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 Sep 2015 Q
gene
Borderline
 Sep 2015 Q
gene
“I want your smile.
I want your arms wrapped around me.
I want your oceanic-blue tantalizing eyes piercing through my empty soul.
I want your kisses.
I want your tight hugs.
I want your voice lulling me to sleep.
I want your late night sweet messages.
I want your trust.
I want your love.
I want everything from you.
I want them mine alone.

Am I asking for too much?

I’ll stop making non-sense jokes to make you smile.
I’ll stop teasing you.
I’ll stop confiding myself to you.
I’ll stop caring.
I’ll stop showing fragility.
I’ll stop getting used to your concern-filled cold voice.
I’ll stop asking for your attention.
I’ll stop trying.
I’ll stop asking for more.
I’ll stop being greedy.
I’ll stop wanting you.
I’ll stop this feeling.
     Maybe.

     I think.

     Hopefully.

Do you want me to stop?”
I’m on a killing spree due to light rainfall.
 Sep 2015 Q
rook
pathetic
 Sep 2015 Q
rook
i hate him.

i have never spoken to him, but i hate him.

who is he to show up out of nowhere, when i’ve been here longer?

i don’t know what to feel.

jealousy? irritation?

he admires me

what a joke i am.
dev,,, haha i am a terrible friend
 Sep 2015 Q
v V v
This years winner is portulaca.
She has overrun the competition.
I pronounce her pour – chew - laka,
as if her presence isn’t already
pronounced enough.

A watery **** in disguise,
she slips beneath a bed of color
when the sun comes out.
Hundreds of little umbrellas
protecting her from the heat,
or rather gathering it.
Like those big dishes in
the Arizona desert
that listen to outer space,
she sways and moves toward
the voice of the sun.

Three colors dominate.
Neon pink,
not glow in the dark pink
but glow in the day pink.

Red,
a red as red as
“B” horror movie blood,

and lemony yellow.

In the afternoon they hide.
Delicate brushes dipped in color,
their daily quota of light fulfilled.

Those not in direct light
still fight,
open and searching,
leaning and bending toward
leftover patches of day..

I see one standing alone,
upright and outstretched,
tall and wiry.
A netted wing dragonfly
hovers nearby.

The dianthus lie
silent among the portulaca.
Like gored runners at Pamplona
they have been trampled and overrun,
their white garment petals
splattered in red.

The roses fade in the August heat,
tired of continuous expectation
they don’t even try anymore.
They will be pruned for their indolence.

Near the garage,
The Mexican heather sways
in the intermittent shade of fountain grass,
Running this way and that,
trying to catch a random ray of light
between the blades of taller grass.

In the corner of the yard
the fountain sits bleached and tired,
weathered by a season of sun.

It bubbles in slow motion,

the mossy birds lie down in its flow,
too tired to stand anymore.
 Aug 2015 Q
Court
10 things I miss.
 Aug 2015 Q
Court
1.I miss the way you laughed at my singing because you felt I always "tried too hard."

2. I miss you giving me the cold shoulder. It meant you cared. But now it means something else.

3. I miss how awake and alert you are in the morning. I miss pushing you and your too much energy self off because I wasn't awake enough yet.

4. I miss your sarcastic jokes that were always followed by a hug and a "I love you" with a chuckle.

5. I miss how silly our conversations were. We talked about everything and anything. You would say "How the hell did the universe come up with you?"

6. I miss the more deep conversations. You looked at the ground while my fingertips drew circles on your back. Your eyes would close and you slowed your breathing. I miss the stillness and that silence. Theres nothing I wouldn't give to trade this silence for that silence.

7. I miss the play fighting. I remember one time someone said "At first, I thought you guys were being serious but then I saw the way he looked at you." If only you could look at me like that again. Like nothing else mattered.

8. I miss your arms and the way it made me feel like I spent all of my life being in the wrong places. The only place, the one place, I belonged was in your arms.

9. I miss your awful jokes. I miss laughing not because I thought it was funny but because you said it and nothing made my heart feel more joy than you.

10. I miss you. I miss the amount of pride I felt standing next to you. I miss the fighting and the screaming and the slamming doors and the making up and the heartache and the pain. It was everything and nothing. It was painful but wonderful. It was all that I imagined love to be. I can't seem to say goodbye but I know you want me to.
I break everything I touch and maybe that is why this never worked.
 Jul 2015 Q
Austin Heath
"Pinnacle."
 Jul 2015 Q
Austin Heath
Dying so slowly they think they're alive.

I can't imagine a word that
means anything close to what I'm
imagining.

Utopia to some, post apocalypse to many.
I had to describe how someone can exist
and cherish a person,
but hope to annihilate their species.

"Imagine someone hands you a glass of water.
You imagine they mix tap water with something filtered,
still drinkable right?
Imagine they mixed in poison, or waste.
Would you still drink?"
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