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Francie Lynch Dec 2018
I know whose toes
Peek out below:
Beneath their nose,
Under lips,
Lower than their waist and hips;
Past their knees and their shins-
Toes they’ll use to count to ten.
Better yet,
With our twins,
They’ll count to twenty to begin,
Then move to forty without linger,
Counting on each other’s fingers.
Toes and fingers, fingers and toes,
Twenty wigglers they’ve come to know,
With twenty fingers to catch and throw.
For now we’ll rhyme toes off to market,
And play Pat-a-Cake
With Ophelia and Brigid.
Ophelia and Brigid, eight months. Granddaughters.
stopdoopy Mar 2019
You're not welcome here

There may be posters
on the outside of the building
with your face on them sayin
"Wanted"
but that ain't an invitation

Pushing past the swinging twins
strutting in, without a care
like you've done nothing,
as if everyone in the room
doesn't want to **** ya

For all the things you've done
they wouldn't need the pay
it'd be a service to mankind,
plenty of folks are glad to put a bullet in yer head

But Darlin'
ya always did have a sweet mouth
I'd love to see you talk your way outta this one

And as soon as you go to speak
I can see it plain as day

BANG
Hot anger; what a feeling.
Kat Raven Dec 2018
I walk along the tight rope in shame.
Whispering to myself "hold your **** together''
Halfway through, almost reaching the end, the pain surges, electrocuting through my whole body, static.
I fall
Not knowing how I'm going to land.
She jumps out from inside of me as I hit the sandy ground.
Head jolts, slow motion review.
Hurting, the pain I deserve, for knowing, knowing too much. the power consumes.
It rushes like a harsh wind, like a storm that cannot be unveiled.
Yielding inside of me, she bursts, and explodes like a thunder exhibition.
Laying next to me, only I can see her.
Her dark eyes staring into mine, I try to look past the horror.
"Don't leave me" a careless whisper.
She vanishes into thin air, I lose myself in despair.
I stare up at the high ceiling, waiting for the other ones to give me life and healing.
One unleashes, but one of fury and anger, Sukubus, the fighter.
She gets up in an aggressive explosive motion and attacks everyone around her viciously.
Here I am again, switching.
Switching, needing those people inside of me to keep me alive.
Like a spirit, without them I am dead.
Creation of the mind fighting against reality trying to show, but hiding in promiscuity.
I'm a good liar, choosing to be honest.
The will I have has weakened to the inner pits of my core, and without these personas, I am nothing but a rotting corpse.
So, I ask for those around me to stop judging me please.
I am only trying, trying for so long, that doing has me acting out too **** impulsively.
Forgive me, I was born to sin, but to love so passionately, a loyal mind of pure integrity.
I wish not to be so alone in melancholy, but defeated, so I stand alone, trying to survive the unknown.
I open my eyes, looking around me, seeing everyone dead, blood scattered and bodies twisted.
I get up, and start again, unleashing another personality.
My personality deformations
SR Nirmal Kumar Nov 2018
Identical twins
Separated at birth?
Tadpole and a fry in a pond
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