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Nobody Jul 2017
Don't stumble, forget to hide.
Don’t bring them down,
don’t make them cry.
Once they hear,
they’ll need reasons why.

I know you didn’t ask for this,
stop sounding so sad.
We said we love you,
you're not happy about that?

You just sit alone in here,
dwelling on silly fears;
no we won’t sit with you,
but it doesn’t mean we don’t care.

Sorry this burden is yours,
you can try and bleed it away;
but there is no escape,
this is how you were made.
Cynthia Aug 2018
You dig a hole in the ground
You keep digging deep down
So the echo won’t slip
because your goal is to scream
Scream loud
to ease the pain inside
 
The dirt on your hands
is the hurt, the pain
You’ve been carrying around
Somehow you kept holding on
now freedom is what you seek

Fading memories is your dream
But what happens after you scream?

You have been carrying this weight
on your feet
feeling the heat
Blood flowing through your veins

Love turned into hate & trust into fear
So after all are you really at PEACE?

Then…
The battle with your mind begins
Because digging is no longer your escape
Your own fear has captured you in a cage
 
So you write it down on paper
Not in pencil but in pen
Because there are no mistakes
That can be erased
What’s done is done
And your shame cannot be wiped away
 
Once again you fight in the flesh
all you want is peace
And a resting place
Yet you seek no one but yourself.
Have no fear for He is with you
Seek Jesus let him be your escape
The one who fulfills that empty SPACE!
Bryan Lunsford Sep 2018
Your beauty
Is that of my artistic escape,
As I could sculpt,
Write,
And paint my life away,
But your beauty
I could never properly
replicate
ryn Oct 2014
Escape pods*
Ferried fears
  Gaping heart
   Falling tears
    Dishevelled mind
     Emotional unrest
    Watered ground
    Familiar guest
   Questioned answers
  Unanswered questions
  Glassy eyes
   Increased tension
    Dissipating hope
     Chewed confidence
    Broken spirit
   Unwelcomed sentence
  Failing health
Unstable mind
Choked fingers
Flying blind
 Pathetic plea
  Stretched thin
    Battered insides
     Uncomfortable skin
      Eventual stop
       Frightful frights
        Perceived freedom
         Within sight
        Bruised being
     Absent gods
    Relying upon
   *
Escape pods
Don't ask...I don't even know...
Sam Hawkins Apr 2013
What we have named Fire Escape
(an ordered, angular tangle of ladders and rail)
had made picture geometries in my west window
well-framed and flat--set foreground and background
in two dimensions, as the sun hid,
and my round eye opened.

What we have named Fire Escape
was flaked-paint brown orange, as if
first it had been born of a flame
and then had taken up living as metal--
tempered itself into usefulness,
which I should trust now, in case of the yelling
and the engines.

What we have named Fire Escape
was happy Jungle Jim or Jungle for Jane
for the sparrows I saw this morning
which flitted and wildly played
within, rising up
arched and back again.

Made of the square pairs of ladder rungs--
a tunnel entrance or ducking posts,
or highway bridges to clear;
the birds like small plane, daredevil pilots
each following each, going under.
No sparrow would ever crash.

And what is this I remember now?
How one bird eased its engine and perched there to stay?
As if to offer me, with a little turn of head gesture--
a thank you, for the bread I'd left on the sill? Or to say  
I'd better shut the curtain and make my exit?

Either prideful guess gets me nowhere fast.
Failed even is speaking in any sparrow languages
from my recline stuffed chair; again, but now imagined,
to draw beady eyes to fix on me, telling me much less.

That morning, with the very last sparrow gone,
I remember that nothing in my sight moved,
save an American flag at a distance in the wind,
with its one red-white striped wing
waving toward the cold north,
as the white church spire,
framed in open quadrilaterals,
held its position.
written and posted a few hours before the Boston Marathon Bombing, Monday April 15th, 2013
slr Oct 2018
mov•ie
\ ˈmü-vē \

