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Pieces of me
thrown away
like trash
Never consulted
Never asked
The direct result
of another’s conviction
or more commonly seen
consequences
from blind ambition

Paranoid
The fix is in
But no invitation
for me,
former me
or forever me
and all of my imitations
beset by my
limitations

Forwardly I lean
step in between
lines upon lines
hidden;
can’t be seen
Falling ill
Now trapped by
its machine
And from my vein;
My blood I spill

A still surface
with sticky sheen
amber tones
from which
I glean
a reason
Thrilled
What it might mean
A hunger
that
can not be filled

Nothing but lies
giving me chills
A shell
with values
not instilled
Instead
it’s dread
Their words
I’m fed
Nutrients
to fill my head

My outer skin
Its layer
thin
Not to attacks
No single act
or prayer
could patch
and fill it in
A hole
that’s black
is my first sin

A game
in which
no way to win
and no ending
once it
begins
With opened eyes
begin to see
The dorsal fins
surrounding me

Head starts
to spin
What could have been?
It doesn't matter
in the end
because
there's nothing
here for me
A demon-like reality

Where what you seek
Placed at your feet
The icing; sweet
Choices; not three
Have cake or eat
One choice not two
But want to eat
and have it too

All efforts
to retrieve the treat;
An outcome that
ends in defeat
A princess swept
off of her feat
But this feature
princess;
a creature
Spirit of
a soulless seeker

Deceitful speaker
Flames;
he’ll eat ya
Offers pain
Can’t heal;
life drained
Then reaching out
to use
life-line
but with each ring
hope further wanes

An answered call
done just in time
The chills
running all down my spine
Stand tall
just like Douglas-fir pine
With racing thoughts
filling my mind
I will be saved
Free from it all
*** must exist
No time to stall
In battle
warriors
may fall
but no man's ever left behind

Only to find
With said spent dime
A dynamite kind of answer
-
A type
that might
cause strife
Can't plan for
Needed answer
Plight
like cancer
New chance to live
Worldly romancer
On planet Earth
A tiny dancer

A romantic thought
to think
fight fought
Instead a sinking ship
just dropped
This life?
If could
an ‘OUT’
would opt
No more
can take
Just make
it stop
Written: April 17, 2018

All rights reserved.
Twigzy Jul 2017
10th July 2017

To My Husband

As I watch your life, slipping away
We share all the things we want to say

We have time to reflect, encourage and love
To be grateful with warmth, to look beyond and above

We remember the good and laugh at the bad
And take time to listen and embrace the sad

It is a rich time, this time that we have
What has been, what is now, is what will be had

As your strength fades, and your eyes slowly dim
We look beyond the body you are in

When death approaches and your final breath taken
We know your spirit, will soar with elation

You will look at this world and say your goodbyes
And peace will take you as you pass through the sky’s

All the best for your journey
Your loving wife
My husband was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer we only had a few months to say goodby and make peace. It was the richest time of our marriage
GreenTrees May 2017
In the dry cracked walls
Behind the dry rot
Below the slithering bellies

Where the earth turns death into life.

Soothed by the warmth of decay.

Tendrils of sorrow reaching deeper

Into that place in side my soul that has died

Where I silently scream breathlessly.

Time has stopped and the hands of time cover her face
Timidly peering out,
To one day see the sun again
Nigeria, a Dying country,
Her kinsmen will gather in war to share her sweat
More troubles for the unborn and her growing heirs,
The unfolding dread non-soldiers at heart like me.

Nigeria, she spring forth from the dark soil
Her past never stop to echoe, her Iroko turned void
Blessed with milk, honey and seeds with hearts fixed to the creator,
The sword bearer of coal  war-ful gladiators.

A vineyard in the days of her reckoning
A different story after her great hair home coming.
Tale of a true black race
And the  down laying of her good moral ways.

Just like how a river side tree dries,
So does her firewood also cries.
Her genuine red caps are nowhere to be found
Her wind, her seed will have to make do with the feeble dust in character around.

Shaking is her government seat on the rock
Still steady is her opposition in their secret walls.
They keep killing her vision in disguise of trying to unlock
While they battle to pluck away all her roses.
The voiceless murmur and watch,
Her pocket papers fly and run
While a once great country keep dying on.
Daniel Ruiz Aug 21
Emotions fuels my writing,
Like gasoline fuels cars,
Like depression fueled the
Success of those good songs
That i listen to while
My mind is driving
Probably on his way towards
Thinking of you.

Do you know who I am?
Please tell me who I am,
Then I wouldn’t be so
Lost trying to find myself,
I try to find myself in other people,

I’m just a poet,
A college student
A “writer”
A person that lost an opportunity
To be with someone who cared about him,
A person that, without consent, loses friends,
Thinking it’ll be better for them,
That they don’t get to know more about me.

