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Jindomess Jun 2015
One by one they fall
The ones I thought
Were my friends
There they go,
Distancing themselves
From me,
Until they are completely gone
From sight
But not from mind

Every night I remember
The fallen faces
Once friends
Now death eaters
Devouring my
Malleable flesh

"You will never lose me"
The newest one to the
Fallen faces said just the night before
She lied, and stole my friend

One less from my already
Tiny group
Of people who "care" for me

I never know what I do
To deserve this from anyone
Maybe its my tone
My anger
The demons that let themselves loose
On the page

Or maybe it's the things that count
The things they know and see of me
The kindness I give to them
The love I give for all I care for
Or the horrible, despicable, evil
Things inside themselves,
That I protect them from

My malleable flesh
That they currode away
The flesh that
They know is weak
And know they can walk all over
Because of my overwhelming kindness

I don't know
Why I keep believing
When people say they won't leave
When they always do

My mother
Gives me my kindness
My father
Gives me the rage I throw
On pages and pages
But never show

My mother
The reason why I'm so malleable
My father
The reason why I have the dreams
Of killing, of yelling

Both
My depression

My mind now
Reworking all that has just happened
In it self
It organizes my thoughts
Replaying the events
Showing what to do next time

Re-Awakening itself
To now know
Not to trust those who
Show no effort
Who pretend to know
Who eventually, will be the others
In my dreams,
Of killing
In my writing,
Where all of my demons let loose.

I want to love all
Even thought I know
Not all will love me
i ******* quit... I probably have a lot of mistakes... And I would love thoughtful criticism.... I hate spelling
Cori MacNaughton Jun 2015
A century-long killing spree
(Still pales next to Religion)
This is the 4th of fifteen 10-word poems I wrote this morning, 23 June 2015.  I posted them here in the order in which I wrote them.
Nessa dieR May 2015
I can't sleep.
Every time I close my eyes to rest:
I see him,
And every single time:
He reaches out his hand towards me,
Asking me to dance.
but I don't
I never do
I'm not able to,
For I don't know how to dance.
And it kills me
Because
That is probably the last time I'll ever see him,
And I can't even have that one *last dance

With Him...
Redoing this poem from Jan 13
Leigh May 2015
The story of a tiny gift, half chewed and fear-stained
Left on the alter outside the back door:

When first stunned with a slap or a precisely timed
Bite, a vigil is held -- wings twitch and flutter.
With a curious tilt, widened eyes record
Muscle spasms; calculating the
Flight risk; metering the force of the next
Outburst; prolonging the fun.

A game or performance art?
The victim's peers yell and screech
From the rooftops - do they know
The show is for them?

After few manoeuvres more it matters little
As a tiny neck snaps between missing teeth.
The audience scatters and the corpse is left behind
As an offering for those who feed the beast.
.

The joys of owning a cat.
.
Graff1980 May 2015
What makes a good soldier
I’ve never been to the battlefield
And if I can I still never will
But I am curious how you define
What honor is

When questioning in the time
Of war is treason
And the battle seasoned
Veterans will blast you in the head

The best qualities I quest for
Will get you shot in the heat of war
And instead of doing what’s right
By being a good human being
You have to degrade yourself
And become a killing machine
Kyle Howard May 2015
I plead to you
Let me rest in peace
For my lifeless husk
Is now deceased
The weight of pain
Was killing me
It won the war
It waged on me
So let me down
into the ground
And I promise not
To make a sound
For my withered heart
Beats no more
And my soul has left
The rivers shore
I'll float off now
Into the great beyond
Moving forward and
Moving on
Mariah Langton May 2015
Liam James could hear all the voices.
Talking and judging all of his choices.
He just smiled and shook his head.
They didn’t know what was ahead.

He walked the streets alone.
Never really minding that he was on his own.
He thought about his plan and grew grim.
And wondered if anyone would know it was him..

He looked back at his younger days.
Before he experienced all of the pain.
He thought about all of his old friends
And how they all turned their backs.

And then Liam James took out his gun.
It would all be worth it in the long run.
The shots rang out one by one.
Killing the ones who had made him come undone.
SøułSurvivør May 2015
---

the desert lies in wait
the anvil of the sun
it's creatures know their fate
'fore the summer has begun
the heat will either ****
as surely as a gun
or folk bend to its will
the weather's cruelty to shun

the parched and dusty soil
waits for the summer rains
these will quench or spoil
flooding down arroyo drains
water weeps - the El Nino
great winds rip the plains
like an eagle's cry they echo
destroy in their refrains

the weather makes or breaks you
whether fire or killing frost
the farmer is the one who
pays the greatest cost
every year the price is dear
so much to be lost
temperatures to soar
the earth is torn or tossed

but the people of Sonora
already have begun
to feel It's powerful aura

the anvil of the sun


soulsurvivor
(c) 5/19/2015
every year hikers pass out
from the heat, and die in the desert

be warned - the sun is as Vulcan
not the character on Star Trek
tho he has pointy ears

HE CAN BE A DEVIL

---
Michaela May 2015
May
Your lies so killing,
This morning in May.
My screams internal.
I cannot stay away.

I must statue on,
Must parade this good day.
As your lies dismantle
This morning in May.
It was a Sunday.
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