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 Sep 2018 Mae
Lizzie
Sweet nothings
 Sep 2018 Mae
Lizzie
You said you loved my eyes my smile at night,
You could look at them forever...
You whispered sweet compliments in my ear,
Though I never believe it.
I love the way you make me feel...
Like for the first time in my life I can breathe,
Feeling you hold me close half asleep,
Makes me think maybe there really is such thing as peace....
Not finished..
 Sep 2018 Mae
emnabee
Away
 Sep 2018 Mae
emnabee
Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.
 Sep 2018 Mae
s
It was something small. In an effort to persuade me you said:
“I barely ever ask you for anything!”
Later you revealed that you felt bad, and that you didn’t mean it threateningly.
I chose my words carefully in my reply.
“I know you didn’t mean it that way.”
Because you didn’t. You never do. But it happens anyways. You are unaware of it, I think.
You’re unaware of how much you ask of me everyday.
Just by being you. Just by being us.
In every stinging word, you ask of me to ignore the hurt, because that’s easier than changing.
In asking me to bear the weight of who you are, and what you plan to do with yourself.
By asking me to be someone I’m not, to be someone that fits you.
“I barely ever ask you for anything.”
Not intentionally, lover, but in my life I’ve never felt so obligated.
 Sep 2018 Mae
Alivia Anderson
I am not subtle
with what my words seem to hide
my face shows confidently,
see I wear my emotions on both inside and out.
feeling 10 times stronger than they should
with no hesitance shown
my words will never match with my face
because I am not subtle
although I try
 Sep 2018 Mae
m
pinch me
 Sep 2018 Mae
m
i've been having a difficult time
deciphering fact from fiction and fiction from
dreams i had when i was a child,
the percolation of the cells
in my chest grow heavy, enormous,
even,
pushing into my throat these
cries for anything
but drowning, anything but
tornadoes all alone,
but awkward kisses and tear-stained
celestial sheets of cotton.
where is my passion? have they taken it all?
was all that blood i've shed a lie?
do i want to end up dead?
i thought intellectual stimulants
and forced photographs in front
of that fountain, again,
could be enough to elevate my senses
back to reality, but i have only
learned how to decorate the darkness,
to numb the throbbing thoughts,
to stuff full the leaking veins of
love and lust and lost breaths,
enough to get out of bed
and into his or his or his
because i remember this place
from a dream i had as a child
and it hurts, i hurt, you hurt,
i smile and ask for more
anxiety attack
 Sep 2018 Mae
Stu Harley
your
hands
feel like dandelions
drifting
in
a summer breeze
when
you
touched me
 Sep 2018 Mae
Bobby Dodds
give it to me straight,
I already write in stanza's and metaphors.
so give it to me plain.
you expect me to be who I am.
but push me to be someone i'm not.
what do you want?
what do,
I want.
i'm not sure.
the only thing I wanted,
was for you to stop wanting.
me,
to  not be.
me.
maybe I also,
want me,
to not
be.
i'm here and i'm here to get something done, I ain't looking for pity.
I know I don't belong. I just want to know if you want me to tag along
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