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 Aug 2019 Pulse
L
Softly, Softly,
 Aug 2019 Pulse
L
I want to ask someone,
“Will you love me, even like this?”

I want to hear them say yes. I want to then say,
“And when I finally open my heart, and all I can offer you are the broken things inside it, will you love me then?”

I want to hear them say,
“How could I refuse the love you give me?”

I want to hear them say,
“The love you give me is good. No matter the wounds your heart carries, no matter the state it’s in, the love you give me is good. All your love is good.”
 Aug 2019 Pulse
Katherine
Wolves
 Aug 2019 Pulse
Katherine
There are houses on this street filled with wolves.
He-wolves and she-wolves and wolf-whelps howling for meat
Scattered like snowflakes across the neighborhood.
It starts slow, and ends with “I lost my temper” “It was their own fault”
“All the better to see you with, my dear.”
Some of us are eaten up, and some of us grow wolves in our own bellies,
And some last long enough to meet our wolves down the line.
What does it matter if you become the wolf or not?
What narratives are left to us now?
 Aug 2019 Pulse
Shelby Finger
Thick and warm
The shafts of sunlight crashed through the western window against my freckled skin.
“What do you want to do?” He had the audacity to ask through a smile.
I cling the pillow to my guts in fear, but why?
He never hurts me—
Not in the way that a four year old could identify.
(I WANT to watch TV)
(I WANT to be with my sister)

He stood at the end of the hall
Distance, darkness, and my own self preservation masking his expression.
Really playing up the villain, he beckons silently with one finger—
I often wondered if anyone else saw.

The brain is a truly miraculous thing.
I don’t remember how many times,
I just remember the sunlight and
“What do you want to do?” He asked, and once I felt the genuine hope that only a child can muster.
“I want to watch TV.
I want to be with my sister.”
But, no.

Didn’t your mother teach you to not play with your food?
 Aug 2019 Pulse
MKF
Untitled
 Aug 2019 Pulse
MKF
From one
Who says, “Don’t cry.
You don’t want them to know”

And two
Who tells you
It’s your fault anyway.

To three
Who pretends that
You were old enough to consent.

And four
Who asks, “Was it
Really ****? I think you came.”

To five
Who doesn’t like that you said no,
So he ties you down
And does it anyway.

And six
Who grabs you by the throat
And tells you, “Stop fighting,
I’ll make you feel good”.

To those who think it’s good - yes -
Some think they’re doing you a favor

And they’ll tell you that
You want it
And sometimes you almost,
Almost , believe it.

Thank goodness there are numbers
Higher than one, two, three,
And, yes, even six.

Thank goodness they are not
All the same.

And thank goodness
Thank goodness
We can put ourselves back together
Without them.
 Jun 2019 Pulse
Penguin Poems
If want was water,
I would be drowning, my head under completely
and my oxygen quickly depleting.
If confusion was cold,
My fingers would be numb and I wouldn't even
have a coat to ward off the freezing.
If youth was you,
It would be slipping away by the second,
And I can't get a hold to stop it.
Now,
my air is gone,
I'm shivering to the bone,
and can't keep a hold on.
But, this is only a poem:
I know I'm not suffocating, subzero, or slipping.
But I can't help but feel like the more I write,
the farther I get from reality
and the closer I get to metaphor mortality.
 Jun 2019 Pulse
Sam Richards
this is a ****** poem
because i’m not sober

i’m not sober
because i don’t like a lot
of what i am
and what happens,
and what i do like
usually leaves in a hurry

and this is my catharsis
my prestige, my highlight;
i write poems in the dark alone

because happiness
stolen from aloneness
is not a simple theft

and by no means am
i a skilled burglar,
but the seldom moments
where i am alone and happy
are the most memorable,
and the most worth the crime.
 May 2019 Pulse
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

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