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NamesNames are not found in dictionaries,
Names don't tell of one's status, ability, or personality.
Each name is unique.
No matter how common it is.
For although others may share your name.
Share it right down to the last letter,
There never has been, and never will be,
another you again.
And that fact is what makes you, you.
IronyI asked for it.
I wanted it so desperately.
Oh, how I thought I needed it.
I pathetically yearned for it,
making stupid reasons as to why it should be mine.
It would be everything I needed and more.
It would calm me in times of anxiety.
It would raise my spirits in times of sorrow.
It would accompany me in times of loneliness.
I had given everything for it.
Then I realized
it only brought upon me more stress
it only brought upon me more sorrow
it only brought upon me more loneliness.
I asked for it,
I received it.
I never wanted it.
I Wouldn't Have Believed You.If last year you told me,
that this is where I'd be in one year,
I wouldn't have believed you.
I would have stood up and punched you,
right then and there.
No matter what you would have said,
you couldn't have ruined my happiness.
I had everything I wanted.
I didn't know where I was going,
but I was happy to be going there.
Friends, family, loved ones, all at my side,
all walking with me down the same road.
I wouldn't have heeded your words,
because nothing could have ruined my happiness.
Days seemed to fly,
but the good times lasted.
I knew, if you told me, you'd be wrong.
But the unthinkable happened,
And although the initial thrill was dying,
I wouldn't have let your words ruin my happiness.
Hard times followed,
the road I was on was becoming barren and dry.
I was lost,
but I continued on,
determined to keep my happiness.
Clinging to what little I had left.
Until one day, my happiness was ruined.
Your words weren't the culprit tho,
Because it was my happiness tha
The WorldI can't believe it.
I don't understand.
How can you think that this awful man,
Is your entire world, let alone your friend?
Please tell me,
He is your world?
Since when does the world turn its back on you?
When does it leave you high and dry in your time of need?
When does it exploit and use you?
Cheat and abuse you?
Since when does the world build you up,
just to knock you down?
When does it make you feel special,
just to pull the rug from beneath your feet?
How can it make you feel so cold on the hottest day?
So alone around all your friends?
What? Oh, you mean to say,
that IS what the world is like?
Cruel? Unjust? Unfair?
Then, I guess you're right.
This awful man...
he is the world to you isn't he?
Slipped through the CracksWhen she is sad, I am sad.
When she's in pain, so am I.
But when she's happy, I'm dying.
And when she's laughing, I'm crying.
If only she knew, how I feel.
But she never will.
Because that guy is the lucky one
making her happy,
making her laugh,
making her smile.
And I'm just the guy who slipped through the cracks.
The Right FlowerLove is like a flower,
picked special from a meadow and cared for.
Once picked though,
the flower will begin to wither and wilt.
But you DO have time.
Time to trim it, beautify it, complement it.
How much time and compassion you put into that 'flower' determines how long it will last.
Even if it does die, do not fret!
Press it in the book of you memory; preserve it.
For that flower will be the foundation of all other flowers you continue to pick.
That book of flowers will teach you and remind you how to treat your flowers.
But one day, you will no longer need that book.
When that day comes you'll know,
you'll know you've picked a flower that will last a life time.
Why do you haunt me?Why does your memory haunt me so?
Causing me to relive that painful time.
That first moment when we weren't together.
It's like you taunt me at the best possible instances.
Bringing my "all time low" ever lower.
When my friends laugh and are having fun.
I am trying with all my might to hide my violent shutters,
and to steady my quivering lip as I can barely hold back the tears.
Why? Why do you want to cause me such pain?
I don't want to remember.
It's done and over.
Somehow I see you among a sea of faces.
I can pick out your voice in a babble of billions.
Your scent somehow appears and I can't rid my nose of it.
I know you aren't there but why does it seem like you are?
My friends don't realize the pain you put me through.
I'm used to wearing a mask.
But someday soon it's going to fall off.
Your memories will expose me for who I am.
Miserable, depressed, pathetic.
I thought I could leave past memories in the past.
But I was never really good at anything.
Why would I think I could
You're Not AloneWe live in a world that is full of great pain.
Where everyone one has a heavy burden to carry.
We think that nobody could possibly understand what we have gone through.
But in a world that is abundant in such matters,
there is somebody, somewhere who knows of your grievances;
who shares your pain;
who is in the same boat.
So know; You're not alone.
Like a child behind a locked door,
we keep our burdens a secret.
We do what we shouldn't.
We say what we wouldn't.
Instead of seeking help among ones we love,
we pray they never find out.
We isolate ourselves;
we think we're alone...