And as you can see,
Emotions are the raw energy that
Keeps me writing,
The same as writing keeps me sane
From these emotions that burn into my skull
As the same temperature the stars emit,
Those little flying rocks in the sky,
That without hesitation fall
From the place they find more dearest,

It’s a good thing the sun doesn’t let us
Escape his grip,
And keeps us around
So he can show the moon,
How much he cares about her.

That’s why I adore space so much,
The stars,
The fact that the light I see and adore,
Is probably a star that’s about to die,
Wishing me goodbye,

So farewell little star,
It’s a good thing,
That you can’t see my last shining moments
On this earth,

So Goodbye,
Goodbye to the constellations of dying stars,
That fueled with emotions
Shine the dark away.

Goodbye old friend,
I’ll keep observing you for a while,
Hope you still have more stories to tell.

Because I’ll keep listening,
Until my light fades away too.
Tatiana Nov 2014
I'm suffocating.
But I don't need your help,
I can handle my throat closing,
no don't call 911,
there's no reason to.

I'm choking.
But I don't need your help,
I can handle the mucus that blocks my throat,
I can spit it up just fine,
so just keep on walking.

I'm coughing.
But I don't need your help,
I can handle myself doubled over in pain,
with my chest hurting as I try to sit up straight,
so just ignore me hacking up a lung.

I'm breathing.
But I don't need your help,
I can handle hyperventilation without my inhaler,
I don't have to breathe properly to live,
so thanks for just leaving me on the floor.

I'm dying.
But I don't need your help,
it's not like I have no energy to get my inhaler,
you can totally just run out of the room panicking,
it's not like i'm scared too or anything.

I'm angry.
And for some reason,
you can't figure out why.
So leave me alone.
I'm fine now.
I can handle myself.
I don't need your help.
I'm changing the caption 4 years later because it was very angry and I don't carry that same level of anger anymore towards that person.
Except in reference to asthma
Then I'm quite angry
Asthma *****
Sky Aug 21
Pretty dying girls

It doesn’t really matter if you’re hungry
You’re not even going to eat
You aren’t a loser, you’ll win this game
It’s a game you have to defeat
It’s hot outside and you’re really cold
Your young, small body is feeling old
You feel so starved down to your soul
Keep it up honey, you’re on a roll
You want to be half but you are whole
You hate this game but you’re in control
To feel in control you must pay the price
It doesn’t cost much, just your life
No matter what, you’re always alone
It’s you and me, it’s written in stone
You’ve lost everything that you love and own
But at least you have your beautiful bones
Your body hates you but that’s okay
Everyone has left, but I’ll always stay
That was my goal all along
To make you feel guilty, to make you feel wrong
Everything I say is helpful, everything I say is the cure
You don’t want to feel disgusting, do you? Don’t you want to be pure?
Tiny, Angelic, Dainty and Delicate
Everything else is completely irrelevant
You’ll never feel shameless, you’ll be the greatest
Listen to me darling, don’t you want to be weightless?
Tired, gaunt, pointless and twisted
The girl you’ve been talking to never existed
It’s all in your head, but your head is her home
You’ve got nothing left to control, but your brittle little bones
corpser May 9
The night has been long and it has been as hot as the night before. I’ve been sweating like a pig, sick with a ******* feeling down my throat everytime i swallow my spit. I got up and tried to make myself some tea. One only remembers to drink tea when one is sick.
After squeezing the lemons in, I immediately downed a shot of the thing and felt it punch whatever it was that was swelling in my throat.
When I put it back down I noticed a single dying ant in the table. It has been separated from its colony, and must have fallen off a wall somewhere. I remember  around 5pm or 4pm the afternoon before this, that I had bugsprayed a long line of ants gathering up the kitchen. The weather hasnt been well this time of year and it has been ******* up the natural behavior of ants. The poor ******* probably thought it was going to rain. But it didnt, and the only rain that came for them was death and that rain came from me.
So I thought to myself, if this guy’s been here since 5pm he has been struggling for 10 hours and 50 minutes to live. This is one mighty ant. And giving it a closer look, the ****** was pretty huge for his size as well. It was still alive, willing itself back to existence. Beaten and bloodied but unbowed, it earned my respect.
But there was no way this ant was going to make it back to his colony. Its lower body was not functioning anymore. The only thing he has is his wits and three to four flailing arms. His body cannot contain his will and so, being the better being in the situation I had to put him down.
Squeezed the life and the fight out of him at my fingertips and flung it back to the floor where it has been its whole life.
I took another gulp from the tea I had made but there was no punch in my throat anymore. No scalding hot no stinging sting just the sewage water tasting taste of a tea that has gone cold.
I went back to bed and still the swelling devil in my throat hasnt gone. I will get no sleep tonight of that I am sure. Still, I close my eyes and pretend to sleep.
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