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Meg Nov 2016
she wore her pain like a crown
and she was the queen
Meg Oct 2016
if you had asked me as a kid,
"what do you want to be when you grow up?"
i could've rattled off a whole list
but i never imagined i would grow up
to look just like all the skeletons in my closet
Meg Oct 2016
in magazines
they show you everything you've always wanted:
a trim waist, a thigh gap, perhaps.

how odd -
they must've forgotten to put in
the empty stomachs containing
nothing but yesterday's fingernails.

it must've slipped their minds to publish the
dissolving teeth,
or the protruding bones,
or the skeletal ribcages.

i wonder what photoshop they use
to airbrush away
the harsh angles of needle-thin bones
and the spidery veins pulsing faintly beneath translucent skin
and the "no thanks, i already ate,"
and the "i'm fine, i swear."

it's almost funny -
i can't even tell when i'm hungry or not anymore.
almost funny, that is.
  Sep 2016 Meg
Rapunzoll
i like angry poetry
the kind that churns
in your gut,
with razors for teeth
and gums bleeding.
i like the violent sound
of verbs clashing
on a decaying page,
like the shot of a gun
on a quiet day.
i like the poetry that stays,
that lies in waiting
like a dog in a cage,
words that creep like
voided birds into the
wired tress of my brain,
that pay their rent
like drunken travelers
and trash the place.
i like angry poetry
the kind that sears it's
screams to my lips,
which spirit echoes and
moans for eager,
****** eyes.
words that hit like *****,
giving their reader
a killer hangover.
i like angry poetry,
the kind that leave you
with a smoky exit.
© copyright
Meg Aug 2016
If I sit on my roof
and block out the light from my house,
I can forget that I exist.
I can swim among the constellations
and lose myself in the bittersweet triviality
of our existence.
I can break free from the intoxication
of my life wasted on autopilot.
I can pretend that I am merely thoughts,
free of the weight of a life
and of society
and of reality.
I can question things
and depersonalize
and forget this anchor of a body
and all its bitter consequences.
But,
for now,
all I can do
is lay beneath the stars
and forget.
  Aug 2016 Meg
Little Bear
The size of the world
never changes
and yet
there are times
when it feels
so very big,
or maybe
it's just me,
feeling so
incredibly
small,
so
incredibly
small  
that i wonder
if I might slip
through the cracks..
and disappear
entirely
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