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Words free to corrall
Untamed, wild beasts may bite
Loose from mouth unleashed
Words are powerful beasts
The artwork a face
a mirror the frame
no portrait the same
She feels like she is in the center of it all
Between the chaos and the peace she longs for
The day when she can close her eyes and shut out the noise
the days of joy that went past her as the minute hand races pass the hour we all hope would last a few minutes longer

She filled with peace but in her peace there is so much pain
I would know I listen to her when she decides to share her story
Her story is not the story of a princess and the prince
But I admire the determination cause once in a while she tell me that she too will eventually get her happy ending
That the hell hole that she is currently facing will be a thing of the past
She has a smile of the early morning sunrise
In her story even when she seems beaten and bruised
She still wants to fight
She gets up every morning to a battle and goes to sleep in her armour
I have to wonder if she sleeps most of her days

But am only a visitor thanks to her
Just like many others before It is only due to her kindness
Even though others were quick to voice their opinion about how they would do if they were in her shoes
I just do not think her story is for me to edit but to rather keep my thoughts to myself
I listen
I just wanted to write about someone else for a change and I finally got that chances
.
told frigid outside                                                          ­                    
within   love is stretched thin         this home   puckled tight
sealed  and buckled in      from all the social weathering
from the gatherings    in heated public yurts and gymnasiums
that fail short of ***** ****
from the bothersome geographic features out there          
       demanding expeditions, exploration and organization

within   we can see the fridge light                                      
                     ­                                in the middle of the night
we can receive signals and visions                      
                        but are pressed ******* our hearts
waiting out the winter wound
pierrot Apr 16
pierrot, pierrot they cry!
when's the last time a tear left your eye?
pierrot, pierrot i sigh!
whom have you left your heart to this time?
sillier low effort piece
Zack Ripley Apr 14
If you've ever wondered
what it'd be like
to be touched by an angel,
you need only touch yourself
neth jones Apr 13
i enter the river
later the woods
tour natures suicide spots
snub them for a man made bridge
snub the bridge
    because i find life pretty today
    too pretty to bend deaths ear
                             and suspend
26/02/23 : date of earliest version
notes -
you go to the woods to end your life
to bend deaths ear and suspend
mending your feedback of strife
neth jones Apr 6
hungry
belly growling
go    c a n n i b a l i s t i c
on   victims     of   my   appetite
people flee me with their tidy routine
t r a u m a t i c a l l y    busted up
meat flowers    devoured
my glutton grows
hungry
rictameter style
neth jones Apr 6
daycare drop off
he sees me cross a sunbeam on the way out
rushes up to stop me
and gets me to crouch so he can give me a 'sunbeam hug’ (his words)
neth jones Mar 28
the interior     night
he divided a dream into many dreams
worlds opened    diva-ing
and flares   pething out of darkness
seeming obedient  at first
                                 he visited
in truth      they were playful
  but explored his ugly secret details
        and gave no hint of a healing effect

deceived   he was tossed
   exhausted into a new day
                      of occupation and toil
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