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 Apr 2019 Cameron Alix
XPY
You can pretend
That the black gloss
On my lashes
Will glue my eyes shut-
Make me blind to truth;
To ‘true knowledge.’
Go ahead.
Tell yourself
That my red-painted lips
Only spout nonsense.
It will only make it sweeter
When my wing-lined eyes
Give you whiplash
as I walk past you
To get my degree;
My award;
My paycheck.
Maybe if you’re ‘nice’
I’ll buy you an ice pack.
feminist makeup
© KMH 2018
It's all just numbers, isn't it?
Day by day,
Year by year,
Always counting.

Day by day look at the number on the scales.
Let the caloric calculator count until your head is filled with numbers.

Minute by minute count the seconds it takes for him to text you back.
Let the doubt and fear multiply until your head is full of him.

Term by term let a percentage on a piece of paper define your worth.

Don't we have better things to do than count?
 Apr 2019 Cameron Alix
Nylee
After taking my while
finally climbing this mountain,
I couldn't even take a peaceful breath
because I can feel the shadow
of much larger mountain
falling over me.
i always have
the urge to run.

but what is it like
to be a tree?

to be confident enough
to root yourself
and grow with
wild abandonment,
being unapologetically
you?

i'm still running,
but i wish i knew.
 Mar 2019 Cameron Alix
Her
Immortal
 Mar 2019 Cameron Alix
Her
the moment a poet
falls in love with you

is the moment
you live

f o r e v e r
 Mar 2019 Cameron Alix
Eric W
The closest I ever feel
to anything
is to the words I write.
When I am a million leagues
into the depths,
and there is nothing,
nothing to do
but carve these letters
into the floor.
No,
nothing.
Nothing more.
Words ring hollow,
and melodies fall flat,
prayers (un)heard,
another test.
This too will pass,
but while it stays,
while it tarries,
black is bequeathed behind
my eyes
my mind is marred
in manic peril
and I carve these words
into the floor
one more time
one more time
once more.
I hope you fall in love with being alive
That you feel it coarsing through your veins
Pumping in your heart
A light feeling in your chest
And all you want to do is scream for joy
 Mar 2019 Cameron Alix
East Wind
Collections of my disorderly thoughts
gathered together with knots
of my ample desire
to make sense of my everyday life.
I write poetry, however bad they might be, to help me analyze my feelings.
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