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Isobel G Jan 2011
Maybe I'll just bleed,
For a moment,
So the pain will be,
Somewhere visable
©Nicola-Isobel H.     14.01.2011
basic happiness Jul 2014
The park sits in the middle of a bustling city
The skyline visable all around.
There are large oak trees scattered about
And winding paths hug the ground.
A gentle breeze pushes the soft grass
Back and forth with effortless might.
The sunlight pushes its way past the leaves of trees
Creating dappled, swaying light.
This is the city park, where children come to play
Tag and other mischevious games.
Their laughter almost drowns out the hard sound
That of a bustling city rightfully claim.
jeffrey robin Aug 2010
behind barricades

before the red bandanna  meant you were a Crip or Blood

undaunted, refusing to be
..........intimidated

nameless
.....(known only
to
..........................YOUR LOVE
as  "love")

the streets are red with the ******
dreams our youth  is bleeding
on these streets
but then  the gangs recieved from the c.i.a.
control over the drug trade
and killed us all
-----

(behind barricades)

the liars are everywhere and those most visable
are
the greatest of the liars

speaking softly sanely

to you all................
.....................in
words-
impossible
--

love is a powerful feeling

only love

means a thing
Erica Statham Jan 2011
The Sister
pushing pram, playing
face ever changing, as she grows.

The Father
drinking tea, swaying
blurring the edges of his woes.

The Mother
going out, sneaking
looking over shoulder, as she goes.

The Brother
behind bars, crying.
Only Mum visits, everyone knows.

The Child
Safe, soundly sleeping.
Sweetpea visable, until it first snows.
© Erica Statham 9th January 2011
Chalsey Wilder May 2017
It burned,
Worse than a diagnosal disease
Why did you have to do this to me?
I remember the spark of life in your eyes as you were choking me
Convincing me, it was a part of a dream that would not repeat
After the second time
After the third time
After the fourth time using your hands to paint me black and blue with your anguish
I could not be coaxed by your convention with my eyes swollen nearly shut and only red and bright stars were visable
You cannot buy my heart to break my spirit,
You cannot break my spirit and think buying my heart will heal it
While you're trying to **** it
I got out because I willed it
I still feel the anguish you painted on me
The black and blue went deeper than my skin
Deeper than my thoughts, it has painted my subconscious
Tamara Stoffels Mar 2014
That I'll never feel again, that the numbness I've enbalmed myself in might never wash off.

That I'll never find a place where I belong, that I'll always be an outcast, an outlier.

That I'm too different, that people will never be able to accept both me and my endless flaws.

That I'll never extinguish the fire of bitterness and regret that burns endlessly in my hardened heart.

That I'll never be articulate again, that one day my witty words will fail me and my blundering words will completely take over.

That I'll never feel confidence, that I'll never be able to look past my exterior, my vessel.

That I'll never feel the warm light of affection and love, that the clouds of poisonous lonliness will consume me with fatal lesions that seep out scorn and desperation.

That I'll never be able to forgive, that I'll never be able to forget. That my decisions will haunt my psyche forever, ever present.

That I'll always be mediocre, that I'll always settle.

That I'll always be misunderstood and mistreated. That I'll never be some-ones perfect fit.

That I'll always hide behind cynisim and sarcasm. That my sharp blunt words will come back to tear at me.

That I'll always be this way.

I'm worried that life has broken me in ways that are irrepairable.

I'm worried that I will remain this way. Damaged, insecure and broken.

Yes, wounds tend to heal. But what happens when you are ruined inside and out?

Not in a dramatic way, in an honest way. Visable scars cover me.

I'm worried that the marks, ****** cuts and scabbing blemishes will be my albatross and that it will consume me.

I'm worried.
Mikey Pooler Jan 2016
It’s a shame to me,

to witness what’s become of the culture that raised me.

We’re sold on what was preached as good advice.

“Shoot for the moon because even If you miss, you’ll be amongst the stars.”

But see I feel that statement could use some clarification.

Our eyes glisten from the brightness of the so ever infinite beauty,

but what if I told you that beauty was the cause of my pain?

What if I told you that the real moon's right here on planet earth?

There’s 7 billion galaxies right in front of us, going unseen.

What If I told you the term “Shoot for the moon”,

really meant shoot for someone’s heart,

not the one that reigns above us from afar?

