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 Sep 2017 Riham
Rebel Heart
I've been tossed overboard
By my own ship of life
Forgotten by the world
Drowning in my own pain
And the lost words I shout
Never to be heard...
I've slipped everyone's mind
Adrift alone at sea
No one seems to hear my cries
All I have left is me
But I'm getting tired of myself
And the demons
Constantly trying to drown me
....
What's the point anyway
In living life just to survive
When there's nothing
To survive for
I guess I might as well
Calm the seas
By giving in to the tides
And letting my body
Wash up on the *shore
Young RH was intense and these poems are more depressing that I remember but feel free to leave any critism in the comments ~BM
 Sep 2017 Riham
Rebel Heart
She was shattered
Beyond repair

Nothing but a used
Porcelain doll
Tossed into the flame
Cursed
To never be loved

Never again
...
A miracle it was
When he finally came
Who'd seen her beauty

He'd seen the light in her dark
The smile beyond the pain
He'd seen her soul beyond her eyes
The strength beyond the tears

"You're one of a kind"
"There's none other like you"

So He picked her
And he loved her
Truely
Wonderfully
With all the love he could give
...
But then came the truth,
The whole truth
Not the half
That he'd been telling
"I can help you"
"I can change you"
"Let me fix you"

And her happiness came to a crashing end...
...

Because even though
She was nothing more
Than a broken toy
Fragile to the touch,
Every shattered piece
Of her soul
And her heart
Was full of overwhelming
Beauty and Love
To which the world
Was blind to

They couldn't see
She was a miracle
Within herself

And neither could *he
She didn't need to change.. the world did.

If any of you ever feel alone or broken please know you're not alone. As cliche as it sounds all you need is to find that love within yourself and maybe a friend to hold your hand through it all and remind you to love yourself. That being said, don't hesitate to reach out and thank you so much for the support so far
 Sep 2017 Riham
Rebel Heart
Depression is art
The kind few actually understand
It's poetry is embodied in the paint
That covers the artist's hands.
And the canvas drips words
That fill up the empty space
With colors of black and blue
To fill up the feeling of grey
Within the emptiness
Of the corners of the artist's heart.
But the design isn't yet finished
The last stroke waiting to breathe
On the canvas to complete it
Before the world can see.
Slices of red added to the portrait
And specks of tears too
To complete the last touch
Of the masterpiece for you.
...
But you know what they say
Most art isn't understood
And the poetry behind it all
Is lost in the colors too.
For you would only know
If you knew this:
That the art was her soul
But the canvas was her **skin
...The artist was the art...
(Written by a lonely once-14 year old who years later realizes how hard it is to get the paint off once its stained you because art itself is sometimes a drug)
Don't be afraid to reach out I'm here to talk if any of you need to <3
 Sep 2017 Riham
Lyn-Purcell
Gothello
 Sep 2017 Riham
Lyn-Purcell
Othello, your pearl!
Don't let it slip from your hands.
Into another.

Deceive, Iago
For what you claim not to weave
A spindle of death.

Don't, Desdemona!
Don't fear the fault of your star!
Nor the fruits of death.

The sweet strawberries
Upon sheets of white and black,
run from Orange fate.
Othello is one of my alltime favourite plays. One of many gothic classics that I can relate to in many ways.
It's been a while since I wrote some haikus too!
 Sep 2017 Riham
Paul Butters
No life or death
Pain or pleasure
Galaxy
Or Universe
No more beautiful dawns or dusks
No world of wonders
Or anything
Once we are gone.

So it’s Now Boys!
Attention!
As Huxley said
On “Island”.
Live for Now.
For this very moment.

Stop.
Let your mind go blank.
Listen to your body
And all that surrounds you.

Breathe in the oxygen
That gives us life.
Admire the sky
And all beneath it.

Join with nature:
Sapping grass and foliage
The song of birds
As Mummy Sparrow feeds her fluffy chick
Its beak open wide
Clamouring for food.

Enjoy it all
While it lasts.

Paul Butters
This one has been simmering for a while....
 Sep 2017 Riham
Seema
Know Me :-)
 Sep 2017 Riham
Seema
I am called an angel
I am called a ninja
I wear silver bangles
My color is of ginger

I have doll like eyes
My figure is of a small coke bottle
I hate tales of flying lies
I live in the pacific portal

I smile when I am sad
Tears are always in abundance in me
I have a temper and I do get mad
I am only a human, you see

I love reading and adore writing
But my mouth ain't a word diarrhea
I love silence and scenery sitings
I've been writing for over an year

I am in love with my adorable dogs
Who make my lone day bright
Cloudy yet windy, misty or fogs
I love this weather, as a cold night

My inner me is a mischief child
I am in my early working thirties
My imaginative writing gets wild
I am quite authoritative

I teach info tech, I love my students
Knowledge sharing is my best part
I am intolerable to fake mutants
But, I hate to see them depart

My name is Seema and I am a free writer
With the challenges I face
Each day makes my life brighter
With the blink of time in trace...


©sim
Introduction.
 Sep 2017 Riham
Lyn-Purcell
Would
 Sep 2017 Riham
Lyn-Purcell
Would that I could join you.
Would that I could ignore you.
Would that I could be you.
Would that I could skin you.
Would that I could love you.
Would that I could hate you.
Would that I could see you.
Would that I could blind you.
Would that I could free you.
Would that I could bind you.
Would that I could touch you.
Would that I could grab you.
Would that I could hold you.
Would that I could cage you.
Would that I could kiss you.
Would that I could **** you.
Would that I could...
Would that I...
Would that...
Would...
Wrote this in my journal
 Sep 2017 Riham
Lady ꓘ
Make a wish
Another blown candle
to my so called golden year
Another wish in earths rotation to the same life long inauguration
When is the house and picket fence sent?
In blown candles of wishes after wishes?
Doubt after doubt
it becomes so repetitious ?
When does your pockets grow?
In blown candles of riches after riches
Til you become so poor
you sleep under the bridges
When is love sent?
In blown out candles of loneliness
Carrying a familiar scent to its smokey extinguishment?
Oh life,
Light me up instead
but not like a birthday candle
No, No
Light me like a night candle
Like the flame you wouldn't separate
from its source upon lighting
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