Love is strong like hate,
Strong or heavier weight.
Holding on until you learn what makes you strong,
Do I really have to ask what did I do wrong?
What is it that I'm missing?
Is it something that I'm risking?
Either it's life or death,
I'm still taking a breath.
To find out what makes me powerful or weak,
So I must make my weaknesses into strength.
I don't have to think of what I want,
My spirit is what makes me haunt.
To open my heart than hardening,
To release something that is blinding.
If hate is strong like love,
It's not just an angel from above...
Even if I'm just human,
We're all inhuman...
Humanity is more than emotional,
I
On the avenue on normalism I refused smalltalk by ConriSade, literature
Literature
On the avenue on normalism I refused smalltalk
Where are you from?
I’m from the first semester of this Master’s study
I’m from the faculty of humanities
I come from the local bakery, where the cookies were on discount, want some?
I’m from the photography course
I’m from the past and now I’m here. Present.
I'm from the past,defining myself for tomorrow,
for somebody else who will ask me the same question - And you?
I’m from the street
I’m from the broad avenue of normalism - with one-way traffic
where abundant traffic signs incite non-realistic expectations
to answer universal questions about a stranger's unknown past.
And I’m als
Hemlock rainfall drains from death's garden.
The sweetness too overpowering to complain
Making God's compost late in the night.
Aphotic Cupid mix the loves in life's mixing bowl.
A cosmic love that will outreach the devil's hold
Onto fates grasp.
Let the ash cover wounds and regrow new limbs.
Ones that can match the pureness of sable wings.
New ways to sin. What you covet, the end brings.
Singing of the mocking jay soothes the condemned little things.
Bring us closer to the judgement day, it gently lies peaceful in the horizon.
Cry on gentle decaying trees, weeping at the sweetness that brings the rainfall.
It is just the breeze sending the
Incorporated languages - or sharing rich meaning by ConriSade, literature
Literature
Incorporated languages - or sharing rich meaning
My incorporated languages
or: me and my polyamorous language relationships
It’s English who makes me say silly things
and invites you to my multilingual mind
It’s Dutch who makes me playful
and disoriented about my identity
It’s French who makes me feel connected verbally
to the social statuses of the intellectual army
It's German who surprises me in many ways
sometimes making me realize how small –
how great – our shared common ground is
It’s Finnish who makes me motivated and confident
feeling hänen grammarinsa embedded in my experiences
It’s Hungarian who makes me stumble in telling
m
Disillusioning Light by Lady-Paladin-Skye, literature
Literature
Disillusioning Light
Life signs zero, save This One
The light shines notwithstanding
Ethereal; Flawed Entity
Panic, worry, fear and woe
Have taken their foothold
What will become of This One?
Meet kindred as dust?
A reconnaissance of truth
As talons of death bring themselves to bear?
The light that birthed the dawn;
How long before This One sees it gone?
Drowning in
An abyssal void
Hope crumbling
Stripped from
Refined joy
Without mercy
All their lies
Distorted reality
Agonizing pain
Without reprieve
Where is the angel?
The liberator?
Deliver me from
This grueling fate
Never Become Like Me by FireAngelOfSymmetry, literature
Literature
Never Become Like Me
WHAT INSPIRED ME TO CREATE THIS PIECE!
"Creating things is an amazing thing. it’s amazing to see what other people are doing, to see the inner workings of someone else’s brain, but in their own style. and if you want to do it, you just go for it. you try. you have to try. ” ~PJ Liguori (KickThePJ) (I'm not scared video)
I am only a young girl, destined to work until my body begins to fade from the earth.
I am only a fragment of the country that floats on the body of water that blankets the world.
I am a person with feelings towards many things. Some things I love so much that I would protect them, even if protecting them
this wandering must not continue by tirasunil, literature
Literature
this wandering must not continue
don't try and tell me that this is
the start of something undiscovered.
neon lights flashed in my face when i
walked up the side of mt. mckenna -
their heraldry ever-foreboding and
omnipresent witness to the escaping of
the streets into the wild.
"blue echo, this is not who it was yesterday."
taglines used to make sense in a world with
the letter j, now we just pretend not to vomit
at the word "joy" and try not to retch at the name of
jesus.
i wear my sunglasses at night not to see you clearly,
but in the hopes that maybe you'll forget you saw me at all.
we stitch together incoherencies and call it poetry;
when was the last time we m