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 Oct 2017
Cynthia
In middle school everyone was so mean and sad,
walking around the hallways wearing nothing but black.
So many heads down and eyes staring at the ground,
some kids walked like ghosts and just never made a sound.
We wore black to remember the happiness we all once had,
But our depressions never mattered because kids in Africa had it bad;
We were dramatic because there's war in Iraq.
You called us ignorant because we weren't happy with what we have.
My best friend took his life one year after middle school,
kids were so damaged that they only knew how to be cruel.
He didn't hesitate to tie a simple knot,
But it's ok, because he's just ignorant and his hurting was "wrong."
Now a mother cries out every night,
a Father can do nothing but hold her tight
as they mourn because they will never forget the sight
of their baby grown up with a silent mouth and frozen eyes.
Open your hearts to my generations hurt,
join our funeral from years before.
Today we gather with hearts torn and skin scarred
to remember who we were and cherish now, who we are.
 Sep 2017
parker
silicon kids.
with their plastic smiles and rubber souls,
they walk,
overdosing on oxygen and melting at the night sky.

silicon kids.
caged up hearts and metal minds,
lips full of fibs and fingertips full of light,
they escape.

silicon kids.
their fire eyes and typewriter feet,
cloudy chests masking emotion,
they hide.
 May 2017
galaxy of myths
I have braved storms,
I've been stepped on,
I stood next to prettier flowers,
I discovered my powers,
Yet I'm still blooming;
I'm still standing.

I will not pull out my own petals
Just to satisfy an onlooker.

My loved ones, the bees;
They looked over me.
Made sure I have sunshine
and water until I'm fine.
Pulled out my weeds
and gave me all my needs.

You see, I'm the strongest flower;
And I'm still blooming.

-m.b
To everyone who have helped me reach this stage of self love; thank you. This one's for you. And for anyone who's struggling to love themselves, this one's for you too. Congratulations on making it this far. I'm proud of you!
 Apr 2017
Poetic T
If I was god for a day, Mmm would I cure the ills
of the world, would I bring peace even for a day !!

I'd put a single lightning bolt to the temple,
for what I have created in my
                                                        own image.
Doesn't say much for me then

                                                                   *"Bang.....
 Mar 2017
C Davis
I shot a nail gun the other day
for the first time.
Maybe I wasn’t doing it wrong after all.
Maybe I just
hit some studs.

Feeling a bit
homesick,
or lovesick,
or I-don’t-know-which-kind-of-sick,
but I’m sad,
I split some peas over the stove.
Poured left-over sweet tea
and cuddled up in a bed I made for me;
Mattress pad on hard wood.

I am thankful for these things -
The acceptance and peace
that accompany the melancholy.
Miracles in dim light.
Carefully,
my eyes adjust to worm’s sight.

Maybe, after all, I didn’t fire duds.
Perhaps when I shot the nail gun
the other day
I hit studs.
written in January when the weight of my move down south was heavy in my heart and sharp in my mind.
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