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 Mar 2015 Courtney Gaura
abby
i have  become a collection
of  ripped pieces of sketch paper
and ink and paint and blood.
my head is a wasteland
filled with hazy drugs
that let me sleep.
i want to let gravity do it's work
and pull my fingertips to earths core
mix dirt into my veins
and take shots out of glasses
full of whiskey and ache.
i want to walk into the ocean
and fill my body with more water
than it was meant for.
i want to become the sand
so people will make castles out of me
and so i can laugh
when i burn their bare feet.

instead i am an incomplete drawing
and a poem that makes no sense.

*(a.m.c.)
 Feb 2015 Courtney Gaura
JWolfeB
The gun felt cold against my skin
Safety still on
Pulling the trigger only happens in movies
Fear holding me sideways
Dreaming of courage to take the bullet out
So instead I began holding pencils to my temple
Attempting to rewrite my future
 Feb 2015 Courtney Gaura
Leia R
Blood stained the cobblestone street
As they punished me, San Valentín.
For marrying people off the streets,
To keep them from the war defeats.

Yet they celebrate my body marred
On a holiday with gifts and cards.
I wish to join them in chocolates fed,
But it's hard to eat without your head.
What Valentines is really about.
I may never truly learn how to love this chest of mine, but I am sure that I could learn how to love what is buried inside of it.

I cannot draw on the moon... Cannot let my admiration literally shine down onto you, through the darkness. The moon is a poem within itself, but even the celestial beauty of that planet could not compare to the music that is your smile.

If I were to speak with a passion as warm and as slow as this, I assure you that you would listen... You would believe me. I would rather not deceive them, but it depends on how they perceive me, versus how I perceive my-definite-self.

Because I may be who they know me to be, but that does not make me what they presume me to be.

So call me strange, call me queer... Just know that you can call me any time and I will still be here, for you. I will not disappoint, nor shall I ever disappear, from you.

Because my heart is a compass and I am more than willing to travel all the way to 'Destination: You'. What an exciting journey! Alas, I can only go so far before feeling dehydrated... Yet I shall go on, for I have faith that you, of all oceans, will have the power to quench my thirst.

You are my seven seas, my poetry... My music, my long-lost lullaby... But you are more than just a masterpiece, darling. You are my sense of direction, for you are not only my art, but my heart... And you cannot help but stop beating, when I hear even so much as your greeting.

You wonder why... Ha. Je t'aime, ma chère, je t'aime... À bientôt, ma chère. I have not found you yet, but I am getting there.
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