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 Nov 2017 Deana M
Gabriel burnS
“save the trees”, it says
on the sheets of paper
made out of their death
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Gabriel burnS
The Sun is growing distant
The Earth is turning in her bed
Waking up in an instant
With her nightgown
White in the cold
Opting to sleep it through
And dream herself up, green
And breathe proximity, serene
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Gabriel burnS
you left me cold
like a long burned-out
chunk of coal
I stopped glittering
because I knew
that I was not of gold
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Gabriel burnS
My amputee heart
Recognized its long lost
Severed limb
A recurring phantom
Of a feeling
Naturally grown
Excised at its ripe
That you were the root
And the blossom
The marrow of the joint

How come... so well preserved...
Frozen? For so long.
Perhaps it still demands
To serve a purpose
One that hasn’t coped
With moving on
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Ryan Holden
Walk through the sands of
Time, taste the desert air and
Drink my soul to live.
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Ryan Holden
We leapt over the
River, with nothing but a
Spring in our step.
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Etelith
3 am
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Etelith
Years ago, 3 am is the time where she's in her deep sleep. Everything seems peaceful and quiet, maybe she was dreaming about something good so it made her sleep with a slightly up-curved mouth.

Months ago, 3 am is the time where she tossing and turning in her bed. Maybe she was dreaming about something bad that's why she even frown although in her sleep.

Weeks ago, 3 am she was not in her bed, instead, she was dancing in a crowd, drinking with her so-called friends. Trying to fit in them, so she wouldn't feel lonely or being left out.

Days ago, 3 am she was back in her bed, hands over her mouth so she doesn't cry sound, tears flowing down her cheeks and she asked herself "what's wrong with me" but only the silences in the room replied her

Hours ago, 3 am she was laying on her bed gazing out the window. The desolate look on her face broke my heart. Still, she looks peace and quiet. But I know, her heart and mind are going through the same war over and over again.

Now it's 3 in the night,
she was sitting on her bed, missing the old her.


*I kinda miss the old me
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Etelith
Knife
 Nov 2017 Deana M
Etelith
The light is bright and sharp,
Like the love I gave to you,
bright but sharp,
sharp like a knife,
but I never hurt you,
so I always cut myself in the end.
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