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 Feb 2014 RA
Mikaila
"You are an artist. This is what great art comes from. Maybe you're meant to suffer to create something beyond beautiful for the world."
I don't want that!
I want to be happy.
I'd give up everything that makes me special
And talented
And beautiful
Just to be happy,
Because the only reason I need
Any of it
Is to survive how sad and angry I am.
I am an artist because I don't want to **** myself.
I could have been a lawyer
Or a scientist.
I could have been anything I wanted
But I can't
Because I have to spend every moment I can
Just surviving.
And of course I love it-
It's my life raft.
Nobody wants to drown.
But would I even like any of this
If it wasn't the only thing I could do to continue living?
I don't know.
I don't
Want this.
When I get up onstage and I sing and people say
"Wow, look at the emotion she can put into it."
When I act and people marvel that I'm so raw,
When I write a poem and everyone says,
"Oh, publish it, it's so lovely!"
When I paint a picture and people say,
"I wish I had the talent to make something that beautiful."
I don't have the heart to tell them
That they are watching me fight for my life
And envying it as if it's
A gift.
I'm an artist.
I'm a prisoner.
Art is NOT my calling.
It is my answer.
The only answer I can find.
 Feb 2014 RA
Mikaila
Running Out
 Feb 2014 RA
Mikaila
My soul thinks it's starving to death.
It's opened up a space just below the meeting of my ribs.
And as I pass by
Things get pulled in- whoosh:
Hungry.
Empty.
It's trying to fill the spot you've hollowed out.
I could tell it not to bother-

My stomach's full of sinkholes.
Has been for a long time,
Tiny inward waterfalls of non-energy,
Pulling,
Trying to **** the world in like vortexes
Each the size of a grain of sand,
Yet insatiable,
Unsatisfiable.
Little pinpricks of "I need, I need, I need."
Gasping in the universe like vapor
As if the whole thing could live in my belly
And I'd still feel incomplete.
It makes me feel like I am constantly a minnow
Flopping on the beach,
Inches from a billion times more sustenance than I could ever hope to use up,
But
Very significant inches from it.

I take steps
And sink feet
As if the sidewalk isn't quite dry
Like it's quicksand
Echoing the way every bit of life I ******
On the way by
Slides through me and slips away,
Hourglass skeleton
With the smooth grains trickling through the centers of my bones
And out through the soles of my feet...
There's an undertow in my lungs
And it's churning me like it can swallow the sky
And stop that clock
But no-

I'm not running out of time
Time
Is running out of me,
And I
I
I
I
Miss you.
 Feb 2014 RA
Mikaila
Untitled
 Feb 2014 RA
Mikaila
I think when god punches you in the stomach, he's waiting to see
If you'll grovel on the floor
Or straighten back up and say, "I will make something beautiful of this, just to spite you."
But then again,
We have never been on good terms, he and I.
 Feb 2014 RA
Mikaila
Lie down with dogs, wake up with fleas;
Lie down with demons, wake up with teeth.
 Feb 2014 RA
Mikaila
I Warned You
 Feb 2014 RA
Mikaila
Lean close to me
Brush your fingers along my knee
And
I will whisper in your ear
With my hot breath
All the things I know you'll say someday.
I say
Run
I say
This is no joke
I say
I will be too much for you
I say
You will want me
Gone.

And you lean close to me
Brush your fingers along my knee
And say don't be silly, tell me I'm wrong
But I say
Wait
I say
Give it some time
Someday you will say "You don't see it."
And I will say "No, I saw it first."

I say
Believe me or you will be in far too deep
And you say
You're special
And I say
*You're doomed.
 Feb 2014 RA
Nadia DeLevea
Why does no one understand me?
Am I speaking in tongues?
Do I have my own foreign language that no one knows?
I'm not that different from the world.
I'm not that different, strange, or weird.
But no one gets me,
No one sees.
No one understands me.
No One Understands Me™  By Nadia DeLevea
 Feb 2014 RA
Reece
the  exposed light bulb  swaying
bare  walls,  light  bulb  swaying
casts  shadows, swaying  illusion
we're  all dead,  never were  born
we're all just swaying light bulbs
from the ceiling it hangs; suicide
the   ceiling   we  hang;  petrified
torn  paper  and  scratched paint
this is the room  we  come to  die
the room  we  came  to  get  high
nostalgic,   childhood   memories
in this room,  they're fading now
-  the times we were beaten  here
and the phantom  bruises  linger
claustrophobic; the walls close in
everythingfeelsdenseunremitting
andheavy , howdidwesurvivethis
thevoicesareshoutingnowdoyouh
earthemcallingo­urnamesandthre
ateningdeathIthinkitshisvoiceour
dadiscoimingagain­tofinishthejob
 Feb 2014 RA
rained-on parade
I am a sentimental freak.

And you,
o stranger,
tugged at my heartstrings.
For Devlin Andrew Harris, as well as those who plan to leave and have already left.

Your words were magic spun.
If only words could heal what actions have done.

Goodbye and may the light shine on your quest.
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