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The Vault Jul 2017
This is what I am
And what I was
For as long as I could remember
I was trash under your feet
Only trash that could be thrown away
Whenever you felt like it.
I was treated like trash
So I thought I was trash
I thought I was only good enough to be used
And abused
And cut
And bruised
I thought I deserved it because of you
I was trash
But trash doesn't always stay trash
It gets found
Treated like it isn't trash.
Pampered because it was never trash.
I am trash
No I was trash
But now I am not
Because trash doesn't stay trash forever
Sometimes it gets recycled.
adeline Jun 2017
Falling leaves as for I wish another day to live
From all the battles that I've fought with; will you consider me brave?
For what it is seen; this is not my home
Who were loved by many; trashed by some

As for I was once a sinner here on earth
Now a lost soul who is seeking for the truth
I say to you; thank you for the wisdom
From a disciple who aims to enter the divine Kingdom

Despite of this; I will arise
As an angel in disguise
Engulfed by the love
From the heaven above

As you bend your head
I am lying in cold and dead
Corey Boiko Jun 2017
I met a girl in France,
Reading the same book!



Except it wasn't quite like that...

So my book turned into a cover.

It seemed I had picked up some thing mesmerizing,
While browsing a train station bookstore.

This tale of desire and loss enticed me,
But wasn't it just cheap fiction?

--------------------------------------------------

A girl met me in France,
And we got an empty beach at sunset!



Except it wasn't quite like that...

Trash littered the closing beach
closest to downtown Marseilles.

Loud speakers played
Something upbeat,
Missing its bass,
confusing it.

Even the sky was obscured.
But wasn't it still like that?
true story
Zero Nine May 2017
Don't be afraid to
come into the backroom.
Part the curtain first
if you think you need a peek,
but honey, I've been waiting
here with all the answers.
You'll see.

What do you seek from this trans-trash
patch of bleached grass? Underneath,
infinite versions of me/my design holes,
tunnels in mud searching for sunshine.
But I want to ask you, who claims the noose?
Who gets to rise past the others in the end,
but then gets the knife so as to start again?
All ants, all ants, pull all but two legs loose,
and you're dancing in pants, wearing the tune
of the long, last living human in blues.
....

Inspired by the various works of David Lynch and Die Antwoord
Austin Bauer May 2017
entirely empty except
for a few fallen petals
from a red tulip...
entirely empty except
for a wrapper of a piece
of spearmint gum I
just put in my mouth.
Mint usually helps my
stomach when it's upset.
EJ Aghassi May 2017
nana gave me cash
for gas--bless her heart--and still
i spent half on Pabst
a haiku for my grandmother
Wordsinalign Apr 2017
You are Persephone coaxing riverbeds of lush green to flourish from each man’s desolate home
And as romantic as this seems;
if something isn’t your burden to carry,
You have no obligation to.

You may be tempted to pick up other people’s trash to spin them into gold,
but save some of that compassion for a rainy day.
You’ve got enough of your own baggage to deal with.
Heal yourself before you heal others.
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