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Gale L Mccoy Feb 10
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Detatchment and wishing illusions
I morph into different people to distance from myself
When I truly return inside the rage is blinding
The loathing is unimaginable
Twisted vines with thorns wrap themselves around my lungs, suffocating me and digging into me ever so deeply
The demons tug at my legs, their strength gradually increasing enough to bring me to the floor
I long to scratch myself up as they wish, as I deserve, until they allow me to jump out of my own skin
I long for my soul to be heard
My true self isn't enough, it's infuriating
They have taught me that time and time again
What a pity it is, you silly little girl
Do you really think this torture will stop
When it's all
You are built for
Today I am drowning
In a sea of thoughts
An ocean of 'If only's
That last night have brought

I wish you were here
Lying right by my side
But I know that's impossible
For with my sleep you die

Your beauty is unmatched
Your voice, music I hear
Your perfection is fitting
As it's wholly unreal

That's why at night
I always want to scream
Because I'll see you
But in the end...

You're just a dream.
About an actual dream I had, of someone I'd never met in my life. It was too vivid, it left me stunned when I woke up. I couldn't go to sleep again until I finished this.
I wish I could have that.
I wish I could have his kiss.
I wish I could ignore what the world judge against my actions.
To allow him to be comfortable with me and for me to do the same.
To hold him like my life depends on him.
To cherish his love for me.
I wish I could be that girl.
I wish that I wasn’t weak.
Wish that I could be taller.
Confident.
Smarter.
Beautiful.
I wish I was told I was beautiful.
Not by mom.
Not by female friends.
By a boy.
A boy who interests me.
A boy who is a gentleman.
A boy. Period.
I wish it would be that easy.
I wish destiny was true.
I wish love at first sight exist.
I wish for true love.
I wish.
And I long.
For a possibility that is unreal.
Johnny walker Dec 2018
Today Is a day of feeling so lost almost unreal this day does seem, the day that's been coming for me
the day my wife passed
away no more
hiding
but the memories of her are still so strong I know I'll shed tears for Helen today
and although she far away
what seems to be light years but In reality seem more like
yesterday
but she here In my heart and there will remain a place to where she truly
belongs
A year today has this day been coming for me still fresh In my today I'll shed tears for my Helen
Annie Dec 2018
You're just a soul
Without a body
A void, the hole
Inside me

I am unable to give you a form
A structure to the laughter I hear
You're mystical
More than just a smear

You're my intangible creation
Above everything, and all
You'll rise with me, if I fall

Too holy for the rest
Unfathomed, my beloved
Keeping me closest
With requisite gazes
Grassblade Dec 2013
Sledding, a white flurry of glitter
Glass trees throw soft needles a-sprinkle
A blissful silver rocket. It all flies by
Sparkles of diamond on the ceiling or sky

Radiant light, its fate to be wrinkled
by the dim labyrinth of this shining prism.
Gray aurora, dancing in the diamond rain

Iron curtains hide the truth
Glass and pains of steel, in a prism of gray
Do you see windows or mirrors?
All I see, a magnificent pane

A merry toast! To all I say cheers,
with a smile worth its years.
Lift your brittle glass as you would lift a curse.
And drink heartily from the once molten, crystal sand.

Drink the guile and drink the hate
Drink the lies of shame and berate
Drink to see that a flower in  gray
is a prism for life, not a fancy bouquet.
Sometimes I feel like I'm just never going to get there,
Only I can't express this to people:
They'll think I'm being ridiculous because I am so young.
When I looked from afar to this very point in my life though,
I guess I thought it would be different,
Like I'd feel more ready for anything.
Instead it feels like my dreams are still ten years away from me,
Which makes me doubt they'll be five years away like how I'd imagined they would be.
Maya Oct 2018
i don't believe in anything fully
and i don't believe in nothing fully

how does one define themself?
no set ideals, no morals, no concrete idea of what the **** i'm doing.

making a decision is terrifying when you don't know which side you prefer.

sometimes i don't eat or sleep because i don't recognise the feelings as hunger or pain or tiredness. just white noise in the back of my mind.

i am a stranger to myself. these roads i travel are blurred and fractured.
giving myself an identity makes me feel like i have to be something.

and all i know how to be is nothing.
unimportant thoughts from the chorus, while the main character appears to have run off stage left and left the building.
jas Aug 2018
love is not what love is or what love used to be
love grows. and love grew inside of me for the very first time.
true love that is, love that i thought would never exist except in movies or my favorite romance novels.
imagine falling in love with your best friend, unknowingly.
days pass you by and the sun shines on a sun-kissed face,
embracing all of life beauties. without knowing you fell for love of everything.
love of life, the trees, the universe, people and those who inhabit your life.
every small thing became big, within reach was possibility.
for new chances, changes, and that's when it hit you.
HARD.
like a brick, like bricks, like the titanic came and sunk on your heart , on your whole body even
in the most angelic way, your heart was full of life, of peace, unity of the most purest form of love.
seeing their face for the first time after that was mesmerizing.
tiny butterflies filled your stomach, any chance to talk to , to be in their presence, fighting the urge to jump into a full of *** rage.
blood running warm between your veins , melting away deep inside your body.
if only they could notice you...
until the end, is where this story gets better.
perhaps , a fairy tale ending is in store for you, or perhaps the best is saved for last.
perhaps, a few exchanged glances, a small grin at your jokes, a simple brush against the arm, leaves an open discussion of flirtation.
fluttering of the hearts , engaging in more than a friendship, but an assurance.
completely lost from the start, we somehow found ourselves tangled deep into the web of mystery.
so,
when we reach the end, remember it is also the beginning of a love so true,
reciprocating feelings deep inside, where both parties can know longer hide it.
to fight the urge to not love, is torture in the deepest form.
love is what love was, and love grows into something more.
love grew into my soulmate.

                                             with love,
                                                        a soul.
Grammer is not important , unless it is. don't bother.
this is why i need an editor, oops...
(take a shot how many times i said love, LOL)
perhaps, this isn't a poem.
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