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  Oct 2017 NadiaA
Iska
A puppet girl, all dressed up, with painted lips and lined eyes, stands on her toes as she spins and glides.
Guided by her puppet strings she swirls and twirls around the ring.
Round and round this dusty stage she gets up and dances day after day.
The hands that hold her gentle yet firm show her just how much she must learn.
The hands grow fierce, music harsh,as they pull and push her into a perfect arch.
A string then snaps, poor puppet goes loose, abandoned and alone as they tie her a noose.
A puppet girl, all banged up, with chipped paint and bleary eyes, slumps alone as she starts to cry.
Musical laughter fills the ring, as she hears someone begin to sing.
Clanking clattering across the stage, she drags her limbs out of her cage.
She topples and falls tangled in string, trying to find the source of the singing.
Kneeling before her, with beautiful wings, is another girl living her dreams.
A puppet girl, just like her, moving with ease, unburdened by the need for strings.
"Are you an angel?" she rubs her eyes trying to see if this girl is a lie.
the girl before her smooths over her dress, before gliding into a curtsy and saying "yes."
"I wish to be an angel like you, then I could be free to move."
The angel tilts her head, her smile sly, before opening her mouth to reply,
"As you wish it, it shall be so."
then with terrible grace and ease, she cuts off the strings...
and with it she holds the Poor Puppet Girl's head,
her body lays crumpled up,
shes.... dead.
"Shh." she whispers as she cradles the head,
she spins and glides claiming shes been naughty,
and attaches the puppet girls head on an angels body.
And as the puppet girl blinks her eyes,
she realizes she's back to life.
in a form now free of strings,
she can dance and spin as she may please.
then she sees her body crumpled where it now lies,
and with a shuddering sob she begins to cry.
the angel takes her hand in hers
and with a crazy smile and mad glint in her eyes
she starts to sing:
"hush little one,
now we are the same.
don't worry baby,
no more pain.
Now listen to me child,
let blood fall like blissful rain,
and we shall free those who remain,
free them from these awful chains."
beware the puppet masters.
for they will drive the puppets to the edge of the stage,
until they snap,
and the puppets lie dead
on top of the body pile.
  Oct 2017 NadiaA
B Chapman
Eight-
In a general store,
the middle of nowhere.
I stared at toys,
oblivious to the stranger too close.
A hand on my backside,
a rub and squeeze.
The cops huffed,
'are you sure it wasn't an accident?'
'Is it really that important?'
Suddenly I knew shame.

Twelve-
Last day of school,
cornered in an empty classroom
by my lifelong bully.
He tore my pink shirt,
grabbed me where Trump would have.
My father helped.
Did what he could.
Told me it wasn't my fault.
But the teacher,
a male who never liked my voice,
groaned in private,
'this will ruin that poor boys life.'
But what about me?

Sixteen-
A class full of people,
feeling pretty as a rare treat.
A boy with a knife
sitting too close,
hand inching up my thigh.
A malicious smile
with a dangerous whisper,
'spread your knees.'
I never told,
It had hardly mattered before.
But that's the last time
I wore a skirt to school.

Eighteen-
The officer taking my prints
made me cringe as he lingered.
His compliments made me shudder
but I told myself I was paranoid.
Leading me to a cell
he offered me a private room
leering as he mentioned
I wouldn't feel alone.
I almost laugh now
at his offer to pay me with juice.
But a year later at the hearing
his lude claims were loud enough
for everyone to hear.
A court room full of people
heard him brag about things
he never did.
Only one person shut him down
without even a word.
Simply a glare of digust
that I was too scared to give.
  Sep 2017 NadiaA
Grace Darling
sometimes i feel too much
sometimes i feel too little
i wish i could stay in that happy place
that lies right in the middle

when i feel too much
it's a torrent of emotion
a downpour of epic proportion
and i pray for it to end

yet when it does i don't feel enough
i'm numb, frozen, depressed.
I then pray for this to end
and i'd do anything to feel again

so i'm stuck in this happy limbo
never feeling quite right
like goldilocks in the three bear's house
i can't sleep at night
  Sep 2017 NadiaA
Tiffanie Noel Doro
I'm just a waste of space
These things will never change to you
But at least there is meaning between bodies pieced together beneath sheets
You're a cannibal
And I love it more than I should

Finger tips around my neck-
Grab me by the heart until my veins escape my chest
The ache of my body
The pulsing inside me
I know what it means to dance with the devil

There are more ways than I can count to feel the flame
Waiting for a spark to ignite

(C) Tiffanie Noel Doro
  Sep 2017 NadiaA
Barker
Most Demons
Hide in an
Angel's body
(c)ibarker
NadiaA Sep 2017
Ebony,
Ebony is her name.
Quite the character indeed
She moves with such elegance
Skin so soft and golden
I stand by as I watch her take a bath
underneath the beaming sun
and absorb every single ray.
Afterwards, she grabs a clean towel and
dries off her glistening bronzed skin.
Honey drips down.
10,000 bumble bees follow
as she makes her way down the ocean.
She buries her feet into the white sand
and, leaves her imprint.
Her hair stands *****,
as though it had been crafted to defy all odds of gravity.
Gradually, it blooms
and I can't believe what my eyes are seeing.
When she sings, it sounds like 10,000 angels.
Voice as calming as gentle breeze.
A tranquil melody.
With every word she pours out,
echoes the beautiful sound of brilliance.
She's no ordinary one.
Every single bone and flesh
was carefully assembled and knitted
by the Messiah himself.
To her, he gifted an Enchanted soul which would
be like nothing anyone has seen.
If only everyone had the privilege to see what I just saw,
they wouldn't hate her this much.
She has been tied in chains,
stripped down and wounded.
But why would anyone despise a soul so magical?
Was it out of jealousy?
It might've also been out of pure ignorance.
But after this day,
I'll be ****** to express such ignorance.
Now I know for a fact that her level of carefreeness was built on the foundation of struggle.
I think I might've come across a real life goddess.
Ebony,
Ebony is her name.

— The End —