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 Jan 2016
Steven Tran
Okay - used to express assent, agreement, or acceptance.

The feeling between "happy" and "horrible"
"Okay."

The response people give when asked "Is everything alright?"
"I'm okay."

Don't be "okay.".
Be sad
Be mad
Be happy
Be angry
Don't be " okay. ".

Don't accept or agree, just cause its easy.
Don't think you don't deserve better.
Don't think you are alone.

You are loved.
You are on a journey.
You will face hardships.
You will struggle.

But you will be better than okay.
You will become strong.
 Jan 2016
Mariah Lawson
I miss you.
But I don’t want to be the one that misses you.
I need you to miss me.
I know that we’ll meet again someday, somewhere.
I can feel that in my soul.
The universe isn’t finished with us yet.
Maybe it’s fate, destiny, whatever.
I do believe in that.
But I also believe that you can make your own destiny.
So tell me please
Do I wait for that someday, somewhere?
Or do I find the courage to make it happen now?
 Jan 2016
Dan
And in these dreary dreadful
Days of January
I often fear that
Whatever fire or passion
That possessed me to write in the preceding months
Is leaving me
I know not how or why
But with everyday that passes it feels as if the fire is burning itself out

But my friends,
Blame it on the weather!
Blame it on the damp and dark and freezing chill
Blame it on the on the news of deaths and the presence of tears
But if you want something to believe, believe in this:
That **** fire won't burn out

Save your Phoenix symbolisms for another day
A Phoenix is born again from its own ashes
And in my heart there will be no ashes
Because this **** fire won't burn out

It's fine to stop singing when your voice cracks and your throat burns but that's no excuse to lose the tune
So when your voice is healed stand your ground and belt out your song
For that fire won't burn out

Then embrace the weather
Embrace the damp the dark and the freezing chill
Embrace the dreary dreadful
Days of January
Where you fear the fire inside flickers and fades
There is nothing controlling that fire but you
And if you have the patience to think and the paper to write
Your fire won't go out
Don't burn out, don't fade away
 Jan 2016
L
I don’t love you anymore
yet you plague my thoughts
like a bubonic wave
and my mind is rotting
in an attempt to **** you off

I don’t love you anymore
Yet your name grips onto my tongue
like a loaded gun
ready to shoot at any chance it gets

I don’t love you anymore
but I secretly hope
that you still might love me
 Jan 2016
Autumn Shayse
I have been the girl*
who wanted love so badly,
she went out of her way to avoid it
I have been the girl
who thought she'd found it,
and ruined it somehow
I have been the girl
who was destroyed over empty promises
broken down by total ignorance
I have been the girl
with a cynics heart and
a crooked mind
I will be the girl
who goes through it all again
just to feel as good as I felt
in all the interim
I have never been the girl
to write on her happiness
to express delight
and so
I am the girl
unknown to herself.
 Jan 2016
am i ee
why am i so ******* weird?

your guess is as good as mine
but let us not ponder this too too much

who the **** cares...
celebrate the differences
celebrate those that forge a different path
celebrate the diversity in Mother Nature

who wants to be like the rest of the pack?
who wants to be a sheep?
an asleep sheep?

not me i say!
if there was any i to say....

perhaps the Taoists have something
to do with it
well ... just this last bit.....

they accept all
all practices
unique and varied
sharing
exploring
experimenting...

why must the masses
cast such hate and derision
upon those who are
free spirits?

weeeellllll...
you free spirits out there...
**** em

don't ever change....
be you
you are me
and i love you
and i love me

see what fun we
have

so go on now
be really ******* weird
let's make it one big
fun contest
and drive the rest
CRAZY!
for all the suffering free spirits out there... this is one ******* whild world... embrace it ... just don't take it seriously & as a wise man once said to me "what do you care what anyone thinks of you?  ... in great gratitude to you my sweet guru and dearest love ...our time together was too too short... but you taught me well & i will always do it MY WAY
 Jan 2016
SøułSurvivør
~~♥~~

I used to think men
should be more like books
Both you cannot
judge by looks...

