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 Apr 2016 D W
Axle Avatari
Pain striking my heart,
Like a tolling bell.
When will it find love?
Who can tell.

I walk the streets,
Of loneliness.
How sore my feet.
And I'm lost in this mess.

I live my life,
In a zombie trance.
Never to laugh,
Never to dance.

My wings,
Too broken to fly.
And my eyes.
Too dry to  cry.

My heart,
Too hardened to feel.
My life,
Too empty to be real.

I wander the streets of loneliness.
Looking for comfort.
Looking for rest.
Looking for love.
I am homeless,
Inside.
And there are black skies above.
A poem from my youth
 Dec 2015 D W
Kylie Jean
Oblivion
 Dec 2015 D W
Kylie Jean
Where is she?
She is gone,
Lost to oblivion
Fear cannot follow her here
Failed relationships are forgotten
Left in the abyss
Here, she finds peace
Peace of heart
Peace of mind
Freedom...

But before long, a new presence arrives
Known as...loneliness
Created by isolation
The ultimate price for peace
Isolation
Paid in full

-Kylie Jean
It took me a couple of hours to put this together. I had a lot of emotions going through writing this. Right now, I feel that I am the one lost in oblivion. And letting those raw emotions flow through me was slightly painful, yet it took a burden off of my shoulders. Enjoy!
 Oct 2015 D W
Sarah Spang
Before this
There was infinity, reachable by tiny fingers
And wide eyes
Scraped knees and
Bobbing heads disappearing into the trees.
'Nilla wafers and nap time
Took us off through the wildest jungles
Sent you drifting with a patched eye across the ocean
With ol' blue beard

One day, stark as the contrast between warmth
And a dash of ice-water
Every illusion used to protect, to comfort
Became as crystal clear
As shattering windshield glass.

I remember that day
I remember the clutch of fabric in my small hands
The spicy, familiar scent as I pushed it into my face
Feeling no warmth behind it, no enclosure of arms
Only the carapace
Your long-sleeved second skins
That filled the rich mahogany dresser
Long after you departed with the last you'd ever wear.

Not touching the cold stranger in the box made it real;
Nor the sound of it's door as it closed.
No, not even the earth piled atop the pile of
Crushed roses
The stone bearing our names.

It was the sweet, lingering scent
The essence you left behind
That had already begun to fade;
The scent that was as unique as rain on fallen leaves
Would one day leave
Just as you did.
 Oct 2015 D W
Maxwell
Today I will write a poem
not about your face
and how beautiful
and sublime it is

Today I will write a poem
not about my love
and how it is about you
and only you

Today I will write a poem
not about your love
and how it is not about me
and how it deeply hurts me

Instead, I will write a poem
about us, only us
except that
there is no us
 Oct 2015 D W
Shyanna Ashcraft
I had a dream once,
That I was on a ship.
The ship it rocked,
And indeed it dipped,
And on this ship I took a trip.

I rode around the ocean blue,
And looked for joy,
And I found you.

I looked in wonder,
I gasped in awe,
I kissed you once
To prove what I saw.

And when I really truly knew,
I had a thought then,
Of what to do.

I'd sail us home
Again, you see,
And I'd take you
there again with me,

And once ashore,
We'd soon be married,
And I'd sail off again,
With you to ferry,

Until the day we'd
both need buried.
10-14-15
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