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Elizabeth Brown Oct 2018
In the darkness within the light
I cry.
This shield from the world smells of you.
I can feel you there,
From miles away,
Staring at me.
You wonder why this is happening,
Wonder why I’m sad.
I’m not sad, I’m angry.
I’m angry at him for trying to stay,
I’m angry at you for causing this pain.
I’m angry at everyone I’ve ever known.
I hate my parents for breathing life into a soul that should have been
Extinguished.
More than that, I’m angry with myself.
Why do I allow myself to make these decisions?
Whose idea was it to give me power over myself?
Free will? It’s a prison.
I want nothing but to be rid of it.
Please, let me sleep.
I only want to sleep.
Yet I continue to breathe you in.
You are sodden with my sadness, I am broken again.
Kasey Wheeler Sep 2018
We didn't see the wind
We didn't see the rain
We didn't see the way
His eyes were sinking in

We didn't hear the storm
We didn't hear the thunder
We didn't hear the way
His voice grew vacant

We didn't feel the humidity
We didn't feel the cold
We didn't feel the way
His hands gripped ours

We didn't taste the water
We didn't taste the salt
We didn't taste the way
His words that were meant to invoke

We didn't smell the air
We didn't smell the tang
We didn't smell the way
He didn't take a shower

We didn't see him heal
We didn't hear him cry
We didn't feel him here
We didn't taste his pain
We didn't smell his self-hate

We didn't want to look
That far into him
Idk, take it as you will
Vibrancy is all that I require,
Since I hold a special beauty all my own.
I'm all that you desire,
When sitting in my glass throne.

I come from fields of plenty,
Bathed in hues of violet.
I'm used for bouquets of many,
Making everything ultraviolet.

My smell is quite unique,
Since I have a spectrum of them.
I have my own mystique,
All coming from my stem.

People love me from up close or afar,
Maybe it's for my color or my smell.
All I know, is that I'm special by far,
Having everyone cast under my spell.
ABOVE THE FUCHSIA COLORED CITY
IS A FRENCH ROSE COLORED SKY,
COLORED AS ANOTHER NAME
OTHER THAN THE CLOUDS OF WHITE
SALT AND BONES.

THE CITY'S AIR SMELL OF GREY
ELEPHANT'S BREATH AND POETRY.
I BLAME THE LEMONADE  COLORED
RAIN THAT DIDN'T FALL TODAY
FOR THIS CONUNDRUM.

MAYBE THE RAIN IS PROBABLY
SOMEWHERE SITTING STILL
IN THE HOT SEAT OR MAYBE IN
HEAVEN'S COLORLESS TIGHTLY
CLOSED LAP.
SITTING
               THERE
                          THINKING
                             ­                WHAT
                                                       COLORS                      
                                    ­                               GO
                                                                ­         BEST
                                                            ­                     WITH
                                                                ­                         WILD
                                                                ­                    EMOTIONS?
earthling Sep 2018
the faint smell of rain
and the remnants in my coffee cup
from hours of early morning
wake me from my sleep
and as i lay in the space
between dreaming and consciousness
i breathe in the scent again
in hopes that it would take me back
to a similar time in the past
when i was closer to home.
Linus Stevenson Sep 2018
i remember what it felt like,
but i can't feel it
i remember what it tasted like,
but i can't taste it
i remember what it smelled like,
but i can't smell it
i remember what it looked like,
but i can't see it
i remember what it sounded like,
but i can't hear it

i remember Love,
but i can't
Aa Harvey Sep 2018
Flatulence breeds laughter


Come smile with me, as I sing you a song;
About God's little gift, to every man.
For we all like to laugh and forget all our worries
And we all like to laugh, whenever we can.


At a worldwide problem which just can't be solved;
Of epidemic proportions, it affects us all.
It's the funniest thing known, but embarrassing too;
But the louder the funnier, as long as it's not you.


It's flatulence! It's one big ****!
It's a stinky little number and it came from my ****.
It's flatulence! It's one big ****!
It's a stinky little number written straight from the heart.


It's flatulence! It's one big ****!
It's a stinky little number and it came from my ****.
It's flatulence! It's one big ****!
La, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la,
La, lahh!


Who dropped that off?  Who left us a present?
Who smells that bad?  Come on! Who the Hell is it?
******* that's bad, something smells like it's died.
You filled my lungs with a sickness, you brought a tear to my eye;
You made me wish I was a dog and I had no nose,
Then when you'd tell them of my story,
They'd say how does he smell?
(shout) AWFUL!


It's flatulence! It's one big ****!
It's a stinky little number and it came from my ****,
It's flatulence! It's one big ****!
It's a stinky little number written straight from the heart.
It's flatulence! It's one big ****!
It's a stinky little number and it came from my ****,
It's flatulence! It's one big ****!
La, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la,
La, la, la, la,
La, lahh!


Well it's time to end this song,
With no more bad **** jokes in sight.
It's time to wander on,
With just a trumpety, trump; goodnight.


(C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
E McNamara Aug 2018
Can you smell the peaches?
Because they are all I can think about-
i'm sure you have heard me say it before. but i just cant keep my head on straight.
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
Wrapped in a warm
blanket of vanilla
and lavender
stardust
The wonders of wax melts! ^-^
Lyn ***
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