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cupid Nov 12
drapetomania is the intense desire to run away from home
i have always been a wanderer
a drifting spirit
i like places i shouldn’t be
and to parallel that i dislike places i need to be
i despise my classes and i love empty hallways and alcoves
i am captivated by the feeling of walking away from my house
bewitched by abandoned houses and grimy alleyways
ensnared by groves of trees and creeks
sadly my “home” is the house i grew up in
i say it is my home only because i am confined to it, because it is where i need to run from
home for me is not where my heart is but where i have been trapped
my place was predetermined
my psyche was chained to the foundation of this place
a ragged person tethered to a crumbling house
my need to be somewhere else is insatiable
i’m not aloud to leave
i feel restrained
i can feel the serpents of my manic tendencies
rolling beneath my skin
a fever enveloping my coherence
my wanderlust, my drapetomania is getting to me
i can’t sleep
my drawings have morphed into scribbles and pen sketches
and my mirror is covered in expo-marker words of disgrace
i look at my reflection and i’m told i imprisoned myself
i can see only that i am a monster
a monster with an obsessive, excessive, and exaggerated wanderlust
i cant wait to leave this gods forsaken place
Lyn-Purcell Oct 15

I cannot pretend to be something
I already am...

There's enough hatred in the world...
Lyn ***
Isabella Rose Sep 29
There’s a little girl sitting alone,
there's a war in her family,
there’s a war with her friends,
and there is a war in her head.
she wants peace
because all of the wars in her life are on and off
and everything is falling to what she never wanted
what she never wanted was a war
but there is a war that is making her fall to the ground and the ground is only what has kept her standing.
but even at times floors can break and people can fall through.
Because there is a little girl sitting alone,
and there is a war in her family,
a war with her friends,
and there only ever was a war in her head.
And she doesn’t know what to do.
Em MacKenzie Sep 23
We determined our future in a game of M.A.S.H
but the outcome we could never measure,
and you know what they say about one person’s trash
it ends up being someone else’s treasure.

My eyes are black and blue,
bruising that came from you.
With nothing right to say and nothing left to do.
I sewed my mouth closed, next time I think I’ll use glue.

Her heart strings were pulled just too tight,
they would snap and break with any given pressure.
And she could never hit the notes just right,
but one person’s disdain is another person’s pleasure.

My eyes are black and blue,
bruising that make up shows right through.
With nothing right to say and nothing left to do.
We played every board game but never stopped with clue.

I’ve never been one for odd numbers
unless it’s the number seven.
Numerology really makes me wonder
is there a mathematical equation to heaven?
My birthdate became a date of rebirth
as every year I killed a part of myself,
it’s not that I believed myself to lack worth,
it was just a challenge to see if plastic happiness could bring health.

My eyes are black and blue,
representing every shade and hue.
Like a serene painting of morning dew.
I’ll keep spinning it until it becomes true.

“He was a painter who only painted in red.”
There’s that connection between art and bloodshed.
I hang all those pictures on the walls inside my head,
‘cause they’ll never match the colour of the room with my bed.

My eyes are black and blue,
but even the swelling can’t block my view.
With nothing right to say and nothing left to do.
I’ll have to accept there’s somethings you can’t construe.
Tarik Aug 16
Isolated I stood at the shadowed corner
illuminated only by the street lamp
across the decrepit road.

Deafeningly silent I sat perched
at the bench awaiting my vessel
to deliver me.

Coyly he drifted into my universe
wearing a cloak and a smile
that would charm a Queen's guard.

Stiff like a board I stared at him
existing at a medium between
the end and the beginning.

Puzzled I was at a loss of how
to approach this drifter and his
exceedingly charming demeanor.

Thunderously my heart thumped
waiting anxiously for my vessel
that could not come soon enough.

Do I dare succumb?
A coconut grove
With one tall wind turbine.
The wind blows amused!
Mahra Jul 23
I feel as though my blood turned thick,
and it's hard for it to circulate.
I felt something inside me flick,
and this is something I can't escape.

I hold it in, but I cannot breathe.
I hate when I am in this state.
I try to stop, but the words arise,
and by the time it ends, it's already too late.
Anger management.
Lost in the glow of the eyes (Past)
The World, I don't really care (Present)

Wish for amnesia (Future)
Theme: Past-Present-Future
Then, nothing matters.
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