Garry Nov 15

So here I am, in the future; everything is shiny
and the traffic is in the sky,
The revolution didn't come and now
the people with all the toys
dance on our memories and laugh.
The rest of us, shorn of our locks and
once mighty powers,
spend the rest of our days,
eyeless in Gaza,
grinding grain at the mill.

Your teachers said that a “B” isn’t a perfect score.

So your chase has been for perfection ever since

your “C” presentation that didn’t prove to the class that you could present yourself perfectly.

As if you're a Christmas toy.

Presents are supposed to be what they want.

and every time you meet a boy


Another poem I wrote in my college class.
Anne Hanratty Oct 19

I'm frequently told to
'Stop and smell the roses'-
I have hay fever.
Also, if I were to stop, I would no longer be moving so
My mind has more time to fill itself up with the little thoughts,
The ones I'm walking the streets to forget.
Rose is one of my favourite scents but
Every time I try to take it in
My cheeks swell and my eyes water;
I'll just stick to being a walker.

I wasn't aware of this, but the nose must play an important role
In the improvement of mental health because
I am also told to
'Wake up and smell the coffee'-
I don't want to wake up, though I will,
And I can't get out of bed, so,
Could you just bring me a coffee?
It might inspire me.

Within the cover of night I am sitting;
-Doing anything other than sleeping-
In bed thinking about what if somebody told me to
'Wake up and smell the roses',
I'd take that as an order to kill myself.
Surely it's a death sentence
To do a combination of the two
Which I have already explained that I cannot,
Will not

Today, I did attempt to smell those roses,
And I bought myself a latte,too,
But all I could taste and smell was ash,
Which made me panic
Because it felt like I was burning alive and
I liked that-
Now I understand that cigarette smoke can sometimes be so potent, that it
Drowns the soul.

Tobacco is a substance of which, however, I feel I can relate to:
It's grown;
Briefly nurtured;
Labelled (with a warning);
Used by many and
Set alight by a temporary flame;
Used up in a puff of smoke.

I've only ever had my lips around a cigarette end,
I often wonder what it would be like with a bellend, I digress;
Perhaps sex could get me out of bed?
Maybe I'll just read a book.

I wrote this poem for my own benefit in all honesty, it's just something to help my mind unravel itself
yellah girl Oct 19

me too.

six or seven years old,
on my Little Mermaid bed,
playing doctor or predator,
with my innocence.

me too.

eight or nine years old,
in children's church groups,
asking me why i didn't shave
or wear a bra.

me too.

eleven years old, it's the
holiday season, you're my
favorite uncle, so why do you
stroke my breast and cradle my

me too.

in high school, everyone's doing
it, it's not a big deal.
you're such a prude, why can't
you just send me a nude?

me too.

in college, you convinced me
i'm mature enough, i'm old enough,
so why did i feel so terrified to say
no? why did i cover my eyes and bite
my tongue?

Vague, but there. It's enough. Over two decades, multiple men, one survivor.
Britney Lyn Sep 9

I still love you.
But only in my dreams do you truly love me back.

Please, if you haunt me dreams do not wake me. I cannot face the reality of us.

Feeling rather off lately.
Must be time to stretch my wings.
Flutter up, and out,
above ordinary things.
I feel a chill in the air, and a feeling- that familiar glare,
of red and orange bokeh lights on the freeway,
dusty clouds over head,
waking up under the overpass of your love,
and the heart beat that
beats ahead,
ahead of the others,
ahead of the crowd,
it whispers, "Stand up straight,
don't slouch, speak up loud.
Throw off the familiar,
shake off the cloud,
run with the leopards and
leap with the deer,
unbind your icy feet,
and crush the new year."

-Dm 2017

Feeling restless again. I hate feeling like I am living the same day/week/year over and over.
Apollo Hayden Aug 15

Like neo in the matrix-
hand up, palm out to stop the bullets being sent my way.
In mid air, inspecting and reconfirming with self, seeing this for what it truly is.
Some stay comfortably asleep, always revealing their true selves when you're seeking knowledge of self;
the agents of the matrix tryna sabotage and block the progress.
Still plugged in, believing the lies of this manufactured world.
Speaking through harmonic tones from one of the four chambers of the heart,
planting seeds in the ears of those who choose to hear, always hitting the mark.
It's the
poetic mystic,
swimming in the subconscious whirlpool created by two fishes;
two eyes closed and one open in triple black darkness, letting intuition lead,
In tune with the feminine energy, listening attentively.
With the Oracle I speak deep within my dreams,
fighting to recover forgotten history while they wishing that I would just shutup and go back to sleep,
but this soul burns with a desire to seek truth and so I continue to seek.

Brett Palmero Aug 10

I don't have to live in my dreams
When I can make them a reality

All it takes
Is getting up

And telling yourself
I choose to be happy

I'm low on energy
But I've got fire in my heart
I want to wake up from this sleep
My head is filled with water

The fire can't reach my mind because my head is filled with water. It stays below in my heart and has dimmed. It needs oxygen so it can grow and evaporate the water. The water makes me feel heavy, low on energy, and in a fog.
Hannah Jun 19

Medicate a generation,
So no one wakes up or asks any questions;
I'll take the pills because the truth doesn't make this worth living,
and I'll take the drugs because I'm tired of living a lie.

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