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  Oct 2016 Taki Kumiko
Robin Dunlop
I am a prisoner,
without being confined.
I am a hostage,
Within my own mind.
No walls or wires,
No bricks to detain.
No bars or cuffs,
But still I'm in chains.
Thoughts of you,
Grip me tight.
Throughout the day,
Throughout the night.
I'm in solitary,
Alone as I wonder,
This punishment
I'm under.
You're not my punisher,
But rather my light.
Am I wrong,
Or am I right?
Are you my letter?
My glimpse of home?
Or just a dream,
Inside this dome?
I'm being held captive,
Inside my head.
My mind is racing,
But heavy as lead.
I wait for my freedom.
It's fleeting at best.
Only when you're near,
Is this prison at rest.
  Oct 2016 Taki Kumiko
Robin Dunlop
She walks upon the glass
Forced to maintain a smile,
With the spectators on the sidelines
Chanting mile after mile.

Every step grows
More painful than the last.
Her soul slowly draining
Through the wounds of her past.

Nobody ever told her
The road was paved with glass.
All they ever said was,
"This too shall pass."

That's not a fair warning
And she's too far to turn back.
So she just continues to bleed
Letting her heart turn black.
For my daughter and all of those that suffer from depression.
  Oct 2016 Taki Kumiko
curlygirl
the hardest
part of
letting someone
you love
go is
making yourself
stay away
  Oct 2016 Taki Kumiko
Sara Teasdale
Atoms as old as stars,
Mutation on mutation,
Millions and millions of cells
Dividing yet still the same,
From air and changing earth,
From ancient Eastern rivers,
From turquoise tropic seas,
Unto myself I came.

My spirit like my flesh
Sprang from a thousand sources,
From cave-man, hunter and shepherd,
From Karnak, Cyprus, Rome;
The living thoughts in me
Spring from dead men and women,
Forgotten time out of mind
And many as bubbles of foam.

Here for a moment’s space
Into the light out of darkness,
I come and they come with me
Finding words with my breath;
From the wisdom of many life-times
I hear them cry: “Forever
Seek for Beauty, she only
Fights with man against Death!”
  Oct 2016 Taki Kumiko
Keen
This will be the last
and I promise you
That I'll stop writing about you,
Ever again.

This will be the last
That I'll remember you
That I'll remember us
Us, that did not last.

This will be the last
and I know we will be okay
It's not that much
But, *thank you and goodbye.
- 10102016
  Oct 2016 Taki Kumiko
Chase Anthony
For a long time, I’ve had a fear of writing poetry.
A weird fear, I know.
But when you’re as self-conscious, anxious, and self-deprecating as me, you’ll find that it’s hard to voice… just about anything.
You see, I would never raise my hand in class, because what if I was wrong?
I would never sign up for weights, because what if I’m not that strong?
That pretty girl in class? Don’t even dream about it.
If you ask for her number, she’ll leave you without it.
She’ll think you’re weird, creepy, or even ugly.
That is why I stayed away from poetry.

What if what I have to say is not all that important?
What if what I write is bad, boring, or people find it abhorrent?

So I stayed away from it.

I kept everything I wanted to say bottled up inside.
Until one day, I sat.
And I cried.
I wondered to myself
What went wrong in my life?
Why am I the way I am?
How can I fix myself?
What is my plan?


It all started with typing.
And even though I’m still an anxious wreck
Aren’t you reading my writing?
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