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Claire Kowal Nov 7
As if our stars were crossed
Our fate was left in the cruel hands of the gods
Slowly compiling us into madness.

For as the gods stand,
We are the ones they look down upon.
For that is why we change the course of history

To feel alive.
Something the gods will never feel
Her
Her
I look at her standing in front of me;
Her eyes are empty and dead,
It reminisces her soul.
I break down seeing her,
It’s my fault she’s like this,
I am not who she wanted me to be,
I wish I can go back and fix my mistakes.

I let the tears roll down my pale cheeks.
Her face hold no emotion,
The is no string tying her down to earth,
I’m afraid she’s going to float away,
Out of my grasp,
And I won’t see her again.

I wish she can know how much she’s loved.
Her frame is slumped,
I feel nothing but guilt.
It’s all my fault.
She didn’t deserve this.
Neither did I,
But this isn’t about me,
What’s done is done,
But I wish she could have it better.

She thinks it’s all hopeless,
I want to scream that it isn’t,
I know she can’t hear me,
I’m watching her from a distance,
As invisible force keeping me from her.

I want to hug her,
Whisper to her that everything’s going to be okay,
But I can’t.
What’s done is done.
So take me home to the life I wish I could change.
I recall the little white house,
With the navy porch
It stood next to the gray house that was once green
That big maple tree resided in the back
The inside was spacious
The ceilings reached the sky

Up the carpeted stairs,
There’s a little room
That room had memories,
That will forever remain inside the walls
The tears the remained in the floors,
The screams in the ceilings,
But the hope through the doorway
Blood stains the hands of the guilty a nauseous crimson.
From first contact,
To the last breath,
Remains no emotion

Beneath their fine skin
Turning a sickly gray
From the chaos within a human,
To their ability of empathy

We are no different from the animals
We also have a purpose
But one must not be afraid of theirs

For as long as we live,
We are controlled by someone
Unknown or known to us.
Their grasp on reality isn’t as strong as ours,
For that’s why we are above them
I saw that text one night.
I read every line over and over again
I can’t believe you said that
I thought of the best way to respond
I was honest with you
Though my message was shorter,
I meant every word
Once it sent,
I blocked you
On everything.
You wanted nothing to do with me
Why should you know about me?

I heard what you told our friends one day.
I was told over and over again
I can't believe you said that
You wanted me to be scared
You wanted me to change
You cried to them saying that’s what you wanted to happen
Life isn’t fair
I meant every word
We were done.
There was nothing you could do

I know about the things you said about me.
You repeated them over and over again
I knew what you were going to do
You tried to paint me the bad guy
Make the fallout seem like my fault
What happened to you saying you would **** yourself without me?
How come saying you were done with me painted me as the terminator?
Life isn't fair
You should know that by now
Actions have consequences
If you didn’t want me to leave,
You shouldn’t have reacted the way you did

You apparently told someone what you were going to send before you did
You told my friend since preschool
They sided with you
I’ve known them my whole life
They’ve known you for not even two years
Life isn’t fair
I should know that by now
But it still hurt

I saw that text one night.
And I hate to admit it,
But I cried
Claire Kowal Nov 6
If the day ends and I no longer have the rights to myself,
Is it truly the land of the free?
Or is it only free to the straight white men that loom in offices and make laws on matters that don’t relate to them.
If I wake up tomorrow and see I can’t love who I love,
Is it really what Jesus said when he said love thy neighbor?
Or is thy neighbor only supposed to be a straight white Christian man?
A man who claims to live by a book written by other men like him,
Claiming stories of a man who loves everyone,
Of a man who said everyone must love equally
But why do these men not follow the simple rule from the book they revolve their lives around?
Is it that hard to love each other?
To love me?
A pained fifteen-year-old girl who wants to love someone and be loved,
Yet the rights of being a girl and the rights of love are ripped out of my torn and blistered hands and handed to the boy next to me who already has his own rights of living.
Is my life worth less than the next person because I might not marry a man?
That I might need to save my life by having an abortion after I’m ***** by the same men who claim they know me and my body?
At least my struggles aren’t as intense as my friends,
But is that a good thing?
No.
My rights might become limited,
But theirs might be truly gone
If the sun breaks the horizon and I lose everyone and everything I’ve ever known,
Will my home of the brave no longer be a home to those who fall into the categories of failure?
The work I’ve created, we’ve created, might be destroyed once the ticks of the tallies grow.
this is referencing the us election
Claire Kowal Nov 8
The hands on the clock reflect nothing more than  a concept
My hands aren’t meant to keep everything on a schedule
My bones don’t bend like the rest
The eye of the world doesn’t see its flaws
With the light fading,
As everything stills,
I realized something.
Maybe I wasn’t cut out for living
But I know better than to give up.

I don’t face danger head on,
The use of my mind will get me by,
Because I can’t be reckless,
My life is on the line,
And I play a fair game.

So when my pawn becomes a king,
and I obtain power,
I will dominate in my field of life
The flowers around will bloom,
And the earth will course through our veins.

For my casket will be bare until I decide I’m going to reside
I will find a new place to call home in the meantime,
But when I watch the moon fall,
The tears will follow
For I stand in my wake,
Of a stream I have yet to experience.
Claire Kowal Nov 8
Heat and hearth give birth to the pain of the people
Burning down whatever was created
Blowing away the ash left behind from memories
The wind whispering tyranny into the ears of the leaders
Portraying violence among the people we once called friends
The understandings of a mind get burned
Causing strain in society

There is no more room for hope
The noose is around our necks
We are getting whipped into place
One foot out of line and we’re gone
The fear coursing through our veins should be replace with anger
Anger towards those who wrong us
The ones who decide what we can and can’t do
The ones who say they’re doing it in the name of God
Well, I hate to break it to you
There is no God,
There is no one coming for us except ourselves
I stare at the lonesome creature in the mirror;
The dull blue eyes share stories,
But they will never be told again.
The sickly pale skin yearning for the light,
The cracked lips that remained in a frown,
Limbs that looked out of place,
Hair that was wild in the worst way,
The clothes that felt like they never fit,
Was this who I was supposed to be?
Claire Kowal Nov 9
As the gods spew their inchor across the sands of time,
The ones who were deemed unworthy must revolt
Leaving nothing but ash and dust in the path of those who deserve it

Once the world comes to a halt and the flames subside,
There will only be room for improvement of society as we know it.
So don't be afraid if your knife is dull,
For once what was broken mustn’t be fixed,
Instead given new purpose if all what was given

We are the ones worthy of fame and fortune,
Yet the time for us to reign hasn’t rose like the sun
But one must watch the moon leave in order to obtain sight of the sun
Us too want nothing more that power
Tyranny has left its ****** hands on our backs,
Giving support to the blind

New doors await on the other side
Yet no one dares to take the leap
We are cowards among the gods
If we want to keep our heads,
We must let go of our souls
But keep your courage,
For that is the strongest thing of all

— The End —