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 Oct 2013 Brianna
laura
II.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
laura
II.
Their sea foam apartment has soaked up the ashes that have hit their bedroom carpet, as well as the remnants of silent conversations passed between quiet lips. She found him in his Victorian chair that he had acquired from last year's flea market.

But staring. As if he wanted to mold into the inanimate walls, so that glares became passing glances, thoughts and feelings would strip into the air. The very fabrics of his mind would form to nothing - nothing significant. He mumbled heavy words towards the window, his view of family distorted under his parent's clumsy hands. She knew his hatred pulsed behind every memory of "family".

She thought, "but they grew older and so did we".

His eyes had never looked so dull. The reluctance in his face reminded her that she was tired. Not tired of her bed. But of this- blanket of clouded emotions. She herself collapsed next to him, freeing her dismantled wonders and collected pool of what used to be.

In a circle-the-drain sort of way, he said that it's killing him.

Killing you? I think killing both of us.
Hesitating, her voice broke the silence.

"Maybe that's our tragic flaw; we think too alike. If you're tired my love, then I feel the same."
THANK YOU FOR MAKING THIS TREND, AH. <3
 Oct 2013 Brianna
Chris
When I was younger I always used to
see how long I could hold my breath
under water.
I never realized that I was preparing
myself for days
(for weeks)
like these when the surface is far beyond
my reach and water begins to fill my lungs.
I should have taught my bones to survive
on something other than air,
but here I am; driving with the windows down
on nights that sink below 50 degrees,
just so the wind can try and keep me company.
It does a terrible job you know.
It keeps telling me that it will be okay,
but I’m still hitting every red light.
And as I pass by arching power lines
I wonder which ones lead in your direction.
I wonder how long it would take me to get there.
I’ve been traveling around too much lately
anyways.
Nothing feels like home anymore.
I miss you.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
AM
why did I put
a gun in your hands
guide it to my head
and beg you not
to shoot

why was I so surprised
when you did
 Oct 2013 Brianna
AM
Ocean eyes
 Oct 2013 Brianna
AM
her olive eyes swam with desire
as she gazed at this boy
this simple boy
whom she never expected she'd fall for
but who'd worked his way into parts of her
so concealed, so guarded
not even she knew they were there

love was a foreign concept to her
her past conquests were only that:
conquests
simple boys who flitted in and out of her life
and proven themselves to be just as they appeared:
simple

she was told that when you kiss someone
you feel sparks
the earth moves beneath your feet
and you feel as if you can fly

but she had never felt this power
she was told a simple kiss could hold,
dismissed these stories as fairy tales,
and went about kissing for the fun of it
and out of her desperation to become whole



he saw the desire swimming through her olive eyes
and gently stroked her cheek
he felt so drawn to this
enigma of a girl
and oh how tirelessly he strove to solve
the puzzles she created with her glances

"Kiss me"

she loved him
and she hated that she did
for giving into desire is not as simple as it appears
in the romantic comedies
from which she'd learned everything she knew about love

giving into desire means quieting your logical mind
and logic was the only thing she knew

"Kiss me"

he looked at her with tender curiosity
observed the conflict raging in her olive eyes
and wondered why she was so hesitant to let herself go
wondered why she seemed so full of desire
yet was unable to allow it to consume her

she leaned closer to him
the simple boy who had wormed his way into her heart
and he looked at her intently
tried to solve the puzzles she laid before him

she saw her own desire echoed in the green foam of his ocean eyes

"Kiss me"


she felt sparks
the earth moved beneath her
she flew
all those fairy tales proved themselves to be true

and oh, how certain she was she loved him
 Oct 2013 Brianna
LJ Chaplin
The stars look bright tonight. The crisp summer breeze rolled across my bare skin as I lay shirtless beneath the dead oak tree near the lake.  The sky was clear, barely any obstruction from an innocent cloud that travelled down the vast black road that stretched on for eternity. I always loved coming here. So did my father.

