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 Jul 2018 Delia Darling
Logan
My throat is as dry the desert,
                                     my stomach growls like a beast,
                                      I haven't had food or water for days.

                                      I don'k know how I got here,
                                      my body lays broken on the ground,
                                       dropped a thousand feet down.

                                       The sky is a sea of red,
                                        the ocean is red as blood,
                                        the sand is hot as fire.

                                    Only god knows what I've done.
 Jul 2018 Delia Darling
ali
darling,
you wear your depression
as a mask of undeniable normality-
don't say you're messed up.
it carves wells beneath your eyes,
streaks your face with a natural glow,
weighs down your heart
so you don't fly away to the stars...
away from us-
don't tell me it steals your beauty.
darling,
it keeps your pen going
during those early mornings
after all the caffeine
has run out
and your mind can no longer battle
the long, black fingers of sleep
grasping for you-
don't write any more society-approved lies.
it leaves art on your skin,
whether it be permanent
or with assorted colors of paint,
that tell stories,
your stories,
without words.
no longer hide the battles you've fought-
don't let others scorn your victories.

darling,
you are a masterpiece,
you are perfection.
don't let this depression
own you,
but become more than it.
please share with whoever you think needs to hear this, stay strong my fellow poets, without you we lose not only a unique perspective, but a unique, beautiful person<3
Hey, Mister Man
Tell me why
You chose to steal concentration
Because of you,
I am in perdition
Vengeance is mine
Says the old and wise
But I can’t discern
When love fogs my eyes
So, coming down
The man in the Blue-Haired robes
Because of His brutal choke
Tonight, the choir sings
Of your deception
And my depression
So, coming down
Say something
Coming down
Do nothing
I can’t sleep while my soul
Cries at night
Hey, Mister Man
You’re coming down
The good die Young, but the wicked have it worse because they live long enough to someday realize that karma is coming for them
death breathed me
had seemed
to be breathing me

moving air in my chest
taking hold

i had only said hello
and death was answering back
moon
waste no seconds with my heart

above my head invitations open

moonlight's no solstice sun reflection,
but solstice moon rather
mooning moon

what gifts you bring for me
to make me stop!

simplicity in the message

solstice moon
you my heart

and my heart
love
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