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 Aug 2018 Zizaloom
Phi Kenzie
A voice of the sun
Eyes that shine in the moonlight
Oh crap they saw me
I was gone,
now I am here
did anyone notice
or am I not truly here
Press play, go on.
We press play every single day.
Every single time we allow a crime to be passed by
instead of action
we
sit
back
and just contemplate.
no more
i tell a mirror
promising ill give up blowing smoke in mirrors
no more
i tell my mirror
looking at the reflection as i light another
one more
i tell my mirror
falling deeper than i could ever figure
one more
i light another
crying because these took my mother
 Aug 2018 Zizaloom
Jessi
brows
 Aug 2018 Zizaloom
Jessi
on the days
where I remember why I hate me the most

it helps to stand up long enough to do my brows.

because if I can focus that long, and stay on my feet for those fifteen minutes at 7:10am then I know that I will be strong enough to make it through the day.

it does not always work, and sometimes, I collapse halfway through the right one and crawl back to bed.  but three years ago, I couldn't even get to the mirror in the morning.

I think that's something.
 Aug 2018 Zizaloom
Srijani Sarkar
i want you to beat me up
real bad
please please let me bleed completely
before infancy clots at the back of my mind
don't wait for me to be tired
break me all at once
grind my feelings into a powdery mess
so that when someone enters our bedroom they slip on the floor and see a stretch mark-ed ceiling
to not know pain but just how ironical numbness is
                      and then hug me
like you would a voodoo soft toy
with the scratched leather wings
of a bewitched witch who has seen it all sober
but still can't tell a sheep's wool from snakeskin
caress my dilapidated knees
without once telling me to stand up on my own or for myself
all i want from you is
to **** me at dawn
i'll know that i was loved
enough or.... at least.
 Aug 2018 Zizaloom
ashley
soothing
 Aug 2018 Zizaloom
ashley
a calm, celestial space of mind
where the piano key meets with
the still water
in its dark teal reflecting the silent heavens
and each droplet ripples smoothly
like lotion on skin
water beetles glide across the lake
as tiny dancers influenced by the piano
guiding the waves to the others
the mist dances too,
with the moonlight sonata
lead by the fingertips of the breeze
waltzing to the tranquility of the nightfall
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