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silvered mercury drops,
flow into storm drains,
like my feelings for her,
just not worth the strain.

cityscape reflections,
neon strobing lights,
robbed of my affection,
mugged in the night.

dark alleys traveled,
ghetto emotions,
liquor store bottle,
erasing potions,

awakened near a dumpster,
somewhere far from home,
will I get back,
or forever will I roam?
Existence is futile,
here for a moment,
then cast out
into the cosmos.

Remembered briefly
by those we touch,
then their fire too,
burns out.

Ashes in the wind,
grains of sand,
blown about,
never to re-form.

But the essence
lives on,
impulses swirl,
through the dark matter.

Searching for a host,
no knowledge of time,
memories retained,
but inaccessible.
 Aug 2017 Luna Lima
mi
Imagine
Perfectly normal house
Perfectly normal girl
Perfectly healthy body
Chaotic mind.
Her thoughts
As loud as waves
Clashing on rocks.
Yet a voice
So quiet
Like a breeze
Through palm trees.
-d.j.
 Aug 2017 Luna Lima
Joshua Haines
Conservatives cannot admit
that the White Nationalists were wrong
"But what about Black Lives Matter.
But what about the Alt-Left.
But what about what Fox News said.
But what about what our ******* cartoon of a president said."

Think for yourself.
You are feeling bad for Neo-Nazis.
They killed people.
They have a history of killing people.
They would **** everyone that isn't white.

This country has become disgusting.
A large portion is defending the actions of terrorists.
White Nationalists, ISIS--
They are, literally, the same.

You cannot be peaceful
when it comes to Nazis.
By sympathizing with them,
you are condoning them and creating more.
The only good **** is a dead ****.
Be a ******* person,
think for yourself,
recognize true evil
when you see it,
you brainwashed *****.
Engulfed in darkness,
lying in the stillness of the night.
My head against your chest, I listen to the gentle beat of your heart
and the electric buzz of cicadas singing in the trees.
With every subtle motion, your eyes catch the slivers of moonlight
creeping through the curtains.
Can a person be poetry?
From Tycho's crater on the moon,
looking at the blue Earth, I swoon,
comets burn across the sky,
where planets and the sun, do fly.

Mercury races with flaming wings
on its surface, heat it stings,
liquid metal in swollen pools
heat and pressure create jewels.

Our red cousin where rovers roam,
perhaps someday we will call it home,
melting water at its poles,
terraforming Hawking extolls.

The swirling storm of Jupiter's eye,
the swirling clouds of the Venus sky,
icy bands engage around Saturn,
stars light the darkness as a lantern.

Deeper out Uranus and Neptune,
into the blackness, we enter soon,
out past Pluto and sister Charon,
where the system, just gets barren.

Into the darkness, the unknown,
it may be where God hides his throne,
or it might just be only dark matter,
but one day soon, like seeds we'll scatter.
So much angst,
suicidal thoughts,
cutting to feel,
the soul never to heal.

Pills popped,
drowning in *****,
the needle explored,
veins have been gored.

Scarred to the bone,
with no hope at all,
gray skies abound,
no musical sounds.

Ominous fog,
covers the land,
acid rain from the sky,
dissolving the butterfly.

Depression depths,
their birth unwanted,
questioning whether God is about,
top of lungs in a shout!

Lost in themselves,
a hole in their hearts,
found in shadowed pasts,
will it always last?

— The End —