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TW Nov 2016
I get deep when I'm lonely,
Evening alone no people have known me,
Speak on my own beat, speakers are blown,
Free seat in the row is a feeling I don't reach,

And don't deserve, from these hopeless words,
My only curse is my mind and my lowly verse,
This daily pain is wrong, that's why I need writing,
When weight and strain are gone, then I will cease fighting.
TW Jul 2016
Did I ever tell you about my favourite place?
By day it's ok, but the trace is erased of a night spent together,
Just some bent, dented heather,
It's idyllic, stay a minute, to an hour, then forever.

It's a hilltop dotted with forests and blotches
of discarded lockets, pick-pocketed wallets,
Snapped straps and their watches and trees carved with notches,
A deposit for problems where noise is just nonsense.

A dirt track on the side of the hill snakes like an ivy vine,
Through thick bushes, but I know it by heart, so I'll be fine,
Push the leaves aside and peek behind, over river, nearly time,
Reach the clearing, feast your eyes, silence gives no eerie vibe.

It overlooks the town, and looking down you've never felt so tall and mighty,
But staring up at there's too much, you'll never feel so small and tiny.


It's four in the morning, the sunrise is dawning,
The only tire here involves both of you yawning.
The sky comes alight, covered like white bug bites,
Illuminating the two amazing souls joined underneath.

It's my idea of eden and your hearts will start to beat in tune,
So weave a braid of fingers, feel the heat, let them feel it too,
Take it slow, or make it so you're only his or only hers,
Isolated yet connected, it's my favourite place on a lonely earth.
  Jun 2016 TW
Christina L
***** you.
Do you know what a great guy he is?
Do you understand what you could've had?
He's smart
He's funny
He's sweet
He can break a hockey stick on ice and with the same hand,
write you a poem that will put your broken heart back together again.
So ***** you.
***** you for hurting him,
***** you for pushing him aside when I know he gave you everything.


But also,
thank you.
Thank you for giving him to me broken,
because now maybe I can fix him better than he was before,
like he's doing with me.
Thank you for teaching him what rejection feels like
so maybe he'll cling a little harder to me.
Thank you for all your fake smiles
and your texts that just led him on,
thank you
for being so **** stupid you lost him.
Because I found him
and I don't plan on being as stupid as you.
TW Jun 2016
Am I the parasite?
The leech that latches for days and drains,
The mosquito that ***** and savours the blood,
Do I cling too tight and push you away?
Am I weight that sinks you, deep in the mud?
The weather balloon tether pinned down to the ground,
Superglue poured on the perch of a birdcage,
Am I tear in your plane wing, thirty feet off the runway?
A lead lining to your new kite, recieved on your birthday.

But a bird that doesn't fly can never drop from the sky,
Runway flight failures don't cause a stall and a fall,
A balloon can't be popped by air pressure down here,
And lightning won't strike a kite with no height to it at all.

So maybe I'm the safety net,
A prison tower, but the stablest,
The delicate balance of freedom and danger,
Is something I'm not aquainted with.
  May 2016 TW
Kelsey May Daly
This is no fairy tail or a callow dream
I’m inside a black and white reality
Here there’s no fun anomalies
I can feel the fear that faces me

Bag on my back, plan intact
My breath chasing down this act
Courage compelling me to sign the pact
To seize freedom from a lost land

Each step sparks a second guess
Will this idea betray me to regret
Even with instinct screeching out my chest
Follow the present, forget the rest

Pick out memories to make a trail
Unload all empathy so I won’t bail
Anticipation becomes stale
Just an inch of hope helping me sail

I finally find a forest of friends
A sigh of relief, I breathe in the end
The trees, the flowers, my soul distends
Escaped to a place where my mind can amend
  May 2016 TW
Akira Chinen
Paper planes weren't made to cross the ocean
Not the Pacific or the Atlantic
Paper hearts weren't made to burn all night
A quick flame and a bright flash
Paper loves weren't written to last forever
Nothing more than a rhyme and a rhythm
But then my paper love turned real like Pinocchio
And sold my soul to the darkness below
And my paper heart burns but refuses to turn to ash
The fire growing brighter and hotter everyday
And the paper planes circle high around the moon
Over the ocean to give my heart to you
And now I'm made of paper
And my blood has turned to ink
And my marrow is the pulp to the pulse
And you're now my paper queen
With my paper heart
A jewel in your crown
As I'm just a paper fool
A paper puppet
A paper love
Ruled by you
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