Weather it was something we have said or done,
something we are ashamed of,
or something in our past.
It eats at our hearts.
We are afraid to open up.
We forget that we aren't the only ones in the world,
because others laugh and smile.
But I assure you, they have their own problems too.
So don't think you're alone.
Stop looking back if your past is ugly.
Stop looking to your side and comparing your life.
Falling StarsI step out the door,
and gaze upon the beauty that I stand before.
I see little white stars falling
outlined on the sky, which is now darkening.
Desolate and noiseless it becomes,
the falling star, by gravity, succumbs,
joining the aesthetic sea of white,
gleaming and reflecting the dimming light.
It's truly magical to see such a sight,
Falling stars, a beauty in the night.
I retreat into my dwelling,
an end to my outing.
But the memory will not soon fade,
for the image that was just conveyed,
will stay permanent in my mind,
while a picture in yours is being defined.
But it will not compare to the beauty of the original sight,
the beauty of stars falling in the night.
Do not.Do not tell me that you love me,
It's not something I want to hear.
Do not tell me that you need me,
That you want to hold me dear--
To you chest, so I can hear your heart beat,
Do not once for a moment,
Think that I am incomplete.
I'm fine, thank you, without you,
Without anyone holding me back
I don't really need you,
You're not something that I lack.
I lack a stable heart, you see,
Mine's different from the rest.
It doesn't need some silly affection,
To bring out its best.
It doesn't have a best, I'd say,
If I may be so bold,
It's cracked and charred and hollow,
It leaves you numbly cold.
Do not tell me that you love me,
I am in a paper town.
I'm empty, you can't save me,
It's best to let me drown.
A voice, a murmur
She's afraid, confused,
She recognizes the sounds of his voice
The gentle hum carried by the wind,
The words are oh so familiar.
Is she dreaming?
It could be a nightmare
But it's impossible, it's all impossible.
The day before it happened
Sitting in the park
Everything was hazed pink, pink, pink
Everything was love.
His words, verbatum
"Forever never ends,
even when life is dead."
But it died, drowning.
I feel his whisper
Cold as the waters that took life away, away, away.
Cold as the stone of the grave.
"Forever never ends" he says,
Even though I'm dead.
The Glass BoxWithin the box,
Is my own little world.
It is captured by glass,
That can be broken,
As easily as a heart.
This glass though,
Keeps me peaceful,
Know I cannot be hurt,
The glass is also soundproof,
So I cannot be hurt,
But what's life without a little hurt,
Once in a while?
That's when I realized,
This glass may keep me safe,
But it cannot keep me alive.
I tap on the glass,
Waiting to be set free,
I am unheard.
Why would they put me,
Inside something so breakable,
But so devilish?
Burying HeartstringsConfessions of a misguided poet:
this is me being brave,
no echo of my footsteps
after the ice has melted.
There is a song for this,
but you've been gone finding
Borrowing the past,
I leave my heart in Haiti
where we should be.
three minutes of eye contactall roads smell of kerosene
and you are your own worst enemy
in symbols, runes and broken windows
through telescopes of burning tyres
breathing black smoke, clouds with human faces
and a dog with three heads, lingering
my own doors are misted glass
they sweep wide with an electronic whisper
and this is my museum
i try to keep the violence to a low hum
but these defining moments
hang on rusted nails and quake against the walls
we find lost hopes and imaginings
wrapped up in these archetypes
and acceptance in the space between the cliches
DareI dare you to be creative.
To express yourself in ways that only you can.
And in being creative, you can spark inspiration within others.
That inspiration can swell up and blossom inside them.
And from the blossomed inspiration, dreams are born.
Dreams, that can change the world.
So, in acceptance of this simple dare.
You may unknowingly inspire.
You may unknowingly plant dreams.
You may unknowingly change the world.
Are you up to it?
Stuck The car sputtered and shook as it came to an almost silent stop. The engine had gone silent as the horn beeped loudly through the dark night. The orange gas light blinked mockingly at the woman behind the wheel. It was making fun of her; she knew it was making fun of her. Grabbing the black cellular phone on the passenger seat, she looked at it with full intention of calling somebody to come help her.
“Oh, what the hell?!”
The “no service” sign was mocking her at the same exact time. The horn beeped loudly as she slammed her head against it once again. The day was out to get her in general. She had arrived at all her classes late, and her son was sick with the flu. The babysitter was able to watch him as she went to her late night classes. Giving a heavy sigh, she lifted her head off the wheel to look out the window. Drops of water pooled on the windshield as rain started to fall in a pitter-patter pattern. She didn’t quite understand the message th
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More