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 Dec 2017
kas
this is how it happens
it's the last day the temperature will be
above thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit
until February
you're not looking at the date
it's just the end of November
the middle of the night in the middle of a road
at the end of November
the hum of this small town hurts your ears
you're stuck in a dream where everything you see
turns into a weapon
this is how it happens
you knocked back sharp, amber liquid
to make this place feel a little more okay
and it only worked halfway
no matter how soft the edges are
you bruise your hips when you
run into them in the dark
you're ******* on your fourth cigarette when
a police officer pulls over and asks
how you're doing today
in the too-bright white of the headlights
the sick taste of Red Stag sticks to
the roof of your mouth
the mouth that you're moving into a smile
the mouth exhaling plumes of smoke at the ground
you're okay
"i'm okay."
you don't tell him what you're really doing
you're really taking all of your
thoughts about stopping your pulse for a walk
you don't tell him you've been
chasing ambulances all night long
please, officer don't leave me alone, you don't say
he tells you to have a good night and drives away
and this is how it happens
the moon smiles at you with every single one
of its tiny, sharp teeth
nobody but your cat finds you in that bathtub
nobody but your cat watches you rise from red water
watches it drip drip drip
from every chasm carved in your left arm
nobody but your cat saw the soft animal of your soul
shiver from the cold that day
it's the first day the temperature
dropped below
thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit inside your chest
based on true events
 Nov 2017
Rebel Heart
We all know the story of the tooth fairy..
She'd leave a gift under your pillow
In exchange for taking your lost tooth
A perfect trade, A perfect dream, A perfect fantasy
My first lost tooth?- Not so perfect

You see I never saw your fist hurling towards my face
The hands that held me so close as a baby
Now became a tool of your aggression.
I just wanted to tell you good night...
To tell you everything would be okay

Because through your silent glares and late night yells,
I saw the tear of despair roll down your face...
I saw how broken you must've been
Underneath the weight of the world
Drowning your stress in bottles
Of what you called "your medicine"

All I ever wanted was to make sure you knew
How much I still loved you
Despite how many times you hurt mommy
All I ever wanted was to make sure you knew
How much I still cared
And that you were going to be okay...
We would be okay.

We could take our bikes out again
Ride down the street and dance in the rain
You could take me to our favorite park
Where I would be the superhero and save you
From the sand monster in the sand box
Then we'd go get some pizza
And watch the sun dip below the waves
The angels, you said, would paint the sky for us
And we'd ride our bikes back to the place we called home
You and mommy would tuck me in at night
And kiss me on the forehead to tell me
That I'd always be loved...
That it would all be okay

Instead,
I went in for a hug
And you punched me in my face.
You
Punched Me
In my face
....
The one person I ever trusted
The one person I ever loved
Was the reason I had blood on my lips
For the first time I could rememeber

You didn't flinch
So I didn't cry
But seven years later
I'm still stuck wondering why
You took away the happiness I was supposed to feel
When I lost my first tooth
And replaced it with this monstrous nightmare of you

Because the next morning I woke up and realized
The tooth fairy never came
To grant my one wish of being happy with you
And every morning after that I woke to realize
The tooth fairy was a fantasy
And so was my childhood happiness with you

-To: My First Heartbreak
Not a poem but a gem I found hiding in the files back from 2010... The writing prompt this was born from was interesting and so reading this 'response' was a little surprising and interesting. I doubt this was shared then but I teared up reading it so enjoy because I'm sharing it for RH now! It wasn't given a title so if you could suggest one it would be appreciated ~BM
 Nov 2017
helena alexis
being a poet in love
means writing down
every single emotion
you’ve ever felt on to paper

it means turning simple things
about a person into
deep details that only
you would notice

such as when the one you
love simply smiles at you
that could turn into
“his mouth turned upward into
a small smile upon his cheeks
making my stomach erupt
into tiny butterflies”

it means writing every single
interaction you’ve had with that
person and turning it into something
poetic and beautiful even if it’s as
simple as a smile

it means letting your heart
do the writing for you as the
emotions pour out of your mind

but it also means heartbreak
lots and lots of heartbreak
having your heartbroken
even helps poets write about
being in love

it’s hard being a poet in love
because we can never find
someone who truly wants
to be written about
wrote this for a contest enjoy
 Nov 2017
Subin
Black ink sprawled across a page,
Delirious writings; unfortunate musings
-- truth obfuscated, a pink haze
a tinted hue hiding the monsters lying beneath

An oil spill of paradoxes;
what once was true is no longer,
Confused, hurt, worried
Which version is the truth
-- do you believe what you see,
or what you want to?
I am found
within the longest periods
of silence.
I am found
within the stillness
of a lonely night.

I am found
within the gathering darkness
of the clouds in the heavens.
I am found
beneath the shadow
of the moon's gleaming light.

I am found
within the crevices
of your exhausted mind.
I am found
buried in the shallow waters
along the shore.

I am found
in nature's inviting,
warm, tender embrace.
I am found
within the striking beauty
of every constellation--that you adore; 
it is there I will dwell
forevermore.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
 Nov 2017
Druzzayne Rika
She's just touching the surface
reaching no more than her own pain
losing days trying to wash her tear stains

the world's wishing her to rise above
look in their eyes and see the truth
to see what they try to allude

there is no straight way, no easy route
and everyone is the passenger of the same boat
looking for the very same perfect coat

But no one will get something which is not theirs
fate has decided everyone's own roadmap
there are some small steps, some big traps

Wait for the check points, rather than all stones
the game of the life, all to achieve and leave
don't just halt at one step to grieve
because she's just wasting her time.
 Nov 2017
Anya
When the judge asked what I was thinking, I replied “no comment.”
What really came to mind was the betrayal, the fury, the angst, that I feel on a daily basis.
I can’t get through a single day without thinking about what you’ve done.
You’ve hurt me.
Not physically, no, but my heart is bruised and broken and there are scars on all my thoughts.
Some days I try to think of the good times we had together.
Going fishing, walking through the woods, fixing stupid broken cars...
But then your stupid mistake pops back into my mind and “I HATE YOU” follows close behind.
What you did was disgusting and from here on I out I choose to say “no comment”.
People don’t deserve to know what you did, you don’t deserve that kind of publicity.
You weren’t with me for my 17th birthday, you don’t see how much I’ve grown in the past 10 months.
And when your birthday passed by, it was as if you didn’t even exist.
Father’s Day was the same way too, because your fatherhood should not be celebrated.
Seeing you now, and hearing the frustrating plea deal you got disgusts me.
Three years of parole and you’re off the hook.
I have to carry this with me for a lifetime but you only get 1,095 days with it.
Do you know how many days are in the average lifetime? 27,765 days.
Your sentence is no where near as damaging as mine.
You will never know how I feel.
You will never care to ask.
You will never see me graduate, or get married, or have a family of my own.
You will be far, far away from me.
Maybe you’ll rot in a pickup truck like your own father.
Or maybe you’ll waste your days away and sit in your own filth like your mother.
But do not ever drag me down to that hell with you.
Don’t ever talk to me.
I don’t need your apology and I don’t need your love.
So when the judge asks “Do you have anything to say?”
I suggest you tell him “no comment.”
To the ******* who ******* up the rest of my life.
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