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  Dec 2014 Tuesday Pixie
Conor Oberst
It was in the March of the winter I turned seventeen
that I bought those pills I thought I would need.
And I wrote a letter to my family.
Said, "It's not your fault and you've been good to me.
Just lately I've been feeling like I don't belong;
like the ground's not mine to walk upon."

And I've heard that music echo through the house
where my grandmother drank by herself.
And I sat watching a flower as it was withering.
I was embarrassed by its honesty.
So I'd prefer to be remembered as a smiling face,
not this ******* wreck that's taken its place.

So please forgive what I have done.
No, you can't stay mad at the setting sun,
because we all get tired, I mean eventually.
There is nothing left to do but sleep.

But spring came bearing sunlight;
those persuasive rays.
So I gave myself a few more days.
My salvation, it came quite suddenly
when Justin spoke very plainly.

He said, "Of course, its your decision,
but just so you know,
if you decide to leave, I soon will follow."

I wrote this for a baby that has yet to be born.
My brother's first child.
I hope that womb's not too warm,
because it's cold out here
and it'll be quite a shock
to breathe this air,
to discover loss.

So I'd like to make some changes
before you arrive,
so when your new eyes meet mine
they'll see no lies.
Just love.

I will be pure.
I know I will be pure.
Like snow.
Like gold.
  Dec 2014 Tuesday Pixie
Conor Oberst
Why do you lay in the grass?
Why do you lay there?
Don't you want to be found?
Why do you lay in the grass?
Why do you lay there?
Don't you want to be found?
Why do you lay in the grass?
Why do you lay in the grass?
Don't you want that?
Don't you want that?
Don't you want that?
Isn't the sun even going to try to find a hole in the clouds?
Isn't the sun even going to try to find a hold in the clouds?
Isn't it even gonna try?
Isn't it even gonna try
to find a hole in the clouds?
Isn't it even gonna try?
Why won't it try, then?
Why do you lay in the grass?
Why do you lay there?
Don't you want to be found?
Why do you lay so low in the grass?
Why do you lay there?
Don't you want to be found?
Why do you lay in the grass?
Why do you lay in the grass?
Don't you want to be found?
Don't you want to be found?
I thought that you wanted that.
  Dec 2014 Tuesday Pixie
Tony Scallo
Into
a body
 of water
  we fall
                                                            ­                                      Much
                                                            ­                                   b i g g e r
                                                                ­                               than our
                                                             ­                                      own
                                        We
                                      fall in
                                   all shapes
                                    and sizes                        And
                                ­       carry                         with us
      The                                                     ­   ideas that are
    fused                                                    ­    together and
  make up                                                        what we
   are on a                                                           grand­
    scheme                          Of                          ­  
                                        things,
              ­                      we splatter
                                     and splash
                                      spreading
                                          what                                                  We
                                                              ­                                     carry
                                                           ­                                    to become
                   One                                    ­                                    within
              the bigger                                                           ­          body
          that we make                             Up
               what we                               were a
                  part                               of all along,
                                                          ­  we are
                                                             dro­ps
                              We
                           fall for                                                            An­
                        eternity it                                                        feels
 ­                      until finally                                                  we're at
                         the place                                                  we call home
                                                            ­                              in our ocean
                                                           ­                                   at peace
__________________­
             To become one within what we've been a part of all along
Read from left to right
Tuesday Pixie Nov 2014
The tears leak out
Even though I don’t want them to.
They pour down my cheeks
Rivers of pain
Is it worth being upset over?
I don’t even know
I never know.
I’m stressed or tired
Or maybe both;
Or do I actually have a reason for this sadness?
A reason that makes my sadness reasonable?
You should have a bath, or something, I tell myself
And soak in your own filfth
The sarcastic voice replies. But it’s not funny, this time
The way it usually is.
Found in the archives
Tuesday Pixie Nov 2014
He glared
Anger and frustration and sorrow
                                                       Brow creased
Against the poverty, the greed, the lust, the manipulation, the absolute fakeness of it all
                                                        Brow­ creased
As if to ward it all away
But it doesn't help
                                                        Brow­ creased
So he lashes out.
                                                    
Blames me, blames her, him, anything, shoves his pain forwards

I catch it. I curl up. Let it escape in tears and sorrow.
                                                        But you can't stand it long.
And I catch it.
                                                        You can't fend it off
And I can't keep catching
                                                        ­You slip
I can't catch you
                                                        You fall
I can't catch you
                                                        You'­re gone.
                                                      
                                                        You're gone

I am left with stale feelings
In this moment set a blaze
How can one make peace with a world so harsh?
Today I feel a kinship
A deep connection
- Understanding, as I so often have since your sudden departure, the dark resentment you held against this world.
Happy remember Luke day. See you next November.
Tuesday Pixie Nov 2014
He tosses his head side to side in his car seat
Looks to me then
A wail escapes as he throws his face away
Anger? Frustration? Anguish?
"He's crying for all of us"
I muse
"Thank you for crying for all my sorrows"

His dad rattles off the latest news-
Rapes and murders, gangs, he died, she died-
And points out the car accidents
Driving closer to look
"How'd they crash through there?!
He's gone right through the fence!"

He looks at me now
Big blue eyes
And I'm sober
- No silly faces or scruffy toys to offer him this time -
Instead I simply gaze back.
We stay for a while
Serious gazes met
Mine says -
This world is cruel
People do horrible things
We think we're better than everyone else
We slander difference
There is so much pain
So much suffering
You're going to go through a lot
And I'm sorry for that
And I'm sorry for my own hardships
But you will be strong.
You are beautiful
And kind
And intelligent - I can tell already -
And you are strong.
This place is beautiful too,
See that.
Live for that.

His eyes replied:
I know. I see it.
I understand.

Then he tosses his face away.
Overcome,
Voices mingling around me offering nothing but suffering,
I rest my face in my palm.
Then - a light touch on my elbow
I look up
His eyes bear into mine
His hand outstretched
I offer a finger
He clasps it tight
And falls into slumber deep.
  Nov 2014 Tuesday Pixie
BB Tyler
slow formation of thoughts
the crystallization of metaphor
like smoke
like making rainbows
into everything

breaking white light
into color
in the
black

free-floating subjective
realities
convect around and through
an empty space

the objective objective
purpose pole-star
centering concentric
star flung
peoples
all watching
the light that seems to shine
from the void-hole in the
galactic middle

great bending
spectral lender of
experience
Hare Krshna
Om Namo Shvaya
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