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 Sep 2016 N
mickaela
S(kills)
 Sep 2016 N
mickaela
The spark you said you saw
(Within me)
Is smothered, smudged and smeared
On your sheets
The sheer shadows are shaded
And I bleed
Bitter black, bleak
Ink

The spark you saw has swam
In their sea
Of sweet, swollen, stolen
Beauty
(Their art is all I hope mine to be)
Brave, Beautiful, Brilliant

Ink

If my spark could be
A raging flame
If my flame could be
Beautiful pain
You’d read my dread
And understand
The sparks (Infernos)
in my head

Sprouting from my hands
When I wrote this poem, I was feeling very inadequate. No matter what talent you have, there seems to always be someone who is better than you at it. Despite the suggestion of writing in the poem, I wrote this with drawing in mind. I always inevitably fall into jealousy whenever I see an artpiece that I prefer over mine. Why can't I draw like that? HOW did they do this? Will I ever draw like this?
Then the wise one within me speaks a little louder:
"Maybe. Maybe not. Who cares? Why do I want to have someone else's style anyway? Why should I envy anyone? Why bitter jealousy, and not admiration? Why inadequacy, and not inspiration? And I KNOW that those same persons have felt inadequate before."

Thanks for reading <3
 Sep 2016 N
Rebecca Cerrone
I woke up on a ship upon the sea ,
Thinking I had finally found my sailor.
You had maps drawn with lines and X's marking spots of interest,
And I thought I was your favorite treasure.
Romanced me from land to sea, but turns out you are just another pirate looting girls hearts for pleasure.
Capsized, we've been hit, and you abandon ship,
And I abandon my anxious breath.
Drowning in emotions I become swallowed in the waves of tears.
Down to the bottom I sink, in blue oceans I'll sleep
 Sep 2016 N
Marles
//23.8.13
 Sep 2016 N
Marles
Have you been writing since I left you?
Has the notebook on the dresser been collecting dust?
Has your quill gone without human grasp for the past three months?

Have you kept your brain shut off from your constantly screaming heart?
How is your head lately-
you were fighting those demons pretty violently the last time we spoke.

I'm sorry I left you.
I'm sorry I had to do what I did.

I didn't want you to get hurt.
I didn't want to ever cause you pain.
Please remember that.

It's just that you put me on this pedestal;
and I'm afraid of heights


You thought I could fight your demons, but it was never my fight.

I'll always do what I can to help you, I'll always answer when you call.

I'll be the one jumping and screaming to celebrate when all your demons fall.


I hope you're writing.
I hope your thoughts are being put into ink.

I want to read everything if you'll let me;  someday sooner than you think.

Please keep writing,
it scares the monsters
keeps them at bay.


Please keep writing; one day soon they'll give up and go away.

Until then, know that I am thinking of you,
writing about you,
praying for you.


This battle can be won.
But only when you realize, dear
you're the only one who can make your demons run.//
journal entries, you must fight to write dear.
 Sep 2016 N
Alvira Perdita
the sound of water running
and your coughs as you shower
at four am
trying to clear your lungs
in hopes of being able to
breathe freely

i lie in bed, waiting
hoping,
afraid that you won't
be able to get back
to sleep after this

and all i want
for you is
a peaceful night's
sleep
my love.
 Sep 2016 N
Feliz G
Silent Voices
 Sep 2016 N
Feliz G
Don't turn to me,
when you want someone to talk to,
because you never knew me,
and I never knew you.

We don't have anything in common now that years have passed,
I've flown in my life, and so have I crashed.

I don't know much about you anymore, so don't come to me,
remember I'm just a stranger,
and forgetting you was all I need.
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