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 Mar 2016
Sub Rosa
When did you last lay in breezy orchards,

naked, sunshine glazing your curves in amber,

heaped between fallen apples, tickled by alfalfa,

peeking through a tangle of someone else's hair.

When did you last lay beneath starry sky,

afloat in empty fields, grain waving like oceans do

peering above, your vision consumed by an expanse of stars,

two bodies shivering under one blanket.

When did you last hold your breath,

struggling to slow time in that one aging moment

and you would gladly let the world grow old without you.

Freeze.

Still.

Forever.

Just five more minutes.
 Feb 2016
Mystifying Chaos
Never fall for a damaged person because they'll lure you in. They'll captivate you with their mysterious past.
They'll tell you that they're broken beyond repair and then you'll make every possible effort to prove them wrong.
They'll scream, they'll yell, they'll howl, they'll yelp. . but somehow you'll become the cure for their pain.
You'll fix them up and believe that it's a permanent change. But their demons cannot be suppressed for long.
Their aura will always allure you and you'll end up being the victim.
Intentionally or unintentionally you'll fall in love with someone who feels nothing but numb.
And this vicious cycle will continue.. because now you'll become the broken person and someone else will fall in love with you.
 Jan 2016
M
"and now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good."
 Dec 2015
Rj
My bedsheets are soaked in memories and emotions
A stain of blood there, some drips of tears there,
A warm imprint of people who once held each other there
I put them in the wash, but they don't seem to come out
 Nov 2015
asmall
laugh because you burnt the toast and spilled the juice
cry because your book has come to an end
sleep when you are tired
and awaken when you are rested.
cradle your lover as if you were a child, yet again
wear old tacky sweaters that are a little too snug
and sip hot cocoa by the fire.
sing in the shower, no, perform in the shower
believe in fairytales and love at first sight
run with your dogs
and pay your bills on time.
kiss with tongue
write a song,
and then sing it on karaoke night at your favorite bar
call your family
and learn to live again.
-learn to live again // a.s.
 Nov 2015
E Townsend
I will drag my knife along your skin,
sharp blade down into your fragile, shaking canvas,
incising an increasing beat of whimpers and whines.
Please hold still. I promise this will hurt.

I will expose your clattering bones,
rip out your chattering teeth,
erase every impugned utterance
you muttered against me.
I will carve my letters slowly
on your unzipped frame,
sliding the burgundy blood across to
blot
       clot
              dot.    

This is only preparation for what is about to follow.

I will puncture your throbbing organs,
slash your stretched cartilage
with an unwritten script.
Before I press further,
I’ll assure you, you are still alive.

I will twist each phrase,
haunt you to believe it is your fault,
force you to beg the slightest escape.
I will permanently etch my name
deep in the frozen chambers
of your quivering heart.

I will open up the blueprint as a demolition expert,
remove whole fractions of your fractured soul,
leave you a horrid wreck in the abyss
of a mess you just made.

You will not get rid of me,
though no trace of evidence is left behind.

My hands have been clean from the start.
So I had this workshopped and I got so many good reviews, I'm still glowing
 Oct 2015
M
whatever souls are made of, I'd love to watch them
in their bare bones and swirls of color
darken, burn, and mold together
rather than just our faces. I'd like to sit
and observe each orb of love and hatred,
some consumed and lost to apathy, some bright
one way or the other, I'd love to see what happens
every time I meet someone new, every time
I lose someone old. I'd love to watch my heart flicker
and to know for sure the right or wrong by the
light I show the world- I'd love to see it, pure,
so that it's no longer a war of lies and masks and faces
I'd love to hold the raw, stinging, spitting essence
of someone close to me, so they can't deny it anymore
and I can't deny it anymore- the world would be good,
I swear, if we'd all just let go and open our doors
(although I'd like to see yours- I don't know if I could.)
the fundamental problem of vulnerability is that we don't want to give our own. We all want everyone to tell the truth except for us- because we're so afraid that we want to see the whole picture and not risk our own selves. So in the end, there is no truth because everyone's soul is locked away out of fear.
 Sep 2015
abs
Maybe the girl I know
Isn't born perfect
She had freckles and burns
Under her skin
She had violet scars,
Dark circles under her eyes.
She is weak and vulnerable

She longed for peace
A minute of escape
from all of the distress
that has been following her.
A moment of silence.
A moment where she could free herself
and prevent the pain from spreading through herself,
even from being felt.

She searched everywhere for it
She's been to places to find it
But she couldn't
She wanted it so much
She could trade her life for it.

Sleep was the only place
for her to calm the raging storm
that has been roaring inside her stomach.
And she aches for it.
She aches for it even more.
 Jul 2015
Amanda
Giving up:

It is when you look at the chef's knife at a strange hour wondering if it is sharp enough to draw blood. You already know it is, but the white lies beg to stay within your skin.

Don't you dare say I gave up, or I am giving up.

1. Especially when I cry with anger glassing over my eyes.
Bleeding out all the bad truths & rusty faults, for a better day.
I have not given up if I look for truth over sweet fiction.

2. How ferociously warm and red my cheeks are. The kind of red reminicent of berry stains in tumbled laundry. Truth is they were slapped by a ghost's hands.

Or when I found out that hot tears and hot showers feel the same.

Do not say I lack the strength to stay here, when my veins dance to a heartbeat; loud & defiant.

Don't ever say to someone: 'You gave up easily' unless you know the exact & imperfectly precise way their thoughts align into dizzy constellations.
Like the way you know the back of your hand.

*Don't.
Trivializing one's decision/feelings is not always the best thing to do.
 Jul 2015
Elin Mellbergstedt
This used to be your spot
your comfort zone
your hideaway
a place to sit and think
in company of no one
but yourself
your camera
your music

When you needed to clear your mind
or escape from your everyday chores
whenever you needed to cry
or contemplate
or gather strength
This is where you would go

You took him to your spot
proudly showing him the view
the trees
the cliffs
You wanted to share
something you love
with someone you love

Your spot lost its original function
and became a place for laughing
and kissing
and loving
a place associated with joy
with him

He left you at your spot
he said you must cut all ties
for you are not the one to laugh with
to kiss
to love
He has someone else for that now
And they have a spot of their own

You go to your spot
to cry and clear your mind
but you see him everywhere
a silhouette on the bench
a shadow in the thicket
a ghost who whispers in your ear
all the things you wish to hear again
I love you
I love you
I love you

He's haunting your spot
The whispers turns into screams
repeating those last few words again and again
It's over
It's over
It's over

Never again will you share
something you love
with someone you love
cause once he leaves
he's not just in your memory
he's in everything you shared
staining it
ruining it
making it his

He's in your favorite movie
he's in your favorite song
and you're constantly reminded
of the pain he caused
He will never let you move on


This used to be your spot
Now it belongs to him
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