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VisionLook through my eyes
See what I have faced
Know my story
You can't erase
The pain I've felt
The tears I've cried
The tears I've dealt
My heart that's died
Music is my only hope
To stay from falling off the ridge
And going down a slippery slope
So I am able to cross the bridge
I am a survivor
Of this cruel society
Reality is a NightmareThe dark thorns,
On the red, dying rose
Slowly pierce the light,
Sprouting from the air.
Like a moon in the night,
Sparkling little stars.
Shimmering upon the black canvas,
Where am I?
Am I okay?
The darkness is a veil,
Cloaking me in its dusk.
Causing me to disappear and
Hiding me from reality.
Running back to the Dreamland.
Where am I?
Am I okay?
The world begins to stir,
From blurred to clear.
Calming the ripples, like a rock hitting the sea .
Sending ripples out from within.
Pushing me further,
Into a dark and forgotten Dreamland.
Starting as a shimmering dream,
Ending in a bleeding nightmare.
I wake to the darkness.
Staring upon the rose,
With its dark thorns.
Giving me an escape,
From this broken Dreamland
Fight for PeaceThe trumpets call the men to order
general of the white army stand before his men
Staring into each face
As across the battle ground stands the enemy
All garnished in black armour
Shining in the sun like a beetles shell
"Men, today is the day we fight for freedom."
"today we fight for honour"
"Today is the day, we end the black generals reign of terror"
A bead of sweat falls from his brow
The battle begins
White overlaid with black
The swords swinging in vicious strokes
Then fog begins to creep in
Like a stealthy leopard
Hunting for her prey
It covers both armies in a veil
So thick they are unable to see what's before them
Both generals by now have inched there way
Upon a cliff
Far from the rest of their men
The white pushing the black general to the edge
Till he is teetering on the edge
Begging for his life the black drops his sword
But with one final stroke
Like a writer with his pen
The white general seals the black generals fate
With a red wax seal
From your mouth
How hard I try
I cant drown them out
The false hope
You place deep
Inside my heart
Upon your face
For a loop
Causing my heart
Now I write
Till I finally stop the tears
Which you have
Started the flow of
After all these years
Is this isn't the first
I was stupid
Enough to believe
You had changed from before
I know the truth as
The blood spills on the floor
My broken heart
Begins the cuts
Creating the broken veins
Yes we will stay friends
I know this to be true
But first I must cut
Because I still love you
The mechanical angelThe mechanical angel
A thing of beauty and steel
The object which has caught your eye
Stolen you heart
Though she smiles
The emotions are hidden
Scared of everyone's thoughts
She wants to prove
Show the tears sliding down her shiny cheek
She hides the emotions
Keeping the smile on
No matter her true feelings
The feelings deep inside
Could drown and over whelm
She wishes to find one who
Is strong enough to fight the tides
The waves of emotion
That come with no warning
The sounds of music
Are the only thing
Which calm the tides
Cease the waves
The angel is I
And I is she
My loveMy love for you is endless
Like a forever fairy tale
My feelings and emotions
Are visible in the air
Even with the distance
My love is still as strong
Stronger then a diamond
Which can cut through glass
Stronger then the chains
Which wound upon my heart
You have the key
To unlock my heart
Open it up to the world
For all around to see
The true love which I feel
Towards you my one and only
You wish to see me walking down the aisle
In a beautiful white gown
You want to hear me say I do
In reply to the ministers question
I will do all that and more
I promise you that
I love you
My dear Chris
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
Unable to loveMy love was pure
I only wanted
But my heart
Because my love
Like a piece of garbage
And now I'm unable
Because the shreds
Of my shattered soul
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
DifferentDifferent on the outside,
Different mask you see daily,
Different girl you call ‘Hailey’
To my surprise
Your ears are distracted,
So I tell lies, looking into your eyes,
“Yea I’m fine. Simply tired”
For that response my brain is wired.
Different mouth you hear speaking,
Different voice you hear screaming
Different eyes you see pleading,
Different person you’d befriended
I’m sorry this is how it’s ended.
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
you know..You know the feeling
Where you just want to dissappear from the world
Where you want to just die
You know the feeling
Where your hearts been broken
Where you just wish everything would be okay
You know the feeling
Where a razor blade feels so much better
Where tears stream down your cheeks every night
Are what I feel now
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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