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To your own advice.
To your own heart.
To your own future.
To anyone but me.
 May 2015 Essa Freedom
Wing Girl
You said I was beautiful,
But it was just to flirt.

You said you loved me,
But you said that to everyone else.

You said you cared for me,
But you weren't there when I needed you the most.

You said you'd never do it again,
But I counted twice.
 Mar 2015 Essa Freedom
Stu Harley
oh what light
shall brighten
up the
stars of night
until
you hear
a whisper
from
a storm
in sight
If my best friend is sad I am sad
someone cheats on them I feel the pain
Wanna fight them imma be there
My best friend is important to me
Mess with her mess with me
Wanna date her I will watch you
I tell her everything
I don't know what I'd do with out ya
Their everywhere.
People, or not, of shadow they are made.
I see them everywhere I go.
They warn me.
Remind me of what i've been through.
And that my time is near.
That death is coming for me.
Somehow I avoid it.
But death..can only avoided so long.
 Dec 2014 Essa Freedom
Devon Webb
We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.
It's worth it though.
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