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 Apr 2018 Cadence
Hailey James
Are my dreams premonitions?
Or are they the bed time stories
I’ve created from fiction?
Maybe I’ve learned to fall asleep
to the comfort of the idea of you.

Truly and honestly,
My stories bring us closer,
Because in these tales
We’ve never hurt each other,
And forgiveness came easy
to the both of us.

Please let the pain end.
Have I not suffered enough
Under the power your touch once had on me?
Faded but still ruling like a king?
Scarred into my skin forever,
As my daily reminder?

I want to have faith in the world,
That what’s meant to be will be,
And one day my stories will be brought to life
In true motion picture format,
Tactile for us to touch,
But very unrealistic.

Don’t tell me I have to forgive you now.
My pride could never handle it.
To look into your eyes again,
And say the words you don’t ever deserve to hear.
Not from my lips to yours,
Not from my heart to your bones.

Rid me of these thoughts impure
Of *** and ****** and you,
And of all the sleepless nights we spent together
hand in hand like I had always hoped,
And like I continue to hope and dream
about.

How are you still on my mind?
Knowing full well that you don’t deserve
A place in my thoughts,
Not even a single second.
How does your memory remain so fresh?
I haven’t seen you around lately.

Do I want to talk to you?
Or the you I once knew?
Does it really matter though?
No matter the man I end up seeing,
Each and every time
I will always remember you the same.

Are my dreams premonitions?
Wishful thinking or a prophecy?
And whatever is about to happen
Will be both good and bad.
Just like the anger will carry over,
So will the love.

Tell me I’m right.
God tell me I’ve got it all right.
Let the world work in my favour for once,
Let the universe do what it was made to do,
And let fate create what was made to be.
Surely it cant end like this for us.
 Apr 2018 Cadence
alex
i’m not sure that my body
knows how to handle
excitement or fear
but on the bright side
i think i’ve found a way
to cope with the answers to questions
i still don’t know how to ask.
i really do love myself sometimes.
just some thoughts i’m having before i head to a party. life really is good to me most of the time.
 Apr 2018 Cadence
V
P i e c e s
 Apr 2018 Cadence
V
Even the planets aren't perfectly aligned,
How can you expect yourself to be?

Being in pieces doesn't make you any less beautiful.
2 AM thoughts.
 Apr 2018 Cadence
Grand Piano
Steps
 Apr 2018 Cadence
Grand Piano
Step 1: Get out of bed
Step 2: Look in the mirror
Step 3: Practice your smile
Step 4: Eyedrops to hide the red eyes
Step 5: Conceal the dark circles
Step 6: Breathe
The curtains are almost up
Step 7: Lock down the pain
Step 8: Ignore the weight on your chest
Step 9: Silence the screams inside of your mind
Step 10: Choke down the sobs
Step 11: Ignore the stinging in your eyes
Step 12: Swallow past the tightness in your throat
You’ve put on this show a million times
Step 13: Don’t let them see
Times up. Curtains up. Camera rolling
You know how when you’re not ok but you try so hard to pretend you’re ok that it becomes a ritual
 Apr 2018 Cadence
Hannah Marr
adjective

1. i never asked to be like this, consumed utterly. when i run out of ink i dip my quill in my own veins and scratch out beautiful, ethereal, unutterable words in crimson. passion and pain are interchangeable in my mind, each one bleeding into the other and through each other.

2. words forge my palace and my prison. i compose poetry and story and power, like a creature possessed. my pen flies across the page, like it has a mind of its own.

3. i run out of space on the page in front of me, filling my notebook, filling innumerable napkins at various cafés with half-formed thoughts and unintelligible scribbles. i ink 3am inspirations and epiphanies on my skin, up and down my arms, a living testament to my obsession, my mania.

4. i must move mountains and i have a teaspoon for a *****.

h.f.m.
 Apr 2018 Cadence
Kwamé
Passion
 Apr 2018 Cadence
Kwamé
Time and time again
I hear mumbling,
Rumors of someone,
Planning on settling
Down

Waking up early,
Finding an apartment,
Applying to school,
Getting that promotion

As soon as this check clears
Once I get this job,
When my car gets fixed
I'll get it done...

It cannot be
Ignored

You should feel that
Inner rumbling
That burning
Desire for success

But it's simple
You got it
Or you don't
 Apr 2018 Cadence
Mister Granger
I know why the caged bird sings.

It's not because his song
is as vibrant
as his feathers, that he plucks away
each day because he doesn't
feel beautiful.

It's not because of the majesty
that exist in the freedom
of being able to spread his wings
though he knows
he'll never rise to the occasion.

He sings because he believes
that this cage
was made for a king
because he has never tasted
freedom with a side order of skies.

He's never flown past the sun
on a cool morning
or hung with the moon
on a warm night.

He's only ever known
the comfort of a prison
that his thoughts have
become accustomed
to calling home.

He would never venture
beyond the "welcome" mat
because what's beyond the threshold
holds no promise
the way these bars and metal locks do.

He sings because he knows
that no one is listening
so if he makes a mistake
he doesn't have to live with the regret
or embarrassment of knowing that he missed his note.

The caged bird
never believes that he's caged
because behind these walls
he's safe
and he prefers it this way.

I know why the caged bird sings.
A twist on a title by one of my favorite authors...
 Apr 2018 Cadence
False Poets
there is no value in a poem that reads
_____
_____
____­
M M l i f e s u c k s x x x n o p o e m i g o t

just

nerve; crap bs, a denial of craft

seek the intelligent intelligible,
kiss the sensational thrill that
emotion harvests with resonating tenses
that beg our brains to differ, sense

this claims,
there is no value in no words is
a hoax cloaked as art by the weak,
make thy metaphors metastasize,
my every cell, a preposition,
preposterous and precious and
comforting in their
privations and provocations

speak to us in alpha and
line our eyes wide,
with pictures at an exhibition
of a faun immobile and beauteous

let me hang on every word of yours and
let it be the raft that sees me happily
unsafe home

take your bs line poem  
shove it down your silent voice

this is not avant garde; this is insulting

p.s.  write me a smile and all will be_____
.
 Apr 2018 Cadence
CA Smith
Brick
        By
            Brick
A house is built
Hour
        By
            Hour
The house becomes a home
Day
        By
            Day
The home turns into memories
Year
        By
            Year
The memories turn into people
Century
        By
            Century
The people turn into stories
Story
        By
            Story
Stories turn into legends
Legend
        After
            Legend
History is changed
Piece
        By
            Piece
Lives are changed
Person
        By
            Person
Love is spread
One Love
        After
            Another
Bricks are purchased
That build houses
That turn into homes
That create memories
That turn into people
That turn into stories
That turn into legends
That change history
And it all started with
Just. One. Brick.
Sometimes it's tough when you are just laying bricks to see the end picture, but it makes a difference in the end! It can be so easy at times to feel like we aren't doing enough to help others or to grow ourselves, but one ripple affects the entire pond.
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