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 Oct 2017 NO NAME
Lindsay
Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.
 Jun 2017 NO NAME
Ashley Black
Sure
It's easy to see broken clocks
aren't ticking
but I prefer broken people
Clocks get stuck
in their last instant
At least people keep on living
 Jun 2017 NO NAME
Bret
I Wish
 Jun 2017 NO NAME
Bret
I wish that I could
once again see
through the eyes of a child.

Where pillows are clouds
soaring high through the sky,
elevated above the rest of humanity
and suspends throughout positivity.

Where the wind sounds like wolves
howling into the dark night,
heads tipped back while they cry to the moon.

Where everything is innocent
and the only thing that you needed
to worry about was whether or not you'd be invited to your friend's birthday party.

You always are.
Parents like to make things fair.

Where the barcodes on food packages
are not just the key to counting your ribs each morning
in hopes of weighing less than your bones.

Where the American dream is more than being
the skeletal version of yourself,
more than hunching over a porcelain sink each morning
with your heart in your hands
and your tears making tracks to the emptied cage that contained the battered thing.

Where you fear the darkness
because of the boogeyman or the monsters in your closet
rather than the ones that walk
alongside you on the streets
or even the ones that haunt you
every time you close your eyes.

— The End —