There’s the most beautiful galaxy,

nestled beneath the skin of someone

who’s so lost they don’t sleep.

The stars within are cloaked

by the clouds of their depression, Also insecurities.

Waiting to be the butterflies that dance to the rhythm of your heartbeat,

waiting to be your favorite twinkle in her eyes.

Waiting to show you a new color you notice when she smiles and,

that will be your new favorite color.

So If we’ve lost sight of the galaxies within our life,

all because they weren’t visable as hope in the dark night sky.

How long until we lose sight to those too?
Like the visable poeticness
scattered all around us -
there is so much hidden beauty
infront of our eyes,

Only few seem to see it all,
others fail to see any of it at all--they walk
as though they are hypnotised.

She is so many
of these beautiful things,
seen by few, invisible to so many,

Priceless--worth a fortune to few,
To others, worthless--worth only
a single penny.

She is like the stubborn raindrops
left behind on a window
after the rain,

She is that song
that you resonate with,
touching a chord
as it hits your heart,
after pumping through
your every vein.

She is the bright rainbow
covering up a scary storm -

She is still able to smile
after extremely bad weather,
she has had this strength
ever since she was born.

She is the hopeful sunrise
following a long, dark,
dreadful night,

A serene calm ocean,
a heavenly magical horizon
that you are lucky enough to catch
in your sight.

She is the much needed umbrella
that pops up and keeps you dry,

She is your wings, unseen,
but she carries you ever so high -
she is the reason why you can fly.

She is so many special things
that so many fail to recognise
and see,

Not being appreciated
does not mean
that she isn't everything
that she knows to be.

She is the delicate butterfly
that came from nowhere,

The precious tainted one
that struggled so hard
and survived to be there.

She is often misunderstood,
sometimes she doesn't even exist,

But she knows her worth -
with the unconditional love from God,
her children, and her man,
she will continue to persist.

She is so many special things
that so many fail to recognise
and see,

She is unique -
she is unlike anyone,
deep down she is very proud
that she is "She!"

By Lady R.F ©2017
Storm Raven Jul 2015
Tell me what you see?
Tell me what you think?
I am like a piece of art in a museum.
Visable for everyone.
But only a few people can see what I truely mean.
I am like a book in the bookstore.
Everyone can see me but covers can be misleading.
Only one will get to read me.
Find the true me.
See my deepest secrets.
My darkest fears.
My hopes, my dreams, my everything.
I am like the rain.
Some people will only get wet.
Others will feel me falling on their skin.
This are the people I want to live with.
But they scare me too.
I am a poem.
Everyone can read me.
But only a few can read between the lines and see what I truely mean.
And I would love to meet someone who feels me like that.
But it scares me.
My true self being visable.
Vunerable.
All my fears, dreams, secrets, hopes open to see.
But I am ready.
Ready to show, to share.
So please take a look.
Maybe you are the one who sees me.
about a friend or lover, someone who understands and truely sees
Gary Dec 2014
We were once mountains
Standing tall, standing proud.
Mountains of great girth and of great pride.
We were once, the top of this world.
Landmarks, conquest, tourist attractions.
We were once as tall as the clouds.
And where safety , for the Eagles home.
We were once.

We were once, great boulders of strength and of size.
We were once great boulders hanging on for life.
We were once in the mids of this world.
Added beauty and charm to the mountains side.
Became steps to help others achieve their  goals, became hidding spots for smaller animals to hid from their prey.
We were once great boulders.
Relatable, reachable and visable.
We were once.

We were once rocks, that have fallen from the highest of peaks.
Rocks that have been broken, slammed, stepped on to help you achieve.
Rocks that made up the lower grounds of a stream.
Planted, stacked and buried
As a bridge for your feet,
To keep you dry.
We were once rocks.
Used as a grip for your boots, to keep you safe.
As a path to guide you, to all that you achieve.
As caverns for the minnow and his family.
As a safe haven from the piranha.
We were once.

We were once dust
The wearing,
the fragile truth.
Looked upon as not a thing.
We were once.
We are once.
Once
We are all dust.
Once,
We are all the beginning.
Once,
We are all,  the foundation.
Once,
We can see, we are all needed
Once,
We can hear, we are all our own strength.
Once we accept,  all for who they are, all of what we can be.
Once,
We see truth and strength
In unity.
All is just as import to building a powerful mountain.
Once,
All this,
Then, this rocks dust can rebuild
His majestics mountain of strength.
Eloi Jun 2016
Cold hearted,
Iced blood,
These feelings of pain, come in like a flood.

