Secret Garden Jan 11

Tired days are trying days, and quite frankly, I'm always tired.

Self respect and morals engulfed in wild fire.

My light snatched and tainted among monsters, not seeming to return.

All the years of same mistakes, why can't I ever learn?

My mind is stuck, so my mind is trapped in a self destructive cycle.

A piece of me, waiting patiently for a warm touches arrival.

Waiting for this ice blockade to reveal a garden of dreams come true.

But who could ever return a love that's been damaged and abused?

An endless mess of string unable to unwind.

I can't help but wish myself gone from time to time.

Aarya Jan 9

Im a traveller,
In search of a light,
It seems like ages but I couldn't catch a sight.

I've been covered with the mud of  fear,
My legs have been sore of the sadness I wear.

Yet I'll walk,
until I uncover the light that I yearn,
until this life ceases to exist,
until this heart arise from the dead,
until the soul cleanses the dread.

You will see me struggle
But you won't see my fall
Regardless of every weakness
I'm going to stand tall

Every time I will be living
In pain and in vain
But always wear a biggest smile
Though I want to cry

I'm going to fight to live
Though destined to die
It may be difficult to survive
But you won't see me fall
I'm going to stand tall

Pallestine beauty

I don't write that kind of poetry
you know the type,
pretty flowing words that trickle down the page like a quaint little waterfall in a fancy garden
while daisies open themselves up with so much confidence
without any doubt

and I say something about myself without saying anything at all

the three dimensional poems that you could take a stroll through
and you can lay in the summer grass by the lake
you could get lost in the meaning

even though you're not so certain what the meaning is,
at least not for sure

no, I'm not so good at that

my words are more like...
running through the forest while it's dark and cold
because you want to get home and you're positive
you just heard something rustle in the dead leaves behind you

like telling your blaring warning signs to calm the fuck down,
it's just an uneasy feeling

like telling the paranoiac to grow up and walk the damn pathway

it's shameful, annoying,
it's just some dumb feeling

I don't write the sweet paintings kind of poem

I write my heart out into my notebook before I scribble it out and decide I had better not bother

my poems are regret-
regretting putting something good in my butchered understanding of art and words

every piece is the best I can do
and that's about it

Medusa Dec 2017

The game has gone a bit cold,

I am gone to ground

If I were to restrict my wantoness
Only to his beheft

I would not be a Woman at all

Only a Woman in Thrall

And nothing is less
unkind to mine eyes
Than a woman in chains
Who does not recognize
Those bracelets

are no friends

my girl,

Ye'll be burned for a witch as sure
As hated for a bitch

Or a butchery.

Let it out,

Let it out,

I beg of thee,

Ye who are Saints,
Ye who need to sing

Let it all out

Before we all sink beneath
This thing, this spelling Hymn

My days have lost their magick.

My ways  barely retain .....

Nothing more or less than

You see in them.

Love me or release me.

Love me or release me.

Love me or release. . . . .


"It's all I can do. . . .. to get ready for you
It's all I can do

It's all I can do."

You can spell this, figure me out.
Yes, said the witch of the Wood.
Gemini Dec 2017

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder why
society chose to ignore our cries.

Rather than saying we would be alright
they told us to look in the mirror,
and find a reason to survive.

You’d think it’d be easy to find a reason why,
to continue down the hall with a smile oh so wide.

But in reality, our demons never really die.

No matter the circumstance,
Negativity plays a role in every life.

Quadruple Oof
Nylee Dec 2017

           Try as far
            try as much
            we get
            we deserve, or don't we?
            that is the only way
            we can accept
            things as they are,
            they're the reason
                   of why
            there are no what ifs
            when reality is
                     playing us.            

Marte Lindholm Dec 2017

One of the phenomena in life,
is that when you have been
treated poorly for a long time,
you'll eventually get used to it

And when you all of a sudden
stumble across someone nice,
you'll acknowledge them,
but then expect them to disappear soon.

Because how could you ever
trust that they'll stay?
Better not get attached,
and hurt another time.

But what if that is a mistake?
Maybe you should give it a shot?
Have a little faith in humanity.
Risk being naive once more.

And then you try.
Everything seems fine,
just waiting for it to get bad.
Or, wait...

Could this possibly be the happy ending you only see in movies?

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