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 Aug 2014 B
Jordan Harris
It isn't sadness;
that is the biggest misconception.
People treat it like an emotion infecting a blue day,
labeling slightly soaked cheeks as this ailment of the mind.
The term is cracked like a whip in stinging insult:
weak, powerless, loser, outcast.

It is feeling a lack of feeling,
where one exists in a mental state of wanting to be anything but lethargic
yet finding nothing worthwhile inside
with which to take action:
no talent, no skill, no interest.

It is not only not believing one has any energy
but seeing nothing to which to give it,
in yourself, in others, in the world.

It is severe despondency and dejection,
consuming worlds like oozing, viscose magma
dribbling uncontrollably as burning ***** from the mountain's fiery mouth
burping filthily as is sludges onward.

It isn't sorrow, or misery, or despair.

It is inadequacy,
an ebb of interest in life,
with a sliver of interest to take it.
 Aug 2014 B
nat
And it hurts
When you're so worthless
To everyone,
Including yourself

When even
Your very best friend
Couldn't be bothered
To save you from hell

When those who
Told you they'd always be there
Left you
With out so much as a thought

And for
All they care
You could sit there
Until you started to rot.

{NR}
 Aug 2014 B
holyoak
I don't like endings
These past few days have gone by slow
Like time is forcing me to think about what you did
I always thought my house was too big
Too much room to think
Both a blessing and a curse
I can think about the way your hair shimmered
How it glistened as you told me we didn't anymore
I can think about the way your hips swayed
And when you told me I leave you feeling queasy 
I don't like endings
I don't enjoy the feeling of something good coming to a close
The feeling of falling apart
We were fine In our little snow globe 
And then you shook us
Now I'm spinning around with the snow 
And you're anchored to the bottom
Tell me how that's fair
I don't like endings 

[holyoak]
 Aug 2014 B
Mercurychyld
~ RAIN ~
 Aug 2014 B
Mercurychyld
There are days
when the rain seems
like nothing more
than inconvenience,
and puddles, messes,
and noise.

More often than not, though,
the rain has been a friend,
a companion of sorts.

It has lessened the
loneliness in moments
of grief and despair,
as it shared in
inconsolable
and silent tears.

It has covered me
like a warm blanket,
as it washed away
the fears.

More often than not,
the rain has been
a path to renewal,
a baptism most sacred.

Even the melody
and timber of the rain
has often soothed me,
like white noise
can comfort a
restless child.

The rain can consume
and wash out
and drown,
pushing unwanted
memories and dreams
down an any-named road,
for miles and miles.

For me, more often
than not,
it provides shroud
and cover from the sun’s
intense heat,
inspiring gratitude
and most joyful
smiles.



~ by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
 Aug 2014 B
Taylor
different
 Aug 2014 B
Taylor
But for once,
just once,
I want to be able tell someone
absolutely every crazy thought
that rummages throughout
my absolutely crazy mind      
and I want them to tell me
that maybe I am not insane,
that maybe I am just
different,
and then maybe tell me
that they like
different.
 Aug 2014 B
Taylor
dad.
 Aug 2014 B
Taylor
Dear dad,

Twenty-six years ago
you met the love of
your life.

(Let’s put the fact
that you two divorced
recently aside.)

And just remember
how you felt
about her.
      
You told me,
“I just knew
she was it.”

Then you went on
to tell me that you
just know when you
find them.

Well dad.

A year and
one month ago,
I *knew.
i write like no one will ever read it

— The End —