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James Floss Jan 13
“It’s fraught,” he said.
BOOM! Wrong pronoun
They would disapprove

“We should…”
BOOM! Not us…
BOOM! Not me!

They them us
He she we
I myself me

Redefined reassign
People can change
In an instant or a lifetime

Language evolves
Evolution is slow
Give it time to grow
sandra wyllie Jan 21
Easier for you to turn another page.
She drinks down her rage.
Easier for you not to hear her screams.
She lives in her dreams.

Easier for you at the end of the day.
She goes her own way.
Easier for you when you don't yield.
She walks in a minefield.

Easier for you to say she's doing better.
She can't pay her debtor.
Easier for you to live your cushy life.
She  only knows strife.
Janelle Tanguin Jul 2018
what was once a galaxy
has become a minefield
of massive black holes,
and all our rocket ships
have crash landed
without taking us home.

lost dreams of flying,
mechanical wings,
intergalactic suffocation,
stars in glass jars
as souvenirs
just in case we got close
to the moon.

we took off as one,
our faulty parts disintegrating
upon reaching the exosphere.
turbulence, then nothingness,
a lack of closure,
and gravity
working in reverse.
(old previously unpublished drafts making their way here)
James Khan Oct 2018
love, overt vertigo,
Gommorah Ahriman mandingo gobblejobs,
(Steeeve!)
obstetric Richelieu eugenics, ICS:
Integrated-Communication-System
(ice-cream sandwich)

Merovech echelon Elon Musk skatepark,
Ark-of-the-Covenant antipodean aneurism,
Smirnoff offense semolina, inconsistent, tentative Vedic *******,

love love (luv lurv) love
pity pity (pretty pithy) pity
war war (wore well) war

Orwellian angina nacre creates Tesla slander,
derisive vermicelli lit: Italian-style,
lest-we-forget Gethsemane minefield,
eldritch charnel-pit pitiful fulcrum,
rumble-in-the-jungle gleeful ululations-

awimaweh

the Li-On (battery and assault) sleeps tonight.
JM Sutherland Aug 2018
I wish I could navigate the minefield of my mind
Its corners dark and undefined.
One step too far, it all explodes
It explodes, my being erodes.
I walk through slowly with a hopeful face
Behind me, anxiety soon gives chase.

Anxiety stabs me, sanity's scorcher
And as I weep, I'm ****** to self torture.
Cut in the heart by worries future to past
I'm paralyzed to think this day is my last.
I break the mirror, shouting at my appearance
Meandering in camouflage is my only clearance.

I'm comforted by brief moments of peace
But it's back to the minefield as those cease.
I sit and smile as I amputate
In this personal **** I create.
And I shudder to think of an eternity bound
To this forsaken battleground.
Sonia Thomas Nov 2018
There are days that my heart can't take how much pain women are having to carry in their hearts all the **** time. We hold the scars close, digging at them behind closed doors and discussing it in hushed tones.

Our homes are not ours. They're a minefield of memories we'd rather bury with our own walking carcasses.

Then maybe, we'll set ourselves on fire in the hope that maybe, just maybe, we'll be respected in death like Sati.

And then they'll say, "What a brave life she led!"

Or maybe something to the effect of, "Maybe we should have heard her screaming before she even walked into the pyre."

— The End —