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Once Upon I, the warrior skeletal
the eternal darkness
descended
with cracked laughter echoing
serendipity exploding
and unfolding  erase(s)
the expanse of nightfall,
those connected before
redemption,
rustic austerity
peace
for she
dreaming forlorn
liberated
by the sword
sine qua non
I am curious to see what 5 or ten or 100 Hello Poets can create. I will start this poem with one word. If you would like to contribute to it, write a comment, in parenthesis write ( one word )  to add to this community poem. I will then edit the poem and add your word to it. Only one word per comment , but feel free to comment as much as you would like. Prepositions words like (a, as, the, or, by ...etc) do not count as a word in adding to this poem, If I would like to add "free", and it would not work in the poem , "as free"- would count as one word.
Conversation overloaded
psychopathic episode
Choke me till I learn to die
Yet to die is to live a lie
Swords and knives cut me deep
But my stature I still keep
Words so mighty are all that hurt
Rub them in my face like dirt
Cut me till my tears run dry
Sing me a broken lullaby
Demons rise angels fall
I try so hard to forget it all
Broken dreams rise from the dead
Broken promises stuck in my head
I will not cry I will not brake
My broken heart you shall not take
Beat me till I learn to listen
Still in my eyes you glow and glisten
You're not better then any one
Just because you hold a gun
Choke me cut me beat me down
Yet shoot me and I'll always be around
Forever written on your heart
Bitter memories taste so ****
I said that you would regret
Now you will never forget
My name is written on your skin
Blood on your hands as proof of sin
Your fingers pull at shower-soft hair
Getting longer but not too long
Your eyes are dry but so is your tongue
Because you can’t find it in you to cry

Your chest is tight but it’s not the shirt you wear
It’s your ribs closing in on your lungs.
Your insides are crushed beneath the weight of their words
Pronouns buried like landmines beneath your skin
There’s a sickness inside you
Gnawing on your bones
Black tar sticky in your stomach
A violence pressing against your organs

You’ll feel better when you’ve changed your body
When your voice is deep and there’s hair on your jaw
You can take your shirt off at the beach
And flirt with girls at the coffee shop

Until then there’s no one who can understand
No one to get why you stand before the mirror
Running your hands over your flattened chest
Or practice walking like there’s something between your legs

No one asks why you’re not happy with cancer
Because no one is happy with cancer
But no one understands that your dysphoria
Is a sickness
And its terminal
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