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My words,
   Aren't necessarily,
An accurate idea,
   Of who,
I really am.
   They are more,
Expressions of what,
   I don't want to be.


~Robert van Lingen
Anthony Mayfield Aug 2018
I am somebody’s son.
Isn’t that just
Unfortunate.
That I can bear the weight of,
The sins of,
The cries of,
A father,
A mother,
A sister,
A brother.
Someday, I’ll be something else.
Forgotten, perhaps.
Or remembered as a martyr.
How ironic;
Through my freedom,
My crisp clean kingdom,
I am trapped.
sweet mercy Aug 2018
I feel like I’ve suffered so much,
Sometimes I feel like it is
never enough.
This pain that I had never compares
To Yours.
How You laid Your life,
For me, yes, also for me.

My mistakes,
They let You down.
My miseries,
They break Your heart.
I was living life
As if Your love is never enough.

And all those times that I am lost
I know one day I will find my back
In your arms, I will rest
In your light, I will find grace
Everything will make sense,
Here, now, it will never be too late.
amber Jul 2018
a shiver moves,
throughout my body.

I hear,
your coaxing words,
in my ear.
I see,
your cold lifeless eyes,
in the dark.
I feel,
your steady bony hands,
grappling at my body.

you haunt me,
yet you are not dead.
Love is not constant
It is always born again
It does not change it evolves
Bits encoded with failure and pain
Transfer to make for stronger foundation
Love does not die
It is killed
You can love someone who hates you
But you can't love someone you hate
For hate is the absence of love
Absence caused by death
Death caused, by absence
In this case.

-Luca Ivaldi
FunSlower Jul 2018
Eyes swollen by a lust for change.
A hunger; a desire
To force myself back through the gapless barrier
Preclusively demarcating reminiscence from reality.
Why can’t my anamnesis be my actuality?
Even if it is verisimilitudinous,
Lie to Me!
disorientation day
Cecil Miller Jul 2018
By the time
This is through,
I'll be
Far from you,
But not the memory
Of every single thing
You've done to me.
See, I won't be free.

Here's the deal
That is real
No matter what you say,
I bleed this very day.
Nothing's sealed.
I'm not healed.
I just don't talk about
The wounds anymore.

By the time
You are mad,
I'll be
Looking back
Won'dring if you're coming
After me to do to me
What you do to me.
See, I won't be free

Here's the deal
That is real
No matter what you say
I bleed this very day.
Nothing's sealed.
I'm not healed.
I just don't talk about
The wounds anymore.

By the time
You are through,
I'll be
Still trying to
Erase the scars of every single thing
You've done to me.
See, I won't be free.

Here's the deal
That is real
No matter what you say
I bleed this very day.
Nothing's sealed.
I'm not healed.
I just don't talk about
The wounds anymore.
I just wrote this, tonight, in one sitting.
Don't judge too harshly.
I get dark when I am hungry.
Scars, we all have them. We all give them.
Dictionary in hand Bobbies
     manned state of the spy craft created
strategic peripheral outposts
     a comma dated,

(sans syntax garnered monies) equated
justifiable to build galley ma free
     Highland Manor wing - feted
via "FAKE" glitterati

     creating surreptitious hated
surveillance monitor ring, which insulated
decked out starry eyed Starship
     Enterprise surprise rated,

as an unbelievable well Spock kin
     Duplicated Star Trek venerated
popular culture science fiction set piece,
     where elderly residents waited

this other worldly architectural phenomenon
     didst immediately outshine by alight
year among the original seven wonders
     of the world prominant
     as a buck toothed over bite

yet, didst camouflage top secret AngloSaxon
     incognito missionaries delight
upholding correct language usage,
     Thence trumpeting amidst

     nonchalant onlookers as excite
mint hinted grammarians with listening devices
     some flying unseen
     as period size drones taking flight

other more sophisticated
     electronic accouterments
     dolled, gussied, issued with apostrophe
     shaped flower buds scaling height

     of cerulean sky, where blinding light
of a solar ellipsis, thus
     arousing no discovered night
gallery suspicion during

     feted occasion rife with polite
"FAKE" markedly questionable legatees quite
suitable asper The Art Of The Deal during
     ribbon cutting ceremony,

     and after words right
ting up citations slyly
     slipped under windshield wipers
     as the madding massed crowdsource,

      would take dispersed out of sight
nonetheless echoes plenti chutzpah left
     English figures of speech
     uttering unstinting (quote unquote)

     premature ejaculations,
     eh so blandly trite
non-sequitur visited
     by thee epic of Gilgamesh
for a dangling participle
     during the split infinitive Sumer season
     (exclamation point) no more to write!
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