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lmnsinner Oct 2018
she asks at last,
is this one for me

“of course it is,
was waiting for visualizing
the Oh,
when I heard
you stumbled into it”

she then confesses,
she has
a “tendency to stumble”
without an explanation

her answer is in her manner subtle,
that instantly invigorates,
so decidedly her style,
her answer,
raising more questions,
defeating the illusion of
anybody masculine overconfidence of the challenger

she puts the ”oy” in coy,
deflating my upper-handed attitude,
with an answer tantalizing and hinting,
so simple, it explains everything
and nothing

it seems that when she stumbles,
it’s me that actually,
“all fall down”

ah woman,
when you best me,
it brings forth the best
and adds an
in this poetic beast,
two play fighting cubs nipping
each other. the in us gaming

in this wordplay game,
so exciting,
her subtle reasoning teasing
results in a man as
a happy sore loser
Emma-Jane Apr 2018
Insurrection upon closer inspection she craved a deeper recollection of life.
She carved up her wrists and so she insisted it helped the pain so she'd knife.
When the nights became longer, during the days she'd ponder her strife's.
Until the day that she'd cried, out to her parents she'd lied: Why didn't you see it. You can not be it! The monster that's killed me inside.
It's simply not meant to be.
KM Hanslik Apr 2018
Sometimes we wonder why the past haunts us;
I think it’s because
we can never know where we’re going, we can only know
where we’ve been,
and sometimes where we’ve been feels like
stomachs lined with barbed wire, sometimes it feels like
reaching for a glass of water but finding kerosene instead.

I’m starting to think that I’m going
somewhere warmer, I’m starting to hope
of a place where the sun falls on my shoulders in
soft dappled patterns, a place where my hands
are free to be held, instead of dragging
old skeletons out of the dirt, instead of swallowing
pills just so that I can breathe.
I’m starting to hope that the places I’ve been are
a fading flicker on the way
to something better; and I’ve found
a certain something that sits in my stomach like an antidote
to all the anxiety I used to consume.
The best part is that all of these things
I have a tendency to drudge up are just there, they don’t
possess me like they used to
they don’t make their home in me anymore and they don’t
rattle their skeletons against my ribcage when I breathe.

I’ve learned that the softest remedies can be found
during the lowest of lows; I’ve found
that the truth to the madness is never
going to be where you are searching for it.
Dawn Anderson Jan 2017
To let people run over me
I have a tendency,
I'm a doormat off sorts
With bristles that are coarse
And the personality to match,
What catch.

— The End —