Blue veins,
****** lips,
Take some more pills, go for a kip.

Visable rib cage,
Hunched back,
Skin and bones,
Smoke some crack.

Black eyes,
Bruised lies,
Smoking in chains to pass the time.

Winter comes,
Cold and ******,
I sit here alone,
Waiting for you to come home.


Christmas arrives,
I wonder why,
You had to leave,
And no longer breathe.

So, I'll stay in bed all day,
Put the gifts away,
And remember the day,
That you said you'd stay.
Jazzy Loveless Feb 2014
The world shatters in a million brilliant pieces.
His footsteps echo on the floor
but I can see his strong frame no more.
Blackness is the only thing visable
and I ***** blindly for the exit of this broken place.
My fingertips brush against a wall
my feet follow the path.
It's a circular world with no way out
I'm trapped!
My feet fumble awkwardly and I stumble and fall
and lay defeated on the ground.
Images of him
laughing,
smiling,
loving me, race through my mind like a waterfall
drowing me.
I begin to choke on bitter tears.
I can't breathe anymore.
The blackness is closing in.
Slowly my body bends and I give in.

Gasping and covered in sweat,
my body trembles, my heart beats frantically.
I'm surrounded in the darkness caused by light
but he didn't truly leave tonight.
It was just a dream...
Eloi Aug 2016
Cold hearted,
Iced blood,
These feelings of pain, come in like a flood.

Blue veins,
****** lips,
Take some more pills, go for a kip.

Visable rib cage,
Hunched back,
Skin and bones,
Smoke some crack.

Black eyes,
Bruised lies,
Smoking in chains to pass the time.

Winter comes,
Cold and ******,
I sit here alone,
Waiting for you to come home.


Christmas arrives,
I wonder why,
You had to leave,
And no longer breathe.

So, I'll stay in bed all day,
Put the gifts away,
And remember the day,
That you said you'd stay.
Kasaundra Watta May 2010
living in the tention
of a life no one with ever understand
going through things people would never imagine
hearing voices no one else can hear
living somewhere i dont belong
but facing the fact that i'll never fit in
to be a family of friends
attached at the hip
knowing that we're no where near the end of the journey
yet watching it all fade away before your very eyes
watching yourself fade from the picture of life
fading, fading, fading
into the background wih no intention of ever being seen
in this world again
blinded from the bright light you one day intend to follow
down the dark path with no visable stop
into a innocent black hole
leading to what you fear most
alive in your own heart
but dead to the human mind
Inspired by that feeling of invisablilty<3
Ash Jan 2012
i cut
i cut to feel
to try nd see whats real
they tell me not to
one day ill go to far
and itll be the end of me
but i push it away
at times it doesnt matter if i die or not
because i cut
to feel something
anything
as the blade slides across my pale skin
the blood slowly comes to the surface
ive been doing this for so long
i know the tricks
to keep others away
but i always told someone
tonight i dont
sufer on my own
let my arm bleed
feel the blood drain
i keep going
more then before
my arm isnt visable
just the sticky red juice
dripping slowly down
my need isnt done
i keep going
soon i feel light headed
then i start to lose feeling
in starts in my figures and toes
i keep going
still cutting
im not sure ill ever stop
my hand can no longer hold the blade
my sweet friendly blade
thats always there for me
tonight will see the last of me
hes the only one i want to see
a lonely tear falls down my face
i didnt have time to change this
i wouldnt if i could
tonight i can no longer feel anything
im almost gone
and still nothing
i just dont care
i say my goodbyes...
everyone left me long ago
everyone but my friendly blade
so goodbye dear friend
you have done your job
ill leave this cold dead world thinking
dreaming
of you
ms Oct 2016
you're in my rear view mirror, just barely visable.

with the one i care about in the passenger seat, with their caring words and warm heart.

i don't need to see if you're chasing after me anymore.
Jonas Feb 2021
I'm looking for Meaning
for answers to the questions blurry in my mind
visable through my screaming heart
my aching chest
the hole in the middle
where my soul ought to be
fighting for room, fighting for breath
;
I'm looking for Love
whatever that is supposed to be
a gift, a curse, a savior
responsibility
freedom of me
try not to run away
at first sight
;
I'm looking for Death
for it is a choice
but binding by nature
unavoidable
face it
accept or despair
one can not wander in a painting
without minding the frame
;
I'm looking for Purpose
for me to face myself
in no mirror
you weak, fragile, useless being
find your use
don't be to ******* yourself
they say
;
I'm looking for many things in Life
yet do not open the door
I am scared
live to die another day
in my bedroom
get out
;
one step at a time
It's natural to be scared
that's how you become brave.
Eloi Aug 2016
Cold hearted,
Iced blood,
These feelings of pain, come in like a flood.

