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 Aug 2017 Brianna
w
73
 Aug 2017 Brianna
w
73
is it okay to miss him the second he looks away?
 Aug 2017 Brianna
Kilam TA
Never
 Aug 2017 Brianna
Kilam TA
I never want to be your "what if"
I never want my insecurities
to shorten your trajectory
I only want to provide the lift
I never want to be your "maybe"
I never want to be your "yes"
when "no" leads to success
I only want your safety
I never want you to second guess
I only want you to know this
I want you to know you are the best
and I want you to know, I know this
 Aug 2017 Brianna
Kristine
i saw him
 Aug 2017 Brianna
Kristine
I saw him
wearing that black shirt of his,
and a tight brown pants.
riding his skateboard,
towards me.

he raised his hands,
signaling me
that it was him that i am looking for,
and that was few years ago...

Today, i saw him again
wearing a different black shirt
and a sweat shorts.
He said it's more comfortable than wearing a pants.
No skateboards,
just bus rides with me.

He raised his hands one more time,
signaling me
and still, after 3 months,
it is still him that i've been looking for.
 Aug 2017 Brianna
Alber
Poets
 Aug 2017 Brianna
Alber
Poets are always looking out a window
As they struggle to get the words right
Revisit and revise
But do not  plagiarize.
 Jul 2017 Brianna
sophia
Chin pointed to the clouds,
her face
following the soft sunset
saddened by the disappearing daylight
as if she will loose a sense of hope
when the sun
goes down.
Pineapple and Malibu
stains the bottom of her cup
that she stole not seconds ago
from the bar on the corner.
Oh my love,
how she doesn’t care to live
doesn’t fear consequences.
Face still scrunched up with disappointment
as if I need to convince her to stay-
her thoughts flowing out of her head
into the skies above her.
She observes them,
Dark blue
Reds
Orange
Hints of purple.
Eyes sunken,
fists full of cloth
arms around her knees.
She turns to me suddenly,
breaking the flow
of her daydream.
Only 18,
hiding behind that baby face.
The only color left
in her big blue eyes
is the white of her pupils
in the moon lit
cigarette winds.
“Do you want to get out of here?”,
the words escape her mouth as she
looks for reasons to stay
checking under the table,
rustling through her bag.
But she’s tired of
knowing not which way to go.
So taking off for the night,
escaping her worries for one more day,
she sighs
and gets up,
only taking with her
the sand on her feet.

Sophia Hadeshian
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