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 Feb 2014 LET
Lexi Vinton
Please?
 Feb 2014 LET
Lexi Vinton
Can I write you
a really articulate letter?

Will you write me one back?

Will you look at my word choice
and know that I didn't use a thesaurus,
but just the storage of words
I've collected?

Can you smile a little
when I scribble out
a terrible joke?

Will you fold up the torn-out
notebook paper
and put it in your pocket?

Please?
 Feb 2014 LET
Lexi Vinton
She is the type of person
that no one will ever write about.

She's quiet
and the color of whatever wall
stands behind her.

There's something in her
downcast
watery eyes
that says quietly, “don't mind me.”

She makes herself small enough
to almost,
just almost,
disappear completely.

Her smile is hidden away,
in fact,
I've only seen it once or twice.

I may be the only one in the world
to ever look at her closely enough
to notice
the quiet light
behind her light blue eyes
but I know that if someone else had seen it
they wouldn't have cared.

No one will ever give a thought
to this puddle of a girl.
I'm not sure anyone even knows her name.

She's the type of girl
no one will ever write about,

but here I am
writing 32 lines
about a girl
who I will never meet.
 Feb 2014 LET
Roni Shelley
I stayed behind to pick up the pieces
Right before I left for you to tell the tale.
 Feb 2014 LET
Roni Shelley
Be aware
 Feb 2014 LET
Roni Shelley
Clandestine words and actions that triggered
What could have showed
To be a past nearly forgotten
Or wanted to...
This embodiment is gradually deteriorating
They know, they can see right through you.
Roni.
Is this an excuse? Or is this a fault.
 Feb 2014 LET
sabina
Spiderwebs
 Feb 2014 LET
sabina
I sat and watched a bug crawl across your skin
From your leg to your hand to your wrist,
to the scars up your arm.

Scars I’ve never noticed,
Scars that look familiar,
Scars that amount to more than mine.

And I looked to see that
My skin appeared to be held together by spiderwebs.

I felt ugly.
I felt human.

And then the sun shone brighter
and I was a million little stained glass pieces.

A million little stained glass pieces held together by spiderwebs.

I folded into myself and
tried to listen to the choir sing
But they were too far away.

I was alone.
I knew you were too.

Alone with the sunshine. Alone in our stained glass.

I just sat there in the grass,
folding and unfolding.
Letting the sun shine into me.

To be under our skin and
To see the way all our little fragments shone.
I wonder how we would look turned inside out.
 Jan 2014 LET
Olivia Greene
I want to take on the world.
I want to be so in love with the world, myself, and possibly another human- I can't see straight.
I want to touch every corner with a fierce passion.
I want to look in my lovers eyes and see the world.
To look in their eyes when were 80 and gray and see the gleam I fell in love with as a kid.
To gaze in their eyes and remember the world we took on as our own.
I want to experience every emotion a thousand times and feel heartache when I have to.
I want to lay down somewhere next to the people I love…
and not give two ***** about the next day.
I want whomever I lay next to, to know I care about them…
whether I take them in my arms and kiss them with every part of my being,
or simply hold their hand and make them feel safe.
I want to feel the extent of loving someone and never knowing the limits.
I want to be alive for as long as I live.
 Jan 2014 LET
Olivia Greene
Untitled
 Jan 2014 LET
Olivia Greene
I can't wait for you anymore.
 Jan 2014 LET
Lexi Vinton
There was a man
sitting at the end of the bar
so I bought him a drink.

“Thank you, miss,”
he said.
I smiled
and left the bar
being carried by gusts of warm wind.

I went to my apartment
and cleaned the entire place
blasting music
loud enough for the neighbors
to hear.

I drew large,
colorful
pictures
and taped them to the wall
by my bed
to look at from time to time.

I drank an entire bottle of wine,
white wine,
and went to sleep
wrapped in warm blankets
and warm thoughts.

The next morning
I woke up with a smile
taking up residence on my face.

Then I opened the door
and almost stepped out into the hall
before the cold, gray
ghosts
pushed me into the pool
of cold, ***** water.

I sat on the floor
wrapped in blankets
but unable to ward off the cold.

I banged my head on a table,
repeatedly
but didn't feel a thing.

I looked at all of the bottles
of pills
that I had collected.
And I contemplated taking a few
or the whole bottle.

But I didn't.

I downed half a bottle
of *****
and hated myself.

I looked at myself,
scowling in the mirror.
“Go **** yourself,”
I told the reflection.

All of the sudden
the warmth came back
and I put flowers in a vase
and gazed at them lovingly.

I smiled at myself in the mirror,
proud of who I was
and everything I had ever done.
I thought excitedly
about everything I would do tomorrow,
the next day
and the next day.

Then I purposely knocked the flowers
off the table
with my closed fist
and downed an entire bottle of pills.
 Dec 2013 LET
Olivia Greene
I love this house,
the yellow stucco,
    my thinking tree, the one who's tallest branch helped me escape from the things below.
I love my room,
  it has absorbed everything about me into it's walls,
  they made me feel safe, and helped me escape

Sometimes I hate the owners who have shaped and molded me into the person I am now
They are the landowners and I am the renter
Coming and going without a trace and never offering nor receiving a likeness of an embrace
 Dec 2013 LET
Roni Shelley
I apologize
For my inconsistencies
For my opinions
For being naïve or knowing too much of nothing
For questioning the teachings of great thinkers, great writers, poets, inventors of all time
I’m sure that they’re sorry too
Sorry that not everything is done to a certain someone
Or doesn’t pertain to those who toss it aside
Sorry that we all live in our own separate and made up worlds
Feeding off of old traditions
Enhancing them to make our own “new” ones
But then define plagiarism? If it’s such a huge issue
Then why do we do it?
So I am sorry.
Sorry for copying you, him, her, them
Sorry for stealing what was never there
Another old poem.
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