the tongue’s.

No need to eat or breathe yet still survive,
To be in love is all I need to thrive.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy “Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life” at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
I don’t think of you that often
The eyes and faces all turned themselves towards me
Love no one
However, we may suffer
It’s funny, if you do, you start missing everybody
And I’m afraid
My failures: I had not forgotten them
To have survived so long
It happened, I stopped loving him.
Kora Sani Aug 2018
So it's been 6 years
Almost 7 now
I still remember that day
How it broke me somehow
But look what I did
I made it out
Look what I did
This is me walking out
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