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 Oct 2019
Hadrian Veska
I’ve dreamed dreams
Long and distant wisps
Forlorn wants and vague inclinations
I wander with intent
Thought I’ve long forgotten it
I still feel that geass in my bones
A distant command from my creator
Whom I have never known
And yet I sojourn on
To complete my unknown quest
 Oct 2019
Jack Jenkins
I would describe depression as purple
and show you the frailty of my sanity
a long hallway with a long staircase
that goes up as it goes downwards
parts of you will fall off as you climb
rattling and echoing like a ghost
passing yourself seven times over
dusty lungs barely keeping you up
do you ever wonder if it ever ends?
//on depression//
 Oct 2019
Chelsea Rae
I wonder if they can see the heaviness that I can feel plaguing my eyes.

The bags underneath, purple with exhaustion and pain pulling them down further and further.

Droopy lids that never close because my heart and mind can't sleep.

Endless suffering hidden behind my glass pupils hoping someone can see it in the reflection.
 Oct 2019
Chelsea Rae
I said, "go **** yourself,"
But really my soul was trying to say, "go find yourself."
I still care. I just can't do the indecision and confusion.
 Oct 2019
Jack Jenkins
All signs point to depression, and side effects of depression may include talking to those skeletons in your closet at 4am when you dream about her. Again.

Talking to ghosts isn't scary or bad, mostly it's just sad, because she's still alive and you act like she's dead. She's not dead. she's just not in your life anymore.

It's been two and a half years since we last talked, and I'm sure I can reach out or find a friend of a friend who maybe knows where you are.

But I won't.

Because the same reasons that drove you away, drive me to stay where I have been for the last three years.

I have grown up, but I have not moved on, I'm just loftier and believe that I can die happy because maybe I changed a half-dozen lives for the better. But I can't prove that.

I'm not suicidal, but I still keep that shotgun barrel at the back of my mouth just to keep myself hostage to the past. To the memories.

So I stay away.

Because I'm stuck.

My mind likes to divide instead of multiply, then compartmentalize all the things I want to say. But Rationalization clears it's throat and speaks in a somber way.

"You died that day you threw your love away. Your words do not matter, anymore."

I check the time; it's 4am. Here we go again.
//On her//
 Oct 2019
Traveler
EAT
Perhaps a man
Has more then he needs
His hunger for love
His need, his greed
Surely life exist
Outside the stream
Impersonally
We hear the screams
Of the strong
Devouring the weak

We all must
Eat our meat
It is eternal
What we seek
............
TT
 Oct 2019
Chelsea Rae
Where is my hippie soul?
Who preaches peace in every scenario.
Who loves with no limits
Or conditions.

Fighting the good fight.

He'll lay against the grass and scry the clouds with me.
Positioning flowers in my hair
To make a colorful arrangement.

His gypsy soul never settling down.

His eyes never leaving the stars.
I almost want him to love them
More than me.

Finding passion amongst the trees.

Look for me.

I'm twirling in between the trunks
And if you stare just long enough
You'll see me dancing with them.

Shaking the leaves
As the Earth
Makes love with me.
We await your return my love.
 Oct 2019
Jack Jenkins
picture me as nothing more
                             than a
      deflated balloon
         clinging to the walls of your heart
//On her//
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