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It is a midsummer storm, and the air is textured like heavy cream
warm and thick and sweet. It hasn't yet began to rain, and bare toes
grasp clods of dust, the kind with root fibers tangled inside,
and everything  is keenly sensed: the smell, the taste, the touch,
the sound of the wind and the warmth in this charged moment.

It is impossible to not be humbled before these grey clouds,
massive structures that remind you of the roiling turbidity of silt
at the bottom of a river, freshly disturbed by a fish's tail
- except these grey giants, these clouds feel infinitely large.
Humbled, yes.

And powerful: the little human on the parched earth
feels vigor pumping through veins,
a feeling typically beyond recollection
that is difficult to trace to its source.
Where is this power flowing from? Not from some
deluded sense that this small mammal could shift
a single bead of moisture in the sky, no;
where is this power flowing to? Its effect is . . . unplanned,
it is spontaneous in nature, even though it feels so rooted
that no-one, certainly not you, could move it.

This power? The source is invisible, the fate uncertain.

The purpose? Take note. This is faith:
to be so confronted by reality that your inner monologue
forgets to stay in a continuous loop; at last, you hear your part
in a greater melody; to concentrate
on something outside the ceiling of your skull.

Reality will only be itself.
Either project your attention outwards to trust the truth,
or blind yourself with anxiety.

The power you feel inside the storm does not belong to you,
it belongs to the Greater Picture. But, the choice is always yours:
hide away, or raise your face. the   rain
    begins
          to             fall.
Praise to whom, you ask?
 Dec 2016 Annie
Born
Rugs
 Dec 2016 Annie
Born
She lives in a forgotten tone
thoughts of a fairy rhyme
Still taunting her fingertips

Today
the world felt heavier
but
Her pale blue eyes
Always shining despite the craters

She traipsed all over the city
Searching for her lost kick
Stuck in time
with words stuck in her throat
 Sep 2016 Annie
Bethlehem
Mother
 Sep 2016 Annie
Bethlehem
Mother watching me with piercing  cold eyes, your dreams for me were nothing but lies.

Mother suffocating me with your so called love and expectations, my lungs are dying like cancer patients.

Mother who is ever so wise, I've lived my life for you in disguise.
Turning into what I hated, till my lies became too complicated.

Mother am flowed I will be the first to admit, but you are the real hypocrite.
What do you see when you look at me? am not the once fraile girl you knew me to be.

Mother who wastes my youth without care, there only so much a person can bare.
I hear you laughter in my head, it is a sound that I've come to dread.

Mother you gave me the precious gift of life, but all your words cut like a knife.
Why do you hate me? do I remind you of everything you wanted to be.

Mother who feeds on my anger and
Frustration, Like a hunger stricken nation.
Nothing I will ever do will be good enough for you, I feel it in my heart It must be true.

Mother I know you only do what you think is best, that's why you made my life a test  

Mother it seems our worlds are destined to crash, leaving behind nothing but ash.
 Sep 2016 Annie
Chloe Chapman
Submit
 Sep 2016 Annie
Chloe Chapman
It's okay
If you don't
Have the time.
I would do anything for you.
 Aug 2016 Annie
Katlyn Orthman
I
Feel Nothing
Inside My Heart

It
Deceives Me
Again

Breaking Me
So Easy I Bend

Leaving Me
Right Back At The Start
Of It All

This Madness I Hide

It's Swirling

Dancing

Crying Inside

Save Me

From


Myself
 Jun 2016 Annie
Luna Lynn
I am Woman
 Jun 2016 Annie
Luna Lynn
my strength lies beneath the skin
it's inside my bones
it's the sway of my hips
it's the smile in my *******
and it roots from my soul

I am woman, you know

the doctors tell me I'll never be
the nurses tell me I've never been
they say I'll never hear my baby cry
and then God says, "guess again"

I am woman, you know

the pain is a most definite promise
and as I grit my teeth I know
the promise is always unsure
and yet here I stand defeating odds
being what you told me
I could never ever be
who says there isn't any cure?

After all,
I am woman, you know
Today is September 1st which kicks off ovarian cancer/PCOS awareness month. I am excited, and I'm feeling empowered.

(C) Maxwell 2014
 Jun 2016 Annie
Gossamer
PCOS
 Jun 2016 Annie
Gossamer
Four letters won’t define.
Four letters won’t defeat.
Even though they’re forever mine,
Even though they’re not discrete.

Four letters won’t defeat;
No longer are they chains.
Even though they’re not discrete,
I won’t let myself live this way.

No longer are they chains;
They cannot pull me down.
I won’t let myself live this way;
Refusing to sink, refusing to drown.

They cannot pull me down;
These letters, sips of ruined wine.
Refusing to sink, refusing to drown:
Four letters won’t define.
this is about the disease I was diagnosed with at the beginning this year, and my decision to overcome it rather than let it take over my life and define who i am.
 Jun 2016 Annie
Luna Lynn
P.C.O.S.
 Jun 2016 Annie
Luna Lynn
A hammer to the gut
A bludgeon to the brain
Cut the innards into pieces
Before I go insane!
Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome
(C) Maxwell 2014
 Jun 2016 Annie
Luna Lynn
Haiku #9
 Jun 2016 Annie
Luna Lynn
I should just give up
The doctors don't have a clue
It seems they're done too
(C) Maxwell 2014
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