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Unburdens the dusky river

dreams of flow dead in the bog of hyacinth
harvest burnt in the scorch of aridity
ripples robbed by the silt of dogma
sunbeam denied by the **** of creed


I was meant to reach the sea,
now I would never make it.


I pick the river's shattered pieces
with my own from the wintry dusk.
 Nov 2015 Adam Childs
SG Holter
I think I might be too tired
To be outraged.
I want to stand on my head and
Hands in front of the moon just
Clearing the horizon, and make
Myself into a peace-sign.

The only flag I wish to paste
Over my facebook profile picture
Is a huge, white one.
No more. Please.
Peace.

But all I can do is waste whispers

Underneath the raging roars of
Bloodthirst, revenge and hearts
Vocalizing the pain of their lost
Limbs.
Too tired to be angry.
Too dry to cry.

Victims. Aren't we all?
I draw November air
And exhale something like a
Prayer, as my loved ones walk to
And from work and school like
Potential bulls-eyes in the

Eyes of pure, ******* evil.
I'd cover a grenade
For any one of them. But for now
I stand against the rising moon
Like a capital "I", then
Put my dot of a heart

On the ground directly
Before me, looking
To the skies.
Furiously fatigued; a tired
Human exclamation
Mark.
 Nov 2015 Adam Childs
ARI
I was awakened by
Her wailing cries dripping
From the ceiling fan.

Gnarled fingernails unearthing
Every defect shadowed by
Cheaply colored cloth.

Her desolate eyes of malice
Bitterly waltzing across
My 'ever bone-weary limbs.

Maniacal grin gleefully thriving
On the heinous mutilation
Of my once unblemished soul.

Her exuberant howls mangling
My already asphyxiated mind
As my heart yearned for extrication.

Deafening silence devoured
The withdrawn girl until her lips
Forever cradled Anorexia's kiss.

-ARI
 Nov 2015 Adam Childs
Kj
dating a writer
is like guessing the weather.
you think you know what you'll get,
but you never do.

you never know
because

she'll create a hero
from your weaknesses

and she'll write a great character,
from every last flaw.

she'll create a thousand plots  
from your worst nightmares.

she'll take every last thing you hate
and create something you'll love.

she'll turn your anger
into confessions of adoration,

and she'll make you,
everything you're not.

but worst of all,
she'll leave you wondering-
is it you she's in love with,
or things she's created from you?

but here's the beauty of it:

if you date a writer,
you'll never die.
I want people to know that I am not trying to be rude.
That I know that each of you are very special to me.
As well as Christ, you really do mean a lot to me too.
I know that each of you have your gifts as well as Light.
That glows through you revealing God to other people.
Each person has their degree of Light , even the Lost.
Because everyone was born in the image of Christ.
Its up to each of us whether this Light shines or not.
So by loving others this Light becomes brighter.
I am sorry if you deleted me, I meant unlike me
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