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 Dec 2014
Sarah
Dazed, mind filled with xanax dust.
I'm questioning who I am
When I look in the mirror I do not see myself
I see a stranger
With bags under her sunken in eyes
And her eyes, they look sad
Lifeless, dead
And her body
Her body's ugly, fat, disgusting
Covered with marks, scars, burns.
But as I look at this person in the mirror
I am over came with the urge
To hurt her, to feed her pills and potions
Because some how I think I am her
I am the sad girl in the mirror with the cuts down her arms
and the bags under her eyes
I just don't want to believe it
Believe I've wasted away
To xanax dust and cuts.
please do not abuse this drug
 Dec 2014
Rachael Judd
Theres a nice saying, "pain demands to be felt"
But what is pain?
is it when your heart gets shattered into pieces of broken glass?
or is it when someone you love leaves you?
I think that theres many ways to feel pain.
but god, oh god, how are we supposed to deal with this pain?
it eats us from the inside out till were nothing but bones in a coffin.
it tears us apart piece by piece.
it chokes us till we cant stand up straight, till we cant breathe.
it drowns us with sorrow till we're blue.
it brings us to the floor begging on our hands and knees to make it stop.
However, that the thing about pain, it demands to be felt, because if you're not experiencing pain, then what are you experiencing?
Nothing.
pain will change you into a person you never thought you could be,
it will transform you to this sad dark person,
who plods there feet everywhere they walk,
who bows there head in a crowd of smiling faces,
and this pain you're feeling,
this pain you're experiencing,
it will destroy you.
It will haunt her
the favorite pencil
tip softened just so...
paw pushed it
somewhere to a secret spot
out of vision, her reach
a peice of paper elusive
yet there...
lodged deep amidst
a stack of most important things

She does not lose well...

Not in terms of games or competition
but the things in her life
that envelop her world
tough n' scrappy
beautiful n' tender
holding all things dear
close to her heart
Loss is a place of 
deepest contemplation
Her memories
are vibrant, alive

She does not lose well

creatures and people
that are immersed
in her life
even one pulled out leaves
like a building block
A tear
A gap
A hole in her life

She does not forget
or minimize the
pertinance of
freindship
love
A moment that has
touched her heart

When it is time for
the loss
the breaking of her heart
can be felt
through
time
space

The moment
becomes filled
With rainbows of light
She will bathe in that beam...
helps guide them home

She trusts in the divine
finding there solice
amidst the
flutterings of
her tender, broken heart
Grief shrouds her
A mystical veil
that holds her dearly
as the pain
becomes bearable
she will begin
to tell her stories
once again

~ Christi Michaels ~ June 2014~
In honor of a dear friend, that
helped her Mother "Home"
 Dec 2014
Em
Heights
Im afraid of heights
They asked me what made me shake
And I just told them heights
But really, really truly,
I must say thats a lie
I am scared of falling
From the cliffs or from the sky
Or maybe really, truly,
Into someones mind
Because everyday I think of us
And how we used to be
Heights dont truly make me shake
Just the absence of you and me
 Dec 2014
Michael Humbert
Silence is a language in itself,
It’s poignant, peaceful, deafening, soothing
Silence transcends trite words,
And its meaning is known by the way it settles in your bones
Whether it’s a silence shared by two lovers cradling each other in bed,
Oblivious to anything but their sacred bliss
Or a silence spanning years by lovers turned strangers,
Long entrenched in new lives and new souls

Silence wraps itself around time like ivy on gnarled roots
Intertwining itself with life
As time grows, it can intensify, become tangible like cream
When you are all alone, embrace silence,
Do not fear it,
For it can be your solace or your doom

— The End —