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 Jul 2016
BarelyABard
This world didn't abandon war, we just made it greedy and taught it to answer to the highest bidder.
We didn't destroy famine, we just pushed it far enough away to distract everyone else with neon lights.
We didn't conquer pestilence, it just grew tired of infecting our bodies, and grew hungry for our souls.
If the last enemy to be destroyed is death, then he will be waiting a long time because our enemies weren't defeated, just painted a different color and labeled "Buy one, get one free."
 Jul 2016
Ellie Geneve
Depression is the hitchhiker
you hesitantly let in
but slowly warmed up to

He convinces you to get out of your car
and run out with him

Except running out
isn't running free

It's running inside
a jail, by his side
 Jul 2016
Liz And Lilacs
Were I not a woman?
If I fit your beliefs?
If I bent to your will?
If I abandoned my ambitions?
I will never sway in your
hot air breeze
that you create with your
crumbling lungs of dust and age.

Would it change anything if I did?
My grandfather told me it isn't ladylike to have such high ambitions.
Casse-toi.
 Jul 2016
b e mccomb
The shadows flick
Faster and faster of
The fan until it
Turns into a UFO and
Detaches from the
Ceiling to fly away.

I'm drunk on
Exhaustion
High on
Poetry.

The invisible pattern
On the wall begins
To dance, the curlicues
Tangoing with fleur-d'les
To the silent drumbeat
Of my heart in my ears.

I'm intoxicated from
My thoughts
Completely smashed on
Shards of mirrors and the
Dregs of any
Innocence I had left.

I'll watch the numbers
Flash backwards, just
Let time turn around
Clocks will melt
Even in air-conditioning
I've got a
Pounding headache and
Tomorrow I'll be
Hungover
On my soul.
Copyright 6/30/14 by B. E. McComb
 Jul 2016
Curtis
Hidden meaning within my words
Every word you read
Like a window without blinds
People outside can see

Maybe you have to look harder
Everything seems so lonely
 Jul 2016
DSD
Like all other cities in the clouds
this one is often wet and always loud.

Its air heavy with the sweat of labour
and light with the soothing lunar caress.

Its bricks, the stuff of dreams,
raised by giants, manifested in concrete.

Its people the dreamers.
There shoulders drenched in hope

Walk with weeping umbrellas to the sky
in painful black soles...

...Past snow globe dreamlands
of nebular realms and rainbow twilights

Shielded in walls of nothingness thick
to keep the fantasies in and the phantoms out.

And she prances on the grey greasy pavement
blowing bubbles of soap that brave the rain.

Her chin - the sun.
Her breath - the monsoon winds.
Her curls - the streams in the woods.
Her forehead - the promised land to each raindrop.
And her soul - the bliss that lies in the space between worlds.
Lord, speak to me
when my heart
is
still.
And I have quieted
my soul.
Speak to me
Your words of Truth.
That I may fear no ill.

Speak to me
when I awaken.
Remind me
that I am not forsaken.
Speak
when I lay down to sleep.
Hold me in Your arms
while I weep.
Speak to me,
dear Lord I pray.
Speak to me.
And have Your way.
Speak.
For Your servant is listening.
Speak.
In the quiet place.
Of my heart.
Speak.
 Jul 2016
MC
Try as I might, I cannot refer to you with anyother title
For you had unfortunately raised me
You stood there
Unaware, as my childhood grazed me
I never saw it coming
You never asked for me
I never wanted this to happen
For you to cry over me
I thought you'd be glad
You got what you wanted
Me out of your life
But like a ghost I still haunted
Your memories of regret
Your memories of pride
All those nights crying
We shamelessly lie
I'm sorry you find your sanity in a bottle of wine
I'm sorry I find mine in a bottle that was prescribed
We both need our peace
We both need our distance
If it helps you to know
I'd love you to listen
About how I still care, deep in my heart
I'm sorry that our minds
Tore us apart
A glimpse into the mirror
reveals fresh creases crossing
over the corners of my mouth—
lines written in immutable ink;
I try not to linger

crumbling upon a bed
scarcely bearing its title,
strewn with lonely sheets;
I bundle them against my chest
using rougher hands than I had left
 Jul 2016
Sombro
What can be harder than metal or bone?'
She asked, ivory champing on the bit
And she spoke with iron, stoking,
Poking the fire.
'Fire.'

My hearth stuttered in protest, but
By blackened, guttered tongues
I could not speak
And her belief was left untouched.

There's charcoal in my breath
My lungs clutch fiery coals
She knew, she told me so
And iron only felt the touch of my chest

She stoked the flames
And from between my cagèd ribs I coughed
She held out her hand
And the yellow licked her palm, bristling

She laughed.
'What's harder than metal or bone?' she mused
And poked my chest some more.
'Fire.'
Weird, huh?

— The End —