noun

1.a story represented in motion pictures/motion : noun : mo·tion : \ ˈmō-shən \ : an act, process, or instance of changing place/forward, backward, up, down, pacing, running, crawling/how we flee from our lives, our problems, our responsibilities/instead of focusing on motion we look to pictures/picture : noun : pic·ture :  \ ˈpik-chər \ : a design or representation made by various means/click, zoom, import, export/our lives are on a flash drive, on a snapchat, on an instagram, on a memory card/everywhere but on our own memories/we don’t like pictures either/they show moments never to be regained from our past/our solution?/combine them into something better/movie : verb : mov·ie :  \ ˈmü-vē \ : an escape from reality/we use movies to deflect the pain of our lives/we think that we watch because we are bored/no/we watch to escape/escape : verb :  es·cape : /əˈskāp/ : a recording of moving images that tells a story and that people watch on a screen or television.
I wrote this a while back but I fell in love with dictionary poetry after it
jane taylor May 2016
enchanted fairy

land upon my windowsill

oh thou mystical

tell me there’s another realm

profer me escape

©2016janetaylor
My soul is a dark and gloomy place
It lacks all sense of beauty & grace
A room with an entrance but no escape
It takes on a small and lifeless shape.

Read more at http://www.******-in-oncology.com
Fuji Bear Aug 2016
Foreign places
Familiar faces
I remember how it started,
But how did I get here?
Coming down
On the ground
I know what's right
Yet my decision remains unclear
I need not say,
I cannot stay,
Far much longer,
Stuck this way.
I'm wasting my youth
Running from this truth
I'm becoming numb
To what my life has become.
Or is it mine at all?
It used to be.
"There's always tomorrow"
I say in the present,
Until one day soon,
There isn't.
Stay off those drugs, kids.
Atlas Jul 7
Society is a prison.
It traps you in
And steals your freedoms.
Makes you conform.
Until you are normal.

So why don't we escape?

Because we are afraid.
Afraid of being alone.
Loneliness rots the mind
It steels the heart.

We all decided
Being trapped together
Is better than to be free
Alone.
Carter Ginter Oct 2014
My stiff arms hit the metal of the door as I force it open, against
the chilled fist of wind, pounding hard upon the glass
windows and then equally upon my face and forearms. It had to be
below 50 degrees, but I had hoped that the cold could help me
feel again. Feel something. Unfortunately,
this ice only froze my fingers, leaving
my body as numb as my mind.

Later, as I rid my machine of the cloth concealment, protecting
the scars laced into my skin. The water boils as I
examine my life-lines, these battle scars, in the mirror and
can only cringe in thought of the disappointment drowning
the faces of those I care about most: their eyes
drooping down with the weight of eyebrows, creased
diagonally, half shock and the other half burning
discontentment. They purse their lips and stab my eyes
with their daggers, when I chuckle nervously.

I shake my head of these thoughts from my speculation and
step into the steam, hoping the heat could help me
feel again. However, the fire does not scorch my
body, nor incinerate the emptiness, it only slides
down the marble sculpture my body feels to be
(equivalent to the concrete barrier that builds behind my eyes)
yúyīn Jan 2017
And for that second,
The blade ripped across the surface,
tearing the flesh apart,
letting the blood run free.
I've forgotten every problem I have and had.
The pain was my escape,
and it will always be..
Sighhh
@.**
Bre Marie Sep 2016
Oh Mary Jane
  how you whisper my name.
   **** away my pain
  make me feel sane.
   Mary Jane
   Oh Mary Jane..
 Whisper my name.
.
Gabriel burnS Oct 2018
Tar
I’m not broken
I’m a puzzle not to be solved
I’m a bird of…
Preying on rain…
But the clouds elude my webs
I’m the underside of an antisocial umbrella
What with the moisture-averse lovers nowadays
I shoo them off and twist my spokes
And finally I’m no longer pretending completeness for the sake of my surroundings
Because She comes clad timeless
Comes with the thunder
And She tastes like all or nothing
Radhika Lusted Aug 2018
Down down below me
A place with no hope
Where all that can find me
Is this unwinding rope

In a place filled with darkness
We’re all trapped in the pain
From the cuts on our skin
To the thoughts in our brains

But one day in life
When we all come to die
The shadows of death
Take us into the sky

To a place where we're freed
From this life that we've shaped
And we're finally given
The chance to escape
This poem emphasies the figmentation in our brains when we are in our depression and feel almost as if we literally cannot escape.
I apologise if this upsets anyone, there is always help out there and i am always here to talk <3
There was a tiny tea light somewhat hid and tucked away
Was lost; To be forgotten in dark corners of my brain
The other day you called me breathing into it new life
A weak and dying flame now once again stood strong and bright

Tried quelling it with reason; Doused with plenty rationale
No matter what I threw at it would not leave or dispel
Use thoughts as tools or weapons; They are thrown out by the mind
Attempting to slice through the bonds to flame the heart did bind

