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a Feb 2015
it has been put into words
it has been confirmed
it has been made sure of
and i cannot defy it.
a Feb 2015
i sway to its gentle rhythm,
shutting out my eyes from the hurt of the outside,
allow my fingers to come out from safety,
to caress the nonexistent black and white keys that I
envision on the inside sitting before me
and just feel
*feel the music
  Feb 2015 a
Stephanie Proctor
I can feel the fire
licking up my legs until they are charred,
black as my soul is believed to be.
Screams of the innocent echo in my ears.
This was meant to be my funeral pyre.

I **** myself awake
drenched in sweat, with a shriek of pain
catching like a lump in my throat.
Sheets bunched up against me like kindling
gathered to be lit beneath the stake.

I glance around the room
still feeling the eyes of my accusers
bearing into me, hatred blazing the
path of their need for destruction.
“WITCH!”
Many fates sealed with a single word.

Except I am still alive,
the blood of the crimeless flowing through my veins.
Those flames that condemn
spared no one but me, resurrected from the embers.
The Sole Witch of Salem, survived.
a Feb 2015
I hold it close to me, like it's a precious child,
keep it safe and protected, or is it my own sanctuary?

Stroke the furling parchment, feel its elegant roughness,
as though its power could pass over through my awe-filled caress.

Divulge my pimply nose, inhaling its papery scent,
like the most magical of flowers, just waiting for consent.

Drag my sweaty fingers across the printed ink,
feel the words and take them, all these things for me to think.
I received a hardback copy of The Book Thief.
  Feb 2015 a
Alex McDaniel
Trying to find the right words is like super gluing my mouth shut,
igniting fire works in my esophagus and praying that the seal won't break,
so my throat can implode on itself
and my mind can boil until skin and bone and washed up empathy can't contain it. So my cranium can crack outward. So my thoughts can combust in a crackling display of bright reds and electrifying yellows for everyone one to ooo and aaahh at.
Maybe then you will comprehend the depth my emotions for you
a Feb 2015
there is silence.
i allow it to consume me,
feed on my soundless noise
clutch onto my paper skin,
allow it to cease the crumpling
of a flammable coat, paper-thin,
let go of the clumsily loud thoughts,
let them flow into the air,
speak for themselves silently,
outside the screaming of my head.
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