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 Mar 2018 empty seas
Sam
I thought that I should try

To rhyme another rhyme

But all I can think instead

Is I just want to go to bed
 Mar 2018 empty seas
mel
if love was meant for falling
then we have broken every rule
for it feels like i am rising
as my heart skips to
the love in you
 Mar 2018 empty seas
Peter Balkus
Love isn't blind,
blind are those,
who never loved.
 Mar 2018 empty seas
Frank DeRose
I don't want to hear about your guns,
Quite honestly.

I don't.

I don't want to hear about your second amendment,
Your well-regulated militia,
Your intention to maintain the security of our free state.

I don't want to hear how guns don't **** people,
Or how murderers will always find a way.

I don't want to hear how your right to a gun is more important
Than my students' right to go to school
And come home--
Alive.

I don't want to hear it.

Because I want my students to be safe.
I want to be safe.
I want to feel reasonably assured that there won't be a school shooting in my building,

And right now I'm not.

Because it can be anywhere,
Any time,
Anyone.

It could be your son,
Your daughter.

It could be you,
Who has no more soccer practices to go to,
Or games to watch your child play in,
Or dreams to work towards.

I want to hear about solutions
(and no, I don't want a gun myself, thank you very much).

I want to hear that my student's right--
My student's Declaration of Independence-given,
Inalienable,
Truthfully,
Self-evident
Right to life

Matters more.

Than your Constitutional
Second amendment,
15 years later.

Because it does.

No more.
Never again.
March for your lives.
i have anxiety
undiagnosed.

sometimes it feels like my head is stuffed with crumpled ***** of paper: the things I never said, the things I should have never said, the things that someone never said to me.

all of these things are written on every piece of paper
there are so many right now that no more would be able to fit
yet i can't stop thinking things, i can't stop saying stupid things, i can't stop wishing things.

i sigh I reach up to my forehead and i grasp my bangs
with my shaky hands and pull

i'm hoping one day when i do this
the top of my head will yank open
all of these crumpled pieces of thoughts
will pour out in a pile
on the floor
i will kneel down
and uncrumple each and every piece
i will read each one
until my head fills up again.
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