If I didn't want to finish reading
I put it down... no heart was bleeding

A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you
through the night...

It doesn't smoke. It doesn't drink.
It won't leave toothpaste
in the sink!

It doesn't binge... it don't eat...
It won't leave up the toilet seat!

It don't forget. It doesn't mope.
It won't hog the TV remote!

It doesn't have to have
The last say...
It doesn't have legs

to walk away.

But it's not soft. It isn't warm.
It doesn't keep you
safe from harm.

Even though it makes no fuss
It can't think. It can't discuss.

Even though it has its charms
it can't hold you in its arms.

It doesn't pine. It doesn't miss.
It can't hug and it can't kiss.

So now I think on it again...
... I think BOOKS should be
             more like MEN!!!



SoulSurvivor
2/20/2015
~~♥~~
 Jan 2016
sanch kay
we’re the cool girls of this generation,
the ones with the words ‘i .cannot. give. a. ****’
slashed across us in bold red,
the little lies we tell ourselves to go to bed,
instead of spending midnight hours strung on the edge
unable to seek behind or storm ahead.

the ones who fell asleep
to the sound of constant yelling, artillery shelling; bitter bullets exploding
into ugly bruises splattered across still skinny limbs,
shifting stories of anger and frustration, guilt and regret
expressed across inches of innocent skin;
the ones whose clothes were just a little bit frayed on the edges
the wear and tear of secret battles
fought behind sunset alleys,
behind midnight tea stalls
or on bright Sunday afternoons
at the bus stand,
desperately fighting hungry eyes and hungrier hands.

we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones with the
red tips red lips
red ribs red wrists.


we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones that house boys in our hearts and
smoke in our lungs,
the ones who spend way too much time inside their own head,
asking a hundred questions before every step in this game of wizarding chess that
never seems to slow down -

we’re the ones that can be found
wandering insomniac across sulphur-sodden streets,
wisps of distant wishes
settling into the foggy vestiges
of a high mind longing to soar higher.

we’re the cool girls of this generation
the one that are still allowed just the right rationing of
action emotion expression complication communication
while wearing a constant resting not-so-***** face
head sorting information in a frenzied daze,
heart swinging between your fingers and a suitcase -

the ones with one foot in the present and
other parts traversing through parallel dimensions,
searching for a back up plan if your hearts refuse to allow us home;
the ones whose mouths became graveyards
for all the words that went unsaid,
for all the words to which we came undone,
for all times your eyes asked us questions that we shunned

we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones that belong to roads unknown and bodies untouched,
the ones that find stories in shipwrecked planks
that ride stormy oceans only to find homes
or perhaps even build them -
amidst the crumbling sand castles on the sea shore.

because we’re the cool girls of this generation -
the ones with the
*red tips red lips
red ribs red wrists.
 Jan 2016
Mitch Nihilist
years of negativity
like seeing your
reflection on the other
side of the glass barrier,
I never looked both ways
when crossing the road
because of years
of being blind
to anything that
came close,
waking up
felt like finding
a new strand of
cancer somewhere
every day,
I heard nothing but
voices, I knew I
was hurting myself
but I never stopped to
look both ways,
I realized it wasn’t
just me that I was
impaling with sadness,
sometimes darkness
shines light on life
more than light itself
ever will,
at the bottom of
every bottle my heart
would sit and drown until
I ended up swallowing it
back into my chest,
slowly the whisky
is veering from
being stained red,
every mirror
reflects more than just
a face,
it shows a past
so dark the
background
is the focus,
instead of looking
at the rocks beneath
my feet crumbling
I’ve been taking steps back,
hands like blenders
left on too long
are reaching towards
pulling the plug,
looking both ways
has always been
a problem for me,
but I  finally
caught a glimpse
at what happens
to the left and realized
that change is right.
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