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still
it is your choice
that truly matters

©IGMS
your fate always depend on the choices that you make
 Jun 2015 Ata
Nessa dieR
Everyone says My arms don't know how to hold you.
 Jun 2015 Ata
Parnini
I am not beautiful...
        I am choked up tears, cover-up smiles
        the kind of light that turns you blind
        from having too less or more than enough.

I am not beautiful...
        I am scratched out scars, burnt out heart
        the kind of storm that wrecks up lives
        creeping stealthily through the night.

I am not beautiful...
        I am not your quintessential girl
        the kind that walks with a perfect stance
        swaying waist of 26" and pretty face all made up

I am not beautiful...
      I am edges and curves, messy hair and everything you *never
dreamt of
       The kind that repulses you by skin, and attracts you by mind
       Someone you'll never know because. . .


I am not beautiful.
Ok. So this is a tribute to all the girls out there who feel inferior in some way or the other to someone else because of their looks. Who crouch up infront of a mirror singling out every pimple, every scar, every curve of cellulite wishing em away.

No, I'm not going to say you're beautiful. I'm not going to say those girls you stalk on instagram and facebook are plastic dolls. I will say, it's okay. Its okay if you're not pretty. It's okay because at the end of the day there is always going to be someone better, smarter, kinder, prettier than you. Its okay because nobody has it all. Its okay because there are other things you have. You could be a writer, a poet, a dancer, a stand up comedian, a cartoonist... heck, anything!

The world these days is obsessed with made up faces. It categories humans into ugly and beautiful then says the only thing that's true is inner beauty. **** that. You don't need that. Its okay to be you. Being beautiful isn't everything. It's okay to be not beautiful.

Hugs and love,
P
 Jun 2015 Ata
Ian Moonsy
I suffocate.
I breathe.
There's poison, there's water.
Both bring Death.
Good bye.
. . . or is it?
Not yet.
Dangerous. Don't go plunging into places.
I lost my head.
Then my heart.
Again. And again. And again. I never learn.
Good Lord -- does He even listen?
He's ignorant.
The drugs aren't.
The buildings aren't.
The knives aren't.
And all are looking at me.
Toxic.
Have a bite. That red liquid from your mouth.
Sewn closed.
Drink me. That burning in your throat.
Choking.
Push me. That chair toppling away from your feet.
Jump up high -- I've forgotten how to fly.
Grab me. That sensation around your neck.
Tightening.
Throw me. That red flower blossoming on your chest.
Stabbing.
Pull me. That cold metal against your head.
Shots fired.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I fell from grace.
No.
It must feel good.
But in fact,
I feel nothing.
Good bye.
Or... is it?
 Jun 2015 Ata
Sebastian Frazier
The world holds no weight .
The sky bears no mass.
In which I see I am as I will always be.
Hollow;
Drifing;
Through this life that means no more than a single blade of grass
upon which I lay;
Observing:
We are but a wall of clouds
Floating;
Waiting to pass.
Through this sky.
A sky that bears no mass.
****** against the cliff
caught in a vortex  
whirlpool of relentless force
pulling me down, down, down
Sound...deafening
Obliterating all sense of direction

I succomb to the waves
****** out, pulled in.
Riptide determined to
pull me under
spared by the mercy
of an upper current that
carries me weightless out and
over the break

Impelled by Grace
greater than the Power at hand
My body finds the sand.
I lie upon the beach,
all fight left behind.
The Ocean claims my strength
No question who has won**

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.
 Jun 2015 Ata
Nessa dieR
Friends
 Jun 2015 Ata
Nessa dieR
Is there something wrong with me?
I meet a lot of people,
and it seems to be going okay

But then for some reason,
I always end up feeling like an outsider.
 Jun 2015 Ata
Chris
A cottage
 Jun 2015 Ata
Chris


A cottage
at the end of the path,
between maple trees and evergreens,
a front porch, weathered boards,
memories in the grain,
summers by the lake,
green converse allstars,
monopoly into the wee hours of the morning,
pancakes and bacon mornings,
red ginham table cloths,
chasing fireflies, sparklers,
hot dogs on the grille,
spitting watermelon seeds, sticky chins...
a cottage, memories,
and now we make our own,
hand in hand as love
once again sits on the porch,
counting stars and drinking lemonade,
you and me and a cottage
at the end of a path...
*love
Good night beautiful
 Jun 2015 Ata
Megan H
My heart was a mountain
So glorious and mighty
Towering above the clouds
Majestic and beautiful-
At least
That's what it used to be.
The wind and the water
Came along one day
Began to weather and wear it down
Slowly my heart was diminishing
As it eroded
And traveled elsewhere.
No longer majestic
No longer mighty
My heart is now only a hill.
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