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 Jul 2018 Merida
Yue Wang Yitkbel
Before I met you

I was merely an unaging larva

Adept at hiding

Terrified of living

That always closed itself in.


It wasn't until you suddenly rushed in

that I finally gathered up the courage

The desire, the hope, the need

To burst from my suffocating casing

And flew right to thee,

Thinking you were just like me.

But when I did,

I saw what I didn't want to see

I saw the fragile mirror

That your kind eyes were reflecting

And found myself to be

Not the beautiful butterfly I was expecting

But an ordinary worker bee.


So I worked and worked

With my every breath

Persevered for you to notice me

Pleaded that you stay with me

Instead you flew away from me

And the wind under your wings

Carried away every little thing

Sunshine, earth, and rain

Till I finally withered in Spring

Till I finally accepted my fate and gave in

Became a drop of honey

Content just to be

The unseeable sweetness in that warm cup of tea,

I used to see you land in.
The Metamorphosis of a Bee

By: Yitkbel

Sunday, October 1, 2017
 Jul 2018 Merida
Lauren Johnson
I see now
That you didn’t break my heart
I broke it
When I gave it to you
And expected you to catch it
I won’t make the same mistake again
 Jul 2018 Merida
Jamie
Maybe
 Jul 2018 Merida
Jamie
Maybe 10 years from today,
Maybe only 1 year away,
Or even just 1 day,
I will be able to say...
Words that should be said
 Jul 2018 Merida
caitlin
hypocrite
 Jul 2018 Merida
caitlin
i preach about self love
when it’s something i lack
i tell you to hold on
when i’m not sure i can
i comfort your worries
while mine cloud over me
i encourage you to take care of yourself
while i struggle to stand
i teach you to love what you see in the mirror
while i can’t even look into mine
 Jul 2018 Merida
Blade Maiden
I take my imaginary pen
I write down my anger
I close my eyes and count to ten
just to breathe a little longer

It's laughable really
when I see you justifying
Sure, you're all touchy-feely
only goodwill, so hard-trying

When you said that to me
where was your heart at?
Why calling me your better-half-to-be
when all you wanted was a shoulder pat?

Oh you, with your wonderful poetry,
oh, lies so beautifully written down
please just stop, you don't know no poverty
in your emerald sea everything you wanted me to believe is to drown

I never thought you would make me think
the worst of you instead
And I swear I could only stand and stare and shrink
when you didn't care to lose your head

Now you haunt me like the headless horseman
and you will forever
but I do not worry for my sanity, oh boy of thoughts turned cyan
I walked with ghosts before and a headless one is so less clever

And if you ever come back looking for this head of yours
Think twice, try a little bit harder wannabe
It might stick out of the sand at your emerald sea shores
Your love for me was never poetry
 May 2018 Merida
Anivas Forrester
Time of death:
3:44.
When you told me you don't love me anymore.
Place of death:
The park where we met,
on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
I remember the dreaded words which escaped your lips,
the heat in your words,
the look on your face,
as I took a metaphorical bullet to the chest;
it hurt like Hell.
Cause of death:
You.
When you stabbed me in the heart for the first
and last time.
A fatal blow.
But in the coroner's office,
all the report will ever show is:
time of death:
3:44.
Cause of death:
Trauma to the chest.
When your heart gets broken by someone, it feels like you've been struck in the chest. The air feels like it's been knocked right out your lungs and you feel as though you can't breathe. You feel a mixture of emotions all blurred into one mess. You play the final exchange in your head over and over again, and each time it gets harder and harder. Heartbreak. It feels like you've been stabbed in the back and shot in the chest all at once.
 May 2018 Merida
Erica
never trust a poet's words
they sound sweet at first
but you'll notice the emotion in their words
it all sounds too...
fake
"i love you like the sea loves the shore"
becomes too scripted
you hear the small tinge of love actually left in their voice
hoping
hoping it could mean something
but it doesn't
it never does
it's just the way they say it
one day, after they have left
you will find their poems, and they will be the exact words that they had said to you
once long ago
please understand this poem is in a way just me talking to myself, reminding me to not trust a man who i once loved, thank you
 May 2018 Merida
Natasha
Why I Write
 May 2018 Merida
Natasha
I could never tell you
exactly what's going on inside my head,
so I'll write instead.
Drown my thoughts in paper & lead.
Keep my hands alive,
and my expression dead.
 May 2018 Merida
loggi
Phonetic
 May 2018 Merida
loggi
Do you play the piano,
As my hands start sinking low
I need a melody now
Because the keys I don’t know.

I woke up in the nighttime,
To thoughts I wish not to speak
And I wonder possibly
If you can provide to me
Some sort of relief.

I need a tonic,
A strong base note clear.
Loud please.
My ears are weak here.

I don’t want a major,
Or a minor chord chime.
I don’t need your sympathy
A symphony would be fine

Can you play me that melody
To the words I’ve forgotten
You know, “Dum dee da?”
No… This happens often.

Well, just play it.
What? No, whatever you want.
STOP.
I’ll do it, I’ve had enough.

Do I play the piano?
Years ago, I guess I did.
But my hands don’t know the keys
So I close the keyboard lid.

Do you play the piano?
I ask myself again.
Years…
I stopped when?
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