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 Jan 2018
Sarah Spang
You're seated somewhere in
The realm of the unnamed
I've tried in jest to plunder you
With phrase; though you're unframed.


You are not a man I'll claim
With meter, phrase and line
The metaphors I'd set aside
You've not allowed to bind


In other ways I'll keep you
When the pen and page will not
My finger tips will bid you stay
When body's all I've brought.
 Jan 2018
muteD
Sometimes I wish I didn't exist.
Who would want to exist in this world anyways?
Living a life of hurt and loneliness
Because no matter what you do, no one will ever stick around to see you make it out of this disastrous and heartless cold world or not.

Oh how I hate the word
'Alone'.
Because that's what I've been feeling lately.
"You aren't alone."
"I'm here for you."
"There are others going through this too."
Yada, yada, yada.
Those are just words that spill like a fallen drink on the kitchen counter.
Emptying its' contents like you would your stomach after hearing that your brother faces up to 25 years for something you wish he didn't do.

Is that too personal for you?
Oh, I can get much more personal.

How about uprooting your life for the second time?
Second time? Second time.
For a parental figure who doesn't even act like you were once in her.
Your heartbeat mixing with hers in this entrancing dance of rhythm.
Picking favorites and avoiding communicating with you because who needs to communicate with her own flesh and blood anyways?
Forcing you to look for tender and warm maternal affection and direction elsewhere because how could she possible show love if she's more lost than you are?

Not personal enough?
I'm just warming up.

I've been so independent for so long.
I never knew I could learn to depend on someone so much.
Again.
But, I did.
And I'm sorry if this starts to slowly turn into one of those lovey dovey yucky yucky poems.
But, I've finally met my match.
Someone who laughs at the same things as me.
Someone who takes care of me and sends me those cute
"Did you eat?"
"Did you make it home?"
"I miss you."
Texts.
Someone who has seen me broken and beaten down and instead of running away at full speed,
He cupped my face with his hands and forced me to look at him,
Through the snot and tears,
And told me
"Do you see me? I will not leave you. I am here."

And that my friends,
Gave me back my will.
My will to live.
My will to survive.
The will I lost so long ago.
The will I never knew I had.
But, don't let that "will" fool you.
I'm still learning how to depend on myself.
I'm still learning how to love my life.
I'm still learning how to want to live.

If that wasn't personal enough for you,
Then nothing ever will be.
I just wanted to take a moment and get a little personal.
 Jan 2018
Gabriel
i will be made of love again
just you wait
it will gleam like dew on my skin
spark my eyes
it will fill out my hips
pour into the gaps
between my ribs
i will be full of it
it will burst forth from me
like sunlight
i will be radiant, evergreen
my love will be in overabundance
i will not know what to do with it all
but know this
not a drop of it will be spilt on you
not a dappled ray of light
will be wasted on your skin
my brilliance will not feed you
i will not be eaten.
 Jan 2018
Imran Islam
My morning smiles on your face
my dreams play
to your heart
you are a song
for my concert
because your love wraps me in peace.

My hardships quiet for your sweetness
my tears fall for
your silence hurts,
I feel the same pain
in my heart
but I keep smiling for your happiness.

My heart always cries in your sadness
when you're in unrest
I feel like I'm sad,
to make you happy
when you're upset
I act as I'm glad
I just keep silent for your goodness.
 Jan 2018
Surbhi Dadhich
I still have you on the retina of my eyes
Hazel- brownish chuckle-headed features
Jolly grace showering from your bonny plight
And your perfect physique and stature
Your cheerful character is still on my dreary sheets of life
You somehow jeers my attention
With wonders of divine
A role- model of pure affection
Hub of the anonymous pleasure
You're still on the retina of my eyes
On the dreary sheets of my life..
 Jan 2018
Sequoia
Her heart can hold a lifetime of love that runs skin deep.
It aches with strong cravings for affection.
There's a feeling she gets,
every time she feels like someone is trying to deceive her.
It consumes her entire body.
Betryal is the feeling she thinks this is.
Blood boils, adrenaline rushes,  
and heart beats faster than the speed of light.
She can
****** someone in a split second with this excruciating feeling.
She can rid her life of sorrows but
also bring nothing but woe into it with this tenacious vehemence.
written on Dec. 27.17 @ 11:48 PM
 Jan 2018
Vivi Greene
too much positive energy

inside of me too much

joy

i can't help but break out

into a broad smile
 Jan 2018
tylervk
this morning I am going to jump into my poem—dive into my poem, I am going to surround the air with my poem, a cloudy substance my poem, I will be suffocated by the breaths taken when in my poem, others will not suffer the same consequences for it is — my poem, yes, my poem the one I constructed, laid the foundation, of this poem, oh yes, my poem—the one I painted, countless hours tracing the lines of the skeletal existence of; my poem, yes the same poem that makes skin crawl, the same poem that  inspires, love, fear, sorrow, wonder, the same poem that I have been keeping stored away in this led box inside my hallow chest, the one that flipped on—new lights ones never before seen, in my poem there is nothing much more than literal build up with emotional out pouring; not in my poem is there mention of kings and queens and what boy will love me most, no in my poem—cynicism takes the lead in my poem I attack the ones I disagree with, not attack parse; I storm the opposition in my poem—the “right”, in my poem has no leg to stand on, in my poem I do not ponder existence of god and such other things, oh no in my poem I do as I please,  in my poem I am the puppet master, the driver, the captain, the president; oh yes, in my poem, is where I belong.
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