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CK Baker Jan 2017
Thank you:
for a life not to trade
blessings, in spades
tight spaces
behind laundry doors
packed closets
and open drawers
gator tails, tarnished brass
cracks in kitchen sliding glass
wet towels, withering plants
foundation filled
with carpenter ants
buckets piled with
shoes and tags
village clothes
and saddlebags
peeling paint
and broken walls
pisser seats
in bathroom stalls
clogged pantry
frigid rooms
table scribe
and carbon fumes
comfort capsules
empty tank
broken limbs
from children’s pranks
butt finger
double tongue
long goodbyes
and sidewalk dung
cluster flies
chavie’ clique
accompanying
the hypocrite
cracked back
and hidden smiles
chalk on board
with mr miles
atomic wedgy
closing doors
wrotten eggs
and open sores
jaw jack
nasty folk
dinner calls
for pig in poke
penny pinchers
double dip
yellow mouth
and silver tip
brown nose
thick red tape
paper cuts
and pimple nape
gallivants
so out of norm
the joy of life
in basic form
Ms Noma Jul 29
I wish I could escape
This life of mine I hate
I wish that I could shape
A life with better fate

What’s the point of God?
If all he does is watch
I wonder does he nod,
Or turn up my pain a notch?

A silent, passive ghost
That’s what I’ve become
Living off a host
And withering in glum

Wake up and make some noise
I urge my ghostly self
Your life is full of choice
As long as you’ve good health

I know tis but a phase
I pray its end is near
I’m tired of this maze
That’s trapping me in fear

I know I’m in a cycle
An endless, spinning wheel
I’m afraid to take the fall
And face up to what is real.
Nigel Finn Jul 18
No more poems, thank you;
I think that I'm done.
My notebook's half empty,
And apathy's won.

Please turn off the music;
My songs are all sung.
I think the night's over,
Although it's still young.

No more words, I beg you;
Just slice off my tongue!
They're just wasted air,
From a withering lung.

I've no more left to say;
Time to blot out the sun.
My notebook's half empty,
And apathy's won.
This space to be left blank
Brooke Davis Sep 2016
S • Skin tight, skeletal cage
both ribs and mind.

K • Keep a strict diet, never break it, always hide it from those who would disapprove, so I learned to suffered in silence.

I • Internally a growl would emit, I reveled in the power I would get from it. To know I was structured, I wasnt a jumbled mess. Like the mass jiggling, clingling to this withering carcass.

N • Never could the fat girl come back out. carve her, choke her, starve her till she lost the will to shout. Shout for help, shout for freedom, shout for love in this life. Useless, everybody knows only fit people have that right.

N • Nobody would believe if I told a soul my struggle. "You are huge, big blue
whale how can someone like you have a disorder?

Y• Yell, scream "I WANT TO BE ME"
But I can't because of our society
deeming people like me are wrong,
why should my weight define wether or not I belong?

But because it does I hate myself.
I live this life with a wish to die,
all because my body is not
S•K•I•N•N•Y
Aditi Jan 13
My petals were withering,
The butterflies turned into wasps.
An oppressive silence-
Weighing down on my conscience
And the fingertips - used to drawing sunrises
-compelled  to write eulogies instead.
Of Chapped lips and vacant eyes.
And how the autumn had caught up to us.


And I remembered,
With an aching guilt-
How I had not even played in the rain,
Not much, not at all.

My words had rusted,
My voice- cracked, and unfamiliar
Even to my own ears.
The summer long poems that I wrote in love
Were set ablaze,
To help me survive a winter
without you.
Oh, when I said our love would keep us warm
This is not exactly how i had it planned.

And you did not get to read even a word.
One always thinks they have time.
But we did not.
Not then, and definitely not now.

As a child, I grew up wanting a lot from myself
-even the world, if I were to be honest.
Somewhere along the line,
All I wanted was for this all to not hurt.
And somehow the polar opposites are more alike
Than I'd have thought.
'Cause you see, people who want a bit of everything
Are very close to wanting nothing in particular, not much.

And I wish I had learnt to differentiate
Of when to sharpen my sword and when to use my pen
Cause now I'm down to my last petal
And all you have is a blue splotch on your shirt.
Umi Jul 22
Farewell, to my voice wich vanished beneath the echo of those mountains, disappearing in the far distant, out of reach
The summer sun burns through my skin, lightens up this cold heart of mine for the first ime in a very long time, but even this won't last,
Yet I have no reason to be sad, this agony is bittersweet you see,
Constant change around me, without me changing one bit, it is as if I have become stuck in some kind of loop, unable to ever advance,
What does the future hold for one who has given in to this madness?
Farewell, to all the flowers which were blooming majestically this summer, now withering over to the merciless, drought like heat,
The greensleeves of nature are to already become colourful,
Farewell to all the warmth you have given me before you slipped away into the sea of time, moving on without thinking twice,
When the lullaby of a vampire is sung it'll be time to shut my eyes,
Because then I can be sure that I don't want tomorrow to come,
Farewell to the times we were friends conveying about silly things,
Now everyone can rejoice, once my voice is gone,
Farewell, left behind, I can no longer even cry

~Umi
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