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 Oct 2013 Brianna
Chris
I leave the lights off whenever I get home now.
My eyes don’t care much for looking around these days.
My heart was never big enough to get lost in anyways.
They say we haven’t seen most of the ocean floor,
but I could tell you all about it right now.
And that’s okay.
I’m not okay,
but I’m okay.
Even the sea must let go sometimes
and trust that its tides know where
they must be.
Even the waves know it takes time
before they can be free.
I don’t need light to see that darkness
knows how to wait patiently.
And I’m not scared of the dark anymore,
since I’ve realized that it’s just a part of me.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
Nat Lipstadt
Created June 1st, 2011

I am not gay.
I am not straight.
I am not curved,
or warped or woofed
I am bent, cylindrical,
a burnt human.

but not weak, nah!

tempered stronger than
furnaced scarred,
hard-stained steel,
a fire shaped child of El.

The sum of,
the product of,
the multiple divisions of:

my hard-on
experiential, existential
hand to hand
combat learning,
life's red copper burnishing,
and my very own
genetic, tantric
commanded tablets,
my natural earnings,

and I guess I am just like
{you, man}


obedient factotum to the
twists and turns of the
curve ***** and spitters
life pitches at my head,
that end up as
body blows.

multiple contusions outside
worn with pride inside,
I award myself a
medal of honor,
and elect myself,
Most Valuable Person,
an All Star of David,
for having survived
one more battle scarred
game day,

and I guess I am just like
{you, man}


when I awake,
in the raceway courses
of my veins,
the speedways to my
heart and brain,
runs the bitter herbs taste
of fear of how
I shall yet again,
earn this day,
my body's keep and shelter,
earn some table scraps of
peace of mind,
that I may lay
myself down to sleep
if ever so briefly,

and I guess I am just like
{you, man}


When I prowl the mid of night,
the fever of combat fear,
my skin sears,
and there is no narcotic
that anesthetizes
even surficial  
the anxiety,
the ailment of
melancholia
that hallmarks my soul,
the overflow of which
spills over the ****
of my vocabulary

So every new day
is a new year,
and I start the diet
of my soul
yet again

and I guess I am just like
{you, man}


Once I was a soldier
who wore the
black and white stripes
of the uniform that stretches
to the four corners
of the world.

I used to sway to the R&B;
of someone else's tunes,
prostrate fell to my knees
speaking someone
else's words,
touched my forehead
to the ground.

but the melancholia that
sterling hallmarks my soul
never disappeared and
renewal was a gift
denied and refuted,
by the lack of clarity
to which I was not
part and parcel

and l guess I am just like
{you, man}


Took a new oath,
swore allegiance
to the alliance of
I don't give a ****
and acceptance of
the infection of
flawed humanity
inside of me
lies buried in the
permafrost of my mind,

So every new day
is a new year,
and I start the diet
of my soul,
yet again

The first new words
daily uttered,
chanted with vehemence
of an out loud prayer
to no one but we two,
me and you, man,
unashamedly clear and enunciated
not mumbled,
not muttered,
seven parts blessing,
three parts curse,
are these words.

l guess,
I am just like
{you, man}


Found and founded a brotherhood of me and
{you, man},
one mantra,
you and I are just alike,
now we have a new
holy romantic empire,
we are human
{you, man}
slaves to
nothing,
no one
but each other.
How I used to write...when I was....
 Oct 2013 Brianna
brooke
Er.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
brooke
Er.
you

chopped
two letters off
you've changed
(so have I)
but I want to know
why my body still
skips a beat or a whole
bone when I hear about

you.

i've worried for too long over
the things I cannot control
so today will be the last
time I write about

you.
(c) Brooke Otto

Until I'm better.
As I read your letters
Laying softly in my bed
I hold a brand new gun
Straight to my head
I wish she still felt the same way. why did she have to get rid of her letters?
© Zachary J Morsette 2013
 Oct 2013 Brianna
-
it seemed so perfect
on the flawless surface
but not on
the inside
when I
see our face
I have to
fake a smile
trying not to
let my feelings
crash and collide

I thought we'd get married
and I'd have your kid
but some things
are not meant to be
you seem to love me
but our fights break me
they leave me in misery

when you sleep
I stay awake
my heart
it breaks
because
you were
my love

but feelings change
and lovers drift apart
seems so strange
and it's really hard
I thought our love
was rock solid
I guess it's not
© Natali Veronica 2013.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
-
Had To Post This
 Oct 2013 Brianna
-
I let you go not because I didn't love you, but because I knew that I couldn't be the girl of your dreams. As a girl who falls for people easily, it's hard to maintain a relationship with just one person. I love multiple people. I have never denied that, and no, I don't play with people's feelings, neither do I sleep around or cheat. I just never got over the other breakup, I never healed properly, I just pretended to be fine with how things were, despite it breaking me apart. People call it being a player, I call it being in love. Love makes us want people we can't have, people we can't be with, people we are with but can't see it working forever. I feel like a bad person, for not being able to love just one person and be happily ever after. Emotional attachments are easy to form, but harder to deattach yourself from, it doesn't matter if you're strong or not, if you love more than one person, then you do, and that's just how it is. It doesn't define you, it doesn't make you a **** or a *****. If you're a faithful, loyal person who happens to like or love more than one person, it's okay. It's different if you cheat and lie and date several people at the same time. People never think of the difference before they judge someone and it sickens me. Love isn't a sin, feelings aren't a sin. Breaking hearts and cheating - now that's a sin.
© Natali Veronica 2013.

This is me basically just venting.
Been judged a lot lately..
and I wanted to make myself heard.

My writing speaks for me. It's my voice,
when I'm silenced and unable to express myself.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
Eulalie
2
 Oct 2013 Brianna
Eulalie
2
You were the enterprise of my frontier,
expanding wide, new sliding glass doors in front of my eyes like the grand opening to the gates of an
uncharted section of heaven,
Our friendship affected me more than
I have ever managed to convey,
I felt like after groping around in a dark clutter of disorientation, I touched your hand and you held mine in yours for a most enriching, painfully fleeting while,
And every slicing moment dissolved ever-faster the present into the past; time was not the lingering pleasant man with face nose-deep into that rosebush
but he was that scurrying monkey suit hurdling brashly through conceptual space as if always in a rush.
Like clockwork the moment your hand gave mine that enticing squeeze--that little implied promise of adorational reciprocity and affirmation--it just as suddenly loosed its grip altogether and dropped away.
You were the most profound "What If" I'll never gain the self-preservation and willpower to forget, and in my most dire moments of no sense of direction,
my weak coddling infant of an ego will cling to that most desirous notion of romantic ambiguity,
And for that, I shan't ever truly let go of my idea of what could have been,
under alternative circumstances and more suitable factors on both parties' parts,
because I still trust that the girl I was at sixteen new
what it was she was feeling
when she basked in the wealth produced in her admiration of you.
You were the first real name scribbled on the metaphysical list of my fancies,
And I can't manage to forget so.
This is the first time in a while I've written of you. Two years and three boys later, I can still let you conquer my head.
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