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Asominate Feb 2020
Fingers dipped in purple powders
Fushia gold my makeup
Black skintight latex suit with neon circles
How my outfit is made up

Three rings around my waist
Intersecting, two vertical, one on the horizon
The circles glow with noble gases
Radioactive, after all, I'm an alien

Perfect spheres and concentric rings
Are trending, so I have read
I balance on stacked circles, my six inch latex heels
And floating circles surround the pair of buns on my head

My bones poke through my latex,
Anorexia won't stop my passions
I may not be the body type you want, but I'm the body type you have
And I still enjoy the fashions
Maria Etre Dec 2019
"I"
am
probably
"You"
in someone else's story
Venus Star Dec 2019
the foundations we built without knowing
but
i cant let you in
theres things i need to say to you
but i cant
and i cant keep you out
so i wait

and we keep building
and we dance in silence
to the music
and let the world burn
from the fires of our silence

watched by the moonlight
the ashes are our scars
i just wanted to dance
in our usual trance
Lindsay Dec 2019
I saw your face today
for the first time in 2 years

the lights in my brain that spell out
your name lit for the first time in 1 year

so now I'm writing a poem
for the first time in 8 months

because your eyes reminded me
that love does not live within the construct of time

and the matches you left lie dormant
in my mind until your memory sparks the flame

and I lose all train of thought as I drift into
the hypnotic peace of warmth, crackle and flicker

until the sticks turn to ash and smoke
and I transport back to the cold and dark that is your absence

happy birthday
I hope you're happy

and thank you for every spark you lit in me
and for every spark you will light in me

every December 13th
BLD Dec 2019
i stopped writing because you made me feel loved
when you looked at me, i saw all your worries
your eyes glowed with tenderness
i craved your touch, pure as snow
my tears were my torture but your whispers were my escape
i stopped writing because you were the words i never knew needed to be said
i didn't want anything to change
but you changed
and now i am writing again
Jarrod A Freeman Nov 2019
Break my spirit and clip my wings,
(I feel like falling)
Hold me down and feed me well,
Like the animal I am,
Don’t let me get up and see the worldX
KEEP ME TIED DOWN!

I am on the run, load the bullet into my gun,
I would appreciate if god can **** me and take away my pain.

Imagine not even being 16, and shot dead in a high school shooting,
(Columbine)
Imagine having your face ripped off, torn and ripped apart
(Ed Grin)
Imagine having all you lost, half your family killed by the  Holocaust

Ripped and torn at the seems,
Nothing left for me to see,
Ripped and torn and under appreciation, failing to communicate,
I am falling into the sea!

****** and doomed,
Running blind,
Possessed by the demon.
That lurks in your bedroom.
Are you okay child?
Or are you to busy being consumed!

Imagine being ripped apart,
(Apart)
Imagine being faced off!
(Faced off)
Imagine being blown apart!
(Holocaust)
Imagine being left alone and no one to save you when The possession starts.

This brings it down, to the part where I burn well, ***, drugs and rock n roll, to the devil I sold my soul!

No way, no room to run, to the end of all the kingdom comes,
To the lost of the fallen imagine being on the run, that you have to look over your shoulder every time you
Hear, someone coming!

Imagine
Not the John Lennon song, but it covers elements of sad and destruction
Aaron LaLux Sep 2019
First 5 people that Comment and/or message me right now will get my new book THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3 for FREE right now. I will literally buy it for you from Amazon this very moment.

It's #3 worldwide right now, here's the link if you want to check it out: www.amazon.com/THH3-Hollywood-Trilogy-Lights-Shadows/dp/1950780023
ARCH Sep 2019
Displeased with exhausted mind
Though ugliness embodies perfection
Of the creation majesty empower
The whites aren't right
And black ain't beautiful
Questioning the creativity
And erroneous concept of beauty
We somewhere fades our own reality
Indulge with your voice inside
Whose raising the vocals of equality
Whose antonishing signs
Are reflection of humanity
Now the quest of questions
Is out of answers inherently
Yet hopes are serene enough
To resist a human world
And here the wrong things
Are done with good intentions.
Bee Sep 2019
she
she utters her existence with a cry for help
muffling her sorrow as she ages
fine wine overheating in the garden of evil
hourglass woman pouring herself out
white eyes most vulnerable to camera light
flashes of happiness escape outside sobriety
inside the territory of the boundaries set for her
she exists when we speak her name
water mixes with her blood
deluding illusions made by us
merlot no longer holds pigment
without her eyes to cry cups half empty
she lives when her name is written
meaning she will live forever
her pen a megaphone between fingers
screaming back to her roots
silent when she drinks midday
closing her door to trap her thoughts
paper being her platform
she is home when she can be loud again
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