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 Jun 2019 Byerly
scully
I want to write about what hurts because I think it will
Stop me from hurting. If I put these words on
A page then they will be easier to digest.
Poetry isn't curative by creation, it is
Just confession. Still, these remedial
Lines are what I turn to when I am holding
Too much in my hands. Right now, I feel
Like I am overflowing onto the ground below me.
For the first time,
I don't want to write about what hurts. I want
To keep it inside of me and let it burn me. I want
To carry it in my palms for as long as I can.
I should write
About how we've said goodbye so
Many times that it turned into a threat, a weapon
We made with our tongues.
I should write
About how I lied and got away with it,
How you got caught with
Your hands tied and no one to blame.
I should write
About how it was over before we waved the white
Flag, and I know what it means now
To hold onto a sinking ship.
I've never had anything to die for.
I should write about how I've never wanted
Something so much that I devastated it completely.
We loved in harsh conditions, under sun and darkness and
I don't know how to write about how
The love didn't save us.
I don't write about letting go as much as I write about
Holding on, and I want
That to change.
I don't want to write hurt just to feel it.
The next poem I write about you will be
About me. About how I held on and how I let go.
It won't be about your love, it will be about
Mine. It won't stop me from hurting, but
It is how I make it out
Of my love alive.
`
A friend of mine told me
I write when I’m sad
She said it is as if I am in pain
And I said when I write it rains
When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark
And when I stop
The birds of the sky sings
Coming out to play as the sun is out
 Dec 2018 Byerly
Hunter
When the smoke clears
After all the pain and tears
I see your struggles and fears
But the end is not near
Take your own freedom
And sit on the throne of your kingdom
Never give up, you will make it one way or another.
 Dec 2018 Byerly
Megan Edwards
Convulsed veins, strangled for air,
I gasp but nothing is there.
Each sharp breath,
Each sharp pain.
I grow closer
I grow closer to pain.

Weeping, wailing for more
She is gone, she is gone.
The breaths have ended.
The pain has last.
I try to fight
I try for life.

Each small cut
I release my soul.
Each small breath
I release more and more.
Deep, deep down
Dig as far as possible.
Release the pain
Release the soul.

I have become one,
I have become none.
I want to die
I want none.

— The End —