It had been four years since he had died. The cause is still unknown. All I remember is the gaping hole in his chest as he... left. So many unanswered questions are lingering in the back of my mind. How did it happen? Who or what had done that to him? Why did it have to happen to him? Why not me? I feared that these questions hung inevitably in the unknown, locked away in a subconscious prison with no means of being bailed out.  Life had to continue though, no matter how unconditionally excruciating the pain may be in my chest when I miss him, no matter how many times I had cried myself to sleep because he wasn’t there to tell me that it will be OK whenever I had night terrors. They started soon after my mother died. I would wake up screaming and writhing in fear. My father would run into my room and bring me close to his chest. He would whisper in my ear “Shh son, it’s OK, nothing will get you. I am here now.  Calm down, you’re safe now.”

After the yelling had stopped he would carry me downstairs and into the garden. The cool air would cause the beads of sweat on my face to tingle. I always loved that feeling. It was the indication that I was back in reality. We would both sit on the grass. Dad would run inside and return carrying a large blanket. He would wrap it around the both of us. It always smelled just like my mother, a faint scent of lavender and honeysuckle. We would then peer into the sky, where dad would show me all of the constellations: Orion, Pegasus, Cetus, and other names that I couldn’t pronounce. “Each of these constellations tells a story, son” he would say to me as I tried to make sense of the jumble of stars that floated in the dark sky, “and one day, when the time comes, I will be up there. One day you will be able to tell your own children my story. All you have to do is simply look to the skies.”

I shook myself free from the painful reminiscence. I am eighteen, these things do not happen anymore. I stood up and stretched, feeling the muscles beneath my skin pull and uncoil. I strolled over to the lake. It was surrounded by thick forest, silhouetted against the black backdrop of the night’s horizon.  Ripples rolled over the surface of the silent lake. The crystal clear water reflected the night sky.  I took off my shoes and socks and dipped my foot into the water. The stars rippled around me. The water was lukewarm, refreshing after the scorching heat of another day that had passed me by. After testing the water I couldn’t resist. I took a few steps back, sprinted forwards and leaped into the air. I crashed into the water, fracturing the serene reflection of the night-time sky. The water cooled every fibre of my body. I let the water soak into my bare skin. I could feel my pores filling with the liquid, the bubbles brushing delicately over my legs and arms. I wanted to stay underwater forever.

I hit the surface, puncturing the barrier between tranquillity and realism. I ****** in the humid air and let it fill my lungs. I let myself float effortlessly onto my back and glided across the water. The stars sat there in the sky watching me. Up there somewhere, I knew there was somebody among them watching me too, smiling and waving as he saw this boy float upon a bed of water.

I wish he could be floating next to me this very moment and enjoy the placidity of the night.
OK, so this isn't a poem. It's a chapter of a story I started a while ago and never finished, but this is my favourite chapter. I've never put so much detail into my writing like this before, so I wanted to share it.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
Kasey
Mild
 Oct 2013 Brianna
Kasey
I am not beautiful. Just simple.
Made plainly of laughter and tears.
I wear knit sweaters in the snow
Shorts in the heat
And a dress to church on Sundays.
I have no battle scars
I bear no cross
I am basic and mild.
But you are a hurricane
On the most beautiful beach I've ever seen.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
Kasey
I want to kiss you softly and often.
Every moment of every day for the rest of my life if I could
I'd pull you as close to me as possible.
I'd grab your hands and put them around my waist
And taste your lips over and over again until they're all I remember.
When I'm not with you I want to dream of you holding me
Against your chest, feeling it rise and fall with every nervous breath
That sneaks out of your lungs
Through those beautiful lips of yours.
I want to lose myself to thoughts of you taking me by the hands
And fight loving you with everything I have.
I want to lose
Myself
In the way you kiss me sweetly and hold me tenderly.
In the way you've already kissed me sweetly
And held me gently, softly, warmly, kindly that one night.
I want to hate you. But more than that.
More than your lips, arms, eyes, smile, breath
I want to love you as wonderfully as a girl can love a boy
Beautiful and innocent until no more.
 Oct 2013 Brianna
Anna
I just want to hug you
One last ******* time,
And tell you it's okay not to want me anymore,
Because I know who I am.
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