Blue veins,
****** lips,
Take some more pills, go for a kip.

Visable rib cage,
Hunched back,
Skin and bones,
Smoke some crack.

Black eyes,
Bruised lies,
Smoking in chains to pass the time.

Winter comes,
Cold and ******,
I sit here alone,
Waiting for you to come home.


Christmas arrives,
I wonder why,
You had to leave,
And no longer breathe.

So, I'll stay in bed all day,
Put the gifts away,
And remember the day,
That you said you'd stay.
Kathleen Jan 2021
In a new land I await
The moon is always visable
Yet it is not dark
There are no shadows
No sounds disturbs this tranquil land
I walk alone and feel no pain
I leave no footsteps inthe sand
There is no sun
I feel no cold
I am where I began
Naya Feb 2019
A visable beam of light,
gleaming through the darkest of clouds and down into the bay

A beautiful sight ahead of us,
forever engraved

A moon so large, I can draw the happiest face
All I can do is inhale the cold breeze and smile at the sky
Then I softy say,
I am truly thankful for this feeling,
as the sky is my only ceiling
And in this moment,

I am more than just alive
Aimée Jan 2023
New Year, but no new you

Just be the same you

Who fails and tries again
'Till your face is blue

Because the year will come that
You see that you’re better than new

You'll be a diamond, no rough
Your worth, finally, in full view
A little bit better is how the world is changed
Hadrian Veska Jun 2016
My journey took me
Across the sea
In a merchant ship
Bearing exotic spices

I chose this vessel
Because it was the only one
That would cross the deep waters
Off the dull grey coast

My pilgrimage would be shortened
Almost an entire week
Simply by taking this route
And not pathing around

All of the present crew
Had sailed these waters before
But by the fourth day or so
I noticed many of them were uneasy

They moved strangely about the ship
Staying closer to the center
As if trying to avoid
Gazing out at the water

Curiosity getting the better of me
I walked up to the wooden railing
And peered over the edge
Into the deep waters

To my surpise it was crystal clear
And I could see straight through
The refracted sunlight
Dancing on the ocean floor

Then something caught my eye
Deep sunken blocks
Covered in algae
That must not have been natural

Sailing on I noticed these blocks
Forming walls and broken structures
Sitting solemn and untouched
Beneath the crystal waves

We passed a large trench
Amd after we did
I saw what must have been
An ancient city on the ocean bed

Great towers and minarets
Rose from the ocean floor
Even the streets and houses
Where visable from the surface

My attention turned to a courtyard
Or at least what I thought to be one
That sat directly in the center
Of that long sunken place

And in the center of that courtyard
Was a strange sort of obelisk
Upon further investigation
I saw something chained to it

Passing over the city
I could hardly make out the thing
That I saw chained to the pillar
But I thought to myself

That it must have been a person
Imprisoned there some millenia ago
What catastrophe they committed
Was anyone's guess

Nothing now remained of them
But algae encrusted bones
Their jaw broken and mangled
Inhabited by tentacled creatures

Straining to see the figure
Before we were beyond it
I though I saw the  skeleton move
Twisting its head in my direction

With a gaping twisted jaw
Did the old bones speak
Though I was not sure
If anyone else could hear it

I shook my head and rubbed my eyes
To get rid of the feeling
Left in me by its words
After I did I looked back in astonishment

The waters we sailed over
Were now murky and green
Nothing like the clear waters
I had seen only moments before

I asked one of the sailors
If we had steered off course
Or if the water changed
In this part of the sea

He promptly replied no
Saying we were right on course
And the water was always murky
In the Turn-Tide sea
betterdays Mar 2017
seven.
it was at this point
I started running
because there was no way
three more numbers
were going to get
his temper/ rage
back into the box

eleven
that was the age
that I learnt the effect
of a fast moving patella
aimed at a *******

twenty nine
the number if times
that story has been told

forty three
that's  where he caught up
with me with a crash tackle
splitting his lip and my eyebrow
in the completion of it

thirty two
the number of stitches we got
me 14, him 18

fourteen
the number if days
we where grounded
no tv, no visitors

five
the times
I have used
that manoeuvre
since then

two
the visable scars
we still have.....
the first time I kneed my brother in the groin......
jo forstrom Mar 2014
Anger is a fools way of displaying things so true about what he is all about but not in a quiet way.

