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Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
There's a peculiar kind of beauty that can only be experienced
with the innate knowledge that the moment is fleeting
and the most intense beauty can only be seen in
the presence of both light and shadows.
For it’s often in the loss of a thing
that its worth to us becomes
most precious and by
letting it go with
grace we can
best savor
its purest
delights.
Realizing
that the pain
runs so deep only
because the beauty ran
so deep and that without
it having once touched us we
wouldn't now know the emptiness
of its loss, our grief will eventually turn to
thankfulness that it ever touched us at all, and
we will be left awed by the mystery of its haunting.
***
lavender May 2017
she compares her sweet tooth
to that of a good long scream,
the kind where your throat hurts a little after
and your eyes water,
the type of scream where your neighbors start to wonder
if either you’ve been murdered,
or you've just had the best ****** of your life,
because it sounds just a little to pleasureful
to be the sound of of an inevitable death.
Cné Mar 2017
Dare I relinquish all control
For the sake of a story not yet told
Of **** and love
And mushy stuff
To be yours forever to unfold and thus behold?
Yikes... where did that come from...
Muted Jul 4
i long for pleasant days.
days that feel like new beginnings,
days when i feel as if i am floating,
when each and every
fiber of my being
feels content with letting go,
tying loose ends,
shedding dead skin.
when my body no longer
feels unworthy of
occupying a space in this dimension,
when my brain no longer
allows toxicity to occupy a space
within it.
i long for moments of silence.
solace for my soul,
a place for the skeletons
in my closet to
rest their dust-covered heads.
i long for happy summers.
when i no longer fear
the thought of love.
when i no longer imagine love
as an **** ****,
devouring a flower bed.
when i no longer imagine you
resting in someone else's.
Jason Drury Oct 2016
Though, should I
or have I begun?

To feel the tussling
Of blurring bodies.

Transforming and dancing,
Through these very halls.

Where aching is thick,
and a embrace is a release.

Should I begin?
How should I begin?

Swallow the dagger,
stabbing from behind.

Let it sit deep in my stomach.
Push it further, where it can’t cut.

Where will it end?
How will I begin?

Under lock and key,
Just where I left it .

It escapes as it did just now,
conjuring a puncture to bone.

Blood flows,
Rushes out into the world.

Is this a release?
How can I heal?*

Pouring out,
It tastes salty on the cheek

The color is dark,
cold to the touch.

Purging the night,
that stained blood black.

Sifting the chill,
of steel from bone.

Ringing out whats left of gore and fluid,
down the drain.

*I can begin now.
This is the end.
Lady Luna Sep 2017
Today, I caught myself thinking
"I hope you're doing well."
And I was shocked at my own thought

I am forgiving in nature,
But I never thought the day would come
where I would wish something else
besides a stubbed toe every morning,
always running out of coffee,
sleepless nights, and daymares
for you

the person who
stomped my heart,
made me feel like nothing
.

but here i was, thinking
"I hope you're doing well"
and I can't figure out if this is
my own mind playing tricks on me
or just me letting go
or just me letting growth.
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