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Zywa Aug 2021
All my life it is

mysterious that I think --


with all my body.
Collection "Being"
RQ Jul 2021
i see you in my dreams
i see you in my visions
although you are not mine
i think about you all the time
no one compares to you
you make me happy
you bring me joy
you may not know it yet
i pray someday you will
time will come to pass
because i like you a lot
i really do
all i ever think about is you
i like you a lot
Elizabethanne Jul 2021
Creep inside her body.
Start by pulling out hearts and souls.
Carve up and out room for yourself-
in what you recognize as a graveyard.
Unearth every other decaying thing buried deep within
make them sing-
bring them kicking and screaming.
Let em have enough sun they relearn how to miss it.
Never allow them close enough to keep the warmth.
You know better than anyone dead things shouldn’t have feelings.  

Crawl out of my resting place.
Dead things don’t stay dead.
When finally remembered sunshine
Stretches and curls.
Stays long enough to taste-
I revive in myself.
You’ve lived inside me
As long as this body needed a grounds-keeper.
To sweep away the moss and ivy climbing up all the tombstones.
You float through the aisles night after night
picking up unearthed ghosts to follow us home.
Your finger tips scratching against the tops
of all the dead-end versions of me.
I’m tired of hearing the wailing that follows.  
Cadaver girl,
I want my body back now.
Won’t you please put yourself to rest for me.


- I dig this grave barehanded and open sorrow
- Planting the garden to over run the cemetery
please cadaver girl
- know you are the last version of me I ever plan to bury.
Elizabethanne Jul 2021
You came in with the pain
I’d cracked open every window and wrist I had
trying to breathe the light back into my body
A naive attempt to expose my anguish to the cold
Freezing it right where I thought it belonged
as a foreclosure sign adorning my front yard
You came in with the snow
Mud creased against calloused teenaged boy hands
frostbitten nails staining clay down my stomach
Welted and rusted they end their exploration
resting on the tip tops of my thighs
you came in with the scent of spruce & foreboding
I have none of myself stitched up again
By the time you come in to break me open
Straining against these ties that bind
I’d always wanted to be loved
Showering me in pine needles
I wore the story of our little dance
like a priceless piece of art
That speaks on how
Nature meets beauty splashed
with the fragility of being a teenaged girl



- I  picked the pine needles out of my hair many years later
Lining them up like my little daydreams of what could have been
Daisy Hemlock Jul 2021
I've learned to know without thinking
In fact, I barely even use my brain
I'm dumb.
But I know a few things
And at least I have a heart
Aidan Jul 2021
Always on my mind
Always lingering in the shadows
Always appearing in the quietest of moments
Always on my mind
You're always on my mind

I don't know when this has started
I don't know when this will end
I met you once after 5 years of separation
Full acknowledgement of it being one time thing
And yet
You're always on my mind

No contact in months
Yet always on my mind
Always to where I need to look at previous words or profile
Just to get you back into a dark confined corner

What had changed that one time we met?
What switch was flipped?
Afraid I cannot say
For I do not even know myself

I saw some lyrics in a video
"Always on my mind 24/7  365"
The relation to you seems uncanny at this point

Always on my mind
Always haunting me
Always planting seeds
The end?
Who knows...
Simply getting words off of my chest that have been weighing on me
Elizabethanne Jul 2021
Willows unearth themselves
all along the coast line of this small beach town
They spend the off season gnarled-
empty & reaching
stretching towards the shipwrecked siren call of the waters below
these willows dropping in the ocean are weeping
And so am I
Descovia Jul 2021
If you believe, my spells are
a product measured on games and luck.

My identity will remain a mystery

If you boil an egg in water, it becomes hard.


If you boil a potato in water, it becomes soft .

Words build a way, but it's your actions which determines you will meet fate or your destination.

It doesn't matter what you go through.

It's what you decide to be through the situation!


Whether you can or can't

You decide, if it's falsified or a living lie. There's a difference, between what you can decipher with your mind or eyes

You can turn pain into art or truth.

In the end, it's ultimately up to you.
Realwords. Tough Times. Think on this
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