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 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
Legion
Reasons
 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
Legion
For every girl who was a "*****"
    because she said no to a boy;
For every girl who was a "****"
    because she said yes.

For every girl who was "asking for it"
    because she wore a short skirt;
For every girl who was a "*****"
    because she wore a long one.

For every girl who was a "challenge"
    because she liked other girls;
For every girl who was "easy"
    because she liked both.

For every girl who was "fat"
    because she had dessert;
For every girl who was "anorexic"
    because she didn't.

For every girl who was "insecure"
    because she wore make-up;
For every girl who was "ugly"
    because she didn't.

For every girl who smiled
    because she thought she was pretty;
For every girl who cried
    because she was told she wasn't:  

Here’s to you.
 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
Legion
one.

    When she cries herself to sleep
    six out of seven nights a week you must
    say nothing. You must simply take
    her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
    pale cheeks and wait for her to
    slumber at the sound of your heart.

two.

    On the days where she wishes she
    were part of the stars, tell her
    no. Tell her that there are too many
    lights in the sky and that just one
    would be forgotten the moment you looked
    away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
    the way she is: completely human.

three.

     Don't let her think about the scars
     that no one but her can see. If she
     says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
     know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
     But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
     must be the one to do it herself, and you
     merely are there to quietly encourage her.

four.

     Read her poetry (even if you are
     not a poet), the kind that uses
     flowery words and compares girls to
     the moon; the kind that you will
     rewrite for her. Make her a warrior.
     Make her a goddess with eyes like a
     wolf's and a smile like a tiger's.

five.

     Laugh with her the first thing in
     the morning and the last thing before
     you fall asleep. Tell her cheap puns
     that you've been thinking of for weeks.
     And when she smiles - the type of smile
     that could bring you to your knees if
     you aren't careful - know that for the
     moment, she's yours. She is whole.

six.

    Love her. Love her like a fish loves
    the sea or a bird loves the sky. Love
    her in the way that your heart feels like
    it's going to burst at any moment every
    time it beats. Love her skin and the way
    it feels against your own, soft and warm
    and utterly flawless. Love her for the way
    her voice trembles when she can't keep it
    together anymore and love her when she
    holds onto you as if you were the only
    thing that was keeping her alive.

seven.**

     Love her, because some days she just can't do it herself.
 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
Legion
When you see her cry
     you get a rag,
a gentle delicate cloth.
                                        Lovingly grasp her hand
                                               and dab its tip;
                                       dry each tear as they come.
                                                           ­                               And ask each drop
                                                            ­                                   why it'd leave
                                                           ­                               such beautiful eyes.

  If she wishes
to be in the sky,
  tell her to go.
                              Take the sun ransom,
                              and replace its shining
                                    with her own.
                                                            ­          So you can see her every morning
                                                         ­                          and wish for her
                                                                ­                  return each night.

When you see her scars
  both visible and non-
    touch each gently.
                                             And remind her
                                       that each and every hurt
                                            she has survived,
                                                       ­                                 has only made her
                                                                ­                   that much more unique;
                                                         ­                              that much stronger.

  Show her that she
  is a special person
and is worthy of love.
                                     That she deserves the love
                                            she fears to give...
                                            show her so that
                                                            ­                     one day after you're gone
                                                            ­                      she can find the strength
                                                                ­                    to go on without you.

    Tell her that while
she might not be a goddess
far above worldly desires,
                                          that she is amazing,
                                         for just being herself
                                    for being that beautiful girl
                                                            ­                   who thinks herself damaged
                                                         ­                         when in truth she's just
                                                            ­                    a different kind of beautiful.

   And finally, love her.
  Like a boy loves a girl
Till she finally remembers
                                            that that's what she is:
                                          not a scar, not a goddess,
                                             not a star. But a girl.
                                                           ­                         That deserves to be loved.
 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
Poetic T
Apple hanging there, do I dare
Take a bite, as the black branch
that you hang off, warped that
is the off spring of this bark black
as dark as night. This trunk of corruption
that has spawned this apple I now
do see within my sight.