But no where in my cognition is something quite that tough
In any way could **** that flame or from these bonds be cut
This statement even would be true the weakest of its days
But as I'm talking to you with each word you fan the flame

Was living out a lie and yet was unbeknownst to me
I thought my love for you could die if left and just let be
However, now I know too well this lasting present truth
My eyes saw you and ever since, I've been in love with you
Written: October 23, 2018

All rights reserved.
[Iambic Heptameter format]
Jonathan Witte Sep 2018
I
I stole my brother’s car and drove to Phoenix in the dark. Bluegreen glow of dashboard gauges, the faint scent of roadkill and desert marigolds. Tap. Tap. Tap. Insects slapping the windshield like rain. How many miles does it take to turn yourself around, to rise up from ashes? Keep driving. Drive until the sun blooms.

II
Some days were more dire than others. CCTV footage confirms I pawned a shotgun, a Gibson guitar, and my wife’s engagement ring at the pawnshop next to Fatty’s Tattoo parlor. The typographically accurate Declaration of Independence inscribed on my back also confirms this.

III
I ran the tilt-a-whirl at the Ashtabula county fair, fattening up on fried Oreos and elephant ears, flirting behind tent ***** with the cute contortionist with strawberry-blonde hair.

IV
I derailed in a dive bar.

V
I disappeared in a city lit by lavender streetlights, where buildings blotted out the stars and the traffic signals kept perfect time.
I picked through trash bins. I paid for love with drugstore wine.

VI
I closed my eyes on a mountain road. The sheriff extracted me from a ****** snowbank.

VII
I holed up for weeks in an oceanfront motel, dazed by the roar of the breakers. Each morning I drew back the curtains and lost myself in the crisscrossing patterns of whitecaps, the synchronous flight of sanderlings above the dunes. I dreamed of dead horseshoe ***** rolling in with the tide.

VIII
The moon over my shoulder tightened into focus like a prison spotlight. One night the barking dogs undid me. Goodnight, children. Goodbye, my love. I capitulated to the candor of a naked mattress. I grew my beard, an insomniac in a jail cell clinging to bars the color of a morning dove.

IV
I coveted the house keys of strangers.

X
I opened and closed many doors. I sang into the stoic mouths of storm drains. I stepped out of many rooms only to find myself in the room I just left. Despite all my leaving, I remained.
Laine Viv May 2014
Little girl, little girl,
crying in the middle of the night
as she tries to escape
from what's inside her mind.

Monsters clinging, clutching
her soul, dragging
memories she longed
to forget

And a girl so lost
a long  time ago
that no one searched
for her,

So perhaps
She's lost her mind,
but I think she's
just lost inside
Carter Ginter Dec 2014
You cannot exactly describe a person's laugh
to those unfortunate enough to miss it, but
when she smiles
and her eyes brighten up, rippling sapphire,
nothing else exists.
The sweet, tuneful melody escaping her lips draws
a smile onto my face, no matter what my mood.
I feel her body shake beside me, and I watch her perfect smile,
outlined with natural temptation.

While perfection may never exist,
love lies within this girl, and
to me, that love is perfect.
Her eyes reflect a better me, and in her
heartbeat, I feel a piece of myself
as we become one in each other's
arms. That embrace that always
leads the way back
to sanity and incomprehensible peace.
Prerna Singh May 31
I would be broken
Only when
I would be drowning
And would make
No attempt to
Escape
https://ofpoetsandpoems.com
Axion Prelude Dec 2014
planted seed; they let it grow
through much defeat, it’s never known
a smile's disguise seethes bated breath
my sole escape be only death
As I journey through the tracks of life, I lost my train of thought

Emotions avoiding to feel, it's closest touch of feeling, is distraught

Trapped in a whirlwind of unemotional cyclones
Feelings trapped, feelings caught

My essence seeping from my skin daily, I question of fight or flight
Decaying self worth
I fought

Dividing by zero, a bitter chaotic end, life has its lessons, I'm not listening
It comes to nought

I'm married to the darkness, a trial in error, the verdict still out
Im lost in court

A life settled in coin, casket to cross the river to the afterlife
Paid in full with despair
It's bought

I wish this train would return,
Take me with it on it's journey, let my self worth become my companion, I crave it
My escort
Emotions dead inside, I can't feel anymore, even my tears are dry.
It's like the grim reaper forsaken me, even he died.
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