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  Nov 2014 Cloey Olson
Jason Cirkovic
I ponder
Through the murky wasteland
Trying to clear the clatter
That rattles in my mind

Ill call out to my ideas
But it seems
That it prefers
Tranquility
Over the epiphanies
That seem to
Snap,
Crackle,
POP!
To the rhythm
Of the Rice Crispies
I had this morning

"I have no clue what to write."

Maybe if I rubbed my head
It could get
All of the Knots
Out of my Knoty head

My hand
Connected with pen
Feels tongue tied
To the cotton *****
That spring
Out of my imagination
And lands onto
Um.... What?

"I need to take a walk"
  Nov 2014 Cloey Olson
Emily Sliver
Draw your knife swiftly
Stab white sheets that spew black blood
And carve lovely words
  Nov 2014 Cloey Olson
Lindsay
I've never heard a voice speak so weak
yet still puncture my ear.
I've never heard a single word spoken
that enchanted my darkest fear.
hell-fire struck me deep like a dart
as if anacondas were suffocating my heart.
My body turned cold.
as I tried to fathom what I've been told  
horror and regret eat my living flesh whole.
Question after question contradict in my soul.
Acid tears scold my eyes;
reactant to a mind
that is overwhelmed and flooding with doubt.
My anguished internal spirit cries out
  Why…
Why?
Why would he abandon his family like that?
How could he leave us so soon?
What were the thoughts damning his mind
when the gun to his own head, he drew.
By Lindsay Johnson
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