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 Dec 2014 Joey
Moon Ariella
Pining
 Dec 2014 Joey
Moon Ariella
But you are a galaxy
I am merely the moon
orbiting your existence
in an attempt to brighten your surroundings
and nervously contribute to the art that you are

if you are rain
I am a cloud
made up of tiny parts of you

my existence obtaining no other purpose
other than consisting solely of you
growing inside of me
to display you to the world as you proudly pour out of me

if you are a book
I am the blurb
a review
a quote of redcommendation
boasting your brilliance
gleaming with pride
whilst simply being overlooked with no credit

but

if I were a galaxy
you would be the higher power that created me

and if I were a cloud
you would be the sun
as you become present
I would merely disappear behind your greatness
making my grey hue succumb into melting into your light
until I am no longer what I was to begin with

and if I were a book
you would be the author
personally scribing sentences into the pages of my mind
hand carving each word carelessly
without any idea just how important the story that will be created,
as a result of your actions, will be

and you continue to scratch away
not caring about wearing down the fabric of who I am
because I am only pine
and you are mahogany
 Dec 2014 Joey
Moon Ariella
There's something magical about the night time
and the way in which the roads clear
in the same way that your mind does

you'd think that would make things easier;
that the complete eery silence would bring peace of mind
with no one else awake to witness the movement
- or seemingly lack of -
on the earth
making you feel special, significant; as though this planet was designed and created especially with you in mind
and you are the only habitant

as though you share a secret with the universe,
an inside joke with the moon
and a bond with the stars

but that's what makes your harrowing thoughts all that much louder

there's no busy bustle of shoppers in a rush to waste their money
on materialistic items
that will decompose  upon the arrival of their death
as quickly as their corpses will
or employees hurrying in order to attend a 9-5 shift that they despise
in order to attain the funds to purchase said items

no businesses or traders
just the constellations in the sky and shrubbery rooted deeply
growing within the cracks of the paving
as though it's natures way of communicating via the universe
gloating, "ha! man can't take everything from me!"
 Dec 2014 Joey
Molly Pendleton
Gender is not a tangible object
It is not something concrete
Which can be held like a hand
Or felt between your fingers
So why do we give it such
Hard edges and boundaries?
Aren’t the things we imagine
Meant to be limitless?
If in our minds we can fly
Or have infinite money
Then why is gender
Some moronic made-up concept
To go along with our genitals
So rigidly defined?
My biological *** may be connected to my junk
But my gender is not
It is not there for doctors to examine
For its’ health or girth
You cannot unzip my pants
Or the thoughts in my mind
To find my gender
Get that through your ******* head
 Dec 2014 Joey
Icarus Kirk
you cannot help but hate your body
the gangly limbs
the stomach that sticks out entirely too far
the freckles that dot your face
you ******* hate yourself
every mirror you look at is a reminder of what a total piece of **** you are
so when you start to float, it's a relief

the feeling of not being you is something entirely new
the arms that are not your arms
legs that are not your legs
eyes that you can't see through

and better
you aren't a ******* girl anymore
this is always the worst part
you can ******* deal with everything else
you can
but not that

because you are not female
and you know this
except
except you are

the binders lying on the floor are telling you that you aren't actually
they love that word
actually
shout it in the hallways and whisper in hushed conversations that they know you can hear

actually

the sensation of being ripped out of your own skin
and then
calm
then
you aren't you
so you're happy

you can't not be happy when you look like how you actually ******* feel

the sensation of being ripped out of your own skin, then
isn't bad
because it's not your skin anymore
it's that freaks' skin
you're not a freak

right?
 Dec 2014 Joey
Moon Ariella
A boy

not a boy, but a soul;
an entity
a field of energy
positive energy
but hidden energy also

he was scared
or sad
or lonely

perhaps simultaneously all

you could see it in his eyes;
eyes as blue and wavering as the ******* sea, and his emotions

they betrayed him in a sense of portraying his deepest of feelings
even when he made feeble attempts to fight otherwise

one glimpse into them and you were graced
with a show reel preview
of his entire life

childhood memories
christmas with the entire family
brokenness and disputes
as unsettling as his beauty when he caught you off-guard

his features were as strong
and dark
as the chaos that stirred within him

a jawline sculpted like no other
hand-crafted for his individual attriibutes
thick, shapely brows and lashes the colour of coal;
a statement within themselves against the lightest of ivory skin

there's a saying "you look like you've seen a ghost"
in reference to someone looking ghoulishly pale
and whilst that is fitting of his porcelain complexion,

he wouldn't have seen the ghost: he was the ghost
that's just how he was
he was never the sub-heading
or the sypnosis

he was the entire story
he was it
everything

something within him was magnetic
and in each person he came acoss
there was metal tucked away
within them that they were unaware of

drawing them to him

— The End —