Amanda Woolums

Jan 2015

Ocean Blue

... My eyes,
To mirror your sighs,
I will give you my smile,
To dance with your smile,
I will give you my hands,
For you to paint the beauty
Of the fertile lands
In the hills of Tuscany.
I will give you my open arms
To surround your shoulders,
When you feel cold during the winters.
I will give you my soft kisses
To dry up your tears
On your pale cheeks
So I can chase your fears.
I will give you my memory,
For you to remember
Our forgotten kisses, if any.
I will tell you some of my secrets,
Even the ones from the Pool,
In case you show interest,
And there you would think I'm a fool.
And of course I will give you
My Ocean Blue,
For you to dive into.
But I will never give you
Anything that can hurt you.
Somehow,
You need to know
That I can only give all this
When you come back from the abyss
To which you've decided to depart,
Leaving me alone to dream of you,
With art.

Jan 2015

Elli

darling, grow old with me

You know those cliched romance movies,
and songs that sing of love that lasts forever,
and those poems that make romance so endearingly nice.
I know you said you're tired of it, you've seen it too much.
It makes you sick, and it makes me sick too.
But if it was you who I would do all those things,
and spend my life with you,
then cliched or not, it will be a dream come true.

Our bodies will change,
and my hands won't be as smooth as you were used to,
but we will share everything together, and all the best and even the worst.
And we may face obstacles too tall for our love,
but then my love for you grows each day I look into your eyes
and see the universe unravel.
So those challenges are no match for us,
because we have a lifetime ahead of us,
and thinking about spending it with you,
is truly a dream come true.

I guess this is what immortality feels like.

#love

Jan 2015

Anna

haze

kiss my ribs and hold my bones
tracing the veins along
my lungs collapsed
begging your shadow to stay.

I was a child
dancing in the eyes of monsters
alive, angry, desperate for nothing to settle
to keep moving, to hurt so little.

#love #heartbreak #depression

Jan 2015

Johnnie Rae

Truths of Depression/Mutilation

Depression is not,
a vase of flowers.
It is not meant to attract,
or allure.

My scars are not a sign of strength,
just because I didn't nick a vein,
doesn't mean I didn't want to.

Stop romanticizing such a crippling,
fear provoking thing,
because for all we knew, it wouldn't get better.

For all we knew, we were alone,
we didn't hear about the hotlines,
over the music we had blasting to block out the sadness.

Depression is not beautiful,
it is a chemical imbalance,
it is a one way trip to therapy.

It is a tragedy in itself.

people see beauty in depression and that hurts to know,
because its the reason i can't sleep at night.

Amanda Woolums Jan 2015

untitled

Her heart shattered
like the embers of that cigarette
you just through out your car window.
my heart you just through out the door

Jan 2015

Robert Guerrero

Yeah....It's Over

I'm sorry
The moment you feared has arrived
Like the fat kid getting on the scale for the first time
Like the stoner taking a drug test
Like the old guy listening to the doctor
Here's the results
Yeah...it's over
I give up
You wont mind
Hell I know you wont
Its already like its over
Maybe I'll sail away on a kite
Get lost in between the atmospheres
And all that's left is this little note
So I hope you read this
Dont text me now
I'll be too high to reply
But like all the other times
Its over before it ever started
Your silence was the reply that pushed me over the top

Jan 2015

Robert Guerrero

Hard To Explain

No paragraph long enough
No book thick enough
No poem intense enough
No ink black enough
No blade sharp enough
To even begin to explain
The complexity of her soul
The depravity of love in her eyes
You can see the way she twist her hips
The way she bounces her chest
Just to be noticed
Even if it is by the schools janitor
She pounces around like she's bulletproof
But the glare of her peers
Disgusted turns of their lips
Faces turning upside down
Just to find the right glare of disapproval
Are .50 cal rounds at 10 yrds
They dont notice the scar under her mini skirt
The ones just peaking out from behind her bracelets
Or the one under her flesh
Buried deep within her chest
Where she carved in the initials
Of the one who ruined her
its hard to explain her
But she's too perfect to understand
To beautiful to notice
She's the one in front of you
Only making herself seen by you

I have no idea where this went but it got somewhere. Lost myself in the general direction but its a poem.