19. Color me says me to you
And you stand there staring away at me as though you hardly know what to do or say
And then you pick up a crayon and you toss it away,
""for see says He,
You have no color
for you are just only you."

20. A man approached a door,
And upon the door a sign read leave all of your values inside this box that I have sat here for you,
And he reached into his pockets and they were all empty and He did not know what to do,
And the door opened and a voice said, "welcome,
come on in."

21. Once there was a tree,
but it had no branches visable to the human eye
And so,
Along came the wood cutter and he proceeded to take out his ax
and wham,
down it came.
jo.
Sam Dec 2016
Shoved to the ground,
Elbow to the arm,
Ball to the face.
Visable bruises form, sore to the touch.

Screaming through the wall,
Ignorance of the people,
Suffication of the culprit.
Mental bruises form, sore to the mind.
Selena Irulan Oct 2013
What is only in our heads can be more powerful than what is visable outside our minds
And what is born from out imagination is more powerful than what is born in our eyes
Lynn Hamilton Oct 2019
A
Construction

Without
A

Key

Door
Is
Visable

Through
Foundations

Dug
Deep

Concreted

Trowel
Brick, mortar, brick, mortar

Center
Offline

Too
Tired

To
Reconsider

Over
Time

Unlocking
Without

A key
Phoenix May 2018
Im sorry i push
Im sorry i build walls
Im sorry i snap
Im sorry my moods swing

Everything is blown up
Everything is warped
Everything is twisted
A small problem to you
Is a tower ready to crush me

You wont understand
I know that
But dont get frustrated
Because i know

I know im being ridiculous
I know im being illogical
I know im being dramatic
I know im being exaggerated

I know

Yet i cant help it
Im trying like hell
Im working really hard
Im fighting through it
Im working on chipping at the tower
So it doesnt crush me

Normal things to you
Like school and work and a social life
It blurs together for me
It molds and warps into an ocean
An ocean of rough seas and deep water

In the simplest problem
I drown
I sink to the bottom like a stone is at my ankle

I sink so deep that i can barely see the surface
The end or solution of the problem is only visable through moving water
So i cant tell
I cant see
I can't focus

When i concentrate really hard
I can see it
I know how to fix it
I know what to do
But then it gets blurry again
The waves wash over me once more
And im alone
Drowning in the depths of anxiety
Completely alone because no one can hear me cry
No one can feel the burn in my lungs as i gasp for air
No one can hear the muddled and clustered thoughts that crash in my head

Im drowning
Im drowning and i know how to fix it
But its really hard for me
You say its simple
But to me, its not
Its like swimming in a rough ocean
With a rock tied to my ankle

So im sorry
Im sorry im not strong
Im sorry i exaggerate
Im sorry i dramatize
Im sorry im over the top
Im sorry i cant fix it
Im sorry im not good at this
Im sorry i havent gotten it quite

Im working on it
Im fighting
Im swimming
Im climbing
Im doing whatever it takes to be on top with you
Because i love you
And I want to be with you
Kate Feb 2018
A well known, "hole in the wall," kind of place. The thin door is my only separation from the outside world. The traffic that can be heard never ceases, at least not for long. 
Common drapery, common commodities, colors of common upon the walls slowly become more visable with the sun's new again arrival and the chattering amongst those nearby awakens. 
The sun now lazily ascends atop the horizons and with it, the induction of life again as it's a brand new day. 
Consistent commotion and shuffling to and fro, in and out, serve almost as if an invitation or reminder that my participation and appearance are now due. 
Though repetitive and much more common than, "just so," my seclusion inside these walls allows an almost comforting confinement, my own solitude and oneness. 
If only these walls could talk - adventures and misadventures alike would likely be told of the passers through here... but this simple, square room has never a story to tell nor a word to utter. Instead, a mere stripping and changing of linens and an always anticipated arrival for the next brief possessor of it's common adoption

— The End —