You hang there dark shine, velvet
red, do you hide deceit under your
skin, are you rotten from the middle,
infested with that which circulates with
in this midnight black tree.

My fingers reach out to touch, would
but a feel be wrong, not plucked just
caressed still it would hang from this
tree never picked.

It hypnotises my senses to taste its flesh,
to pierce it would I suffer the fate of those
that littler the ground, the dead fertilised
this earth, is the tree a manifestation of
there hate, this apple not like a heart that
brings life to this darkness, if eaten will it eat
away at me, consumed by the dead that
have groomed this tree, a single apple waiting
To be ate..
 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
WCA
For you.
 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
WCA
I wrote this for you a long time ago on a coffee stained napkin, after you left me, full of love, lingering in a cafe.

"For you, in all your follies and faults and the way they make you so perfect for me.
For you, in the moments that linger in the vehemently insignificant corners and corridors of things, as if drifted of their own grandure.
For you, for the words that spill to the floor and the brilliant way you understand the deafening silence that follows.
For you, for your supernovas and clever shades, for your daylight smiles and nighttime skins.
For you, for your familiarity and the impossible truths that stand as martyrs to say that I have loved you before.
For you, despite the treachery and quiet sinister fun of the world.
For you, for making me so terribly scared of dying."
Yet here I am, in your wake, so full of so many thoughts and demons. Know that I have died, that I have loved and lost with equal measure.
A stranger.
A stranger lies in front of me
but he didn't used to be one.
This stranger used to look at me
but now he looks at no one.
He used to talk and laugh with me
and hold me when I've broken,
but now our bond is shattered
and words remain unspoken.
I look at this stranger
with longing and regret,
Why did it have to be this way?
It's like we hadn't ever met.

There is nothing that I recognize
about this stranger that I see
He looks the same, speaks the same
but there's hardly familiarity.
He doesn't have the spirit
that urged me when I struggled
Nor the warmth and understanding
when I melt into a puddle.
There's no happiness in his eyes
no matter how hard he tries.
Instead he found new outlets
as his soul inside dies.

The man I used to know
is nowhere to be found
instead this stranger takes his place,
I cannot make a sound.
This stranger looks at me
without emotion
and departs with one swift motion.
But the clock is ticking
as I am picking
the pieces of my heart off the floor.
 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
LJ Chaplin
Another drunken phone call at two AM,
Moonlight filters through the window
As I sob beneath the sheets,
A ghost of a boy,
A shell of a human,
Where there once was love,
There is only me,
A loneliness that's haunting,
Slowly I rise from the bed
Like an exorcism taking place,
The floorboards creak and groan,
The splintered cries of a heavy burden,
A heavy heart

You are somewhere I cannot fathom,
***** dripping from your lips
Like the tears rolling down your
Mascara stained cheeks.

The loneliness follows me around,
Down the stairs,
Into the front porch,
Out into the night.
It can take your place
If you let it be so,
And while I run beneath the street lights,
The transparent arms of loneliness hugging me
And dragging behind me,
I search frantically to find a place to clear my head,
To drown out the drunken slur of your voice,
The violent sobs and cursing that crackled
From the other end of the phone.

The loneliness listens to me when you're not there.
It comforts me when you are nowhere to be seen.
© L.J. Chaplin
 Apr 2014 Amber Blank
Tom Orr
Hello.

                 Hello.

Lillies please,
just a handful,
keep the change.

He asked if they were for a loved one

No sir, for Benny, sir. He questioned the King.

With that I turned and left.
As I broke into the outside air,
my eyes turned to the sky.

It was no use holding back the tears.

He slept beneath the tree as his friends and family congregated

To abandon oneself to principles is really to die - and to die for an impossible love which is the contrary of love.
Eulogy taken from a quotation by Albert Camus
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