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 Apr 2018
amber
how would your hands feel
upon my skin:
rough and clumsy,
or soft and determined?
i dont know which i would prefer.
what emotions would your eyes carry,
as you look over my body:
excitement, nervousness?

how would i feel as you explore,
the vastness that is me:
elation,
or a sick feeling of the past?

i hope your fingertips would feel tender, and cautious,
rather than greedy and harsh like those, preceding you.
 Apr 2018
anna francesca
My hands tingle with a sense I have not felt.
Eyelids flutter at a wink of eternity.
The hope is excruciating.
I am Bewitched by the perplexing enigma to ensue.
No ordinary life I know
Waiting for it to unfold
The life thereafter, seldom told
A youth slowly learning how to grow old

Since birth, yearning to have and hold
Each life worth much more than gold
Turned to dust, developed mold
Life fully understood, exposed

The plot is twisting my inner soul
Beware, a vision to behold
Cashed in my ticket, brave and bold
To live the good life, I’m not yet sold
 Apr 2018
Jas
Terrors collected behind the barb and glass
Rising from the chimney of the lantern
In surfing shadows along each wall
He plunged in to slumber emphatically,
And they followed him there.


                                  ~ Mom & Dad
letters from Fears
 Apr 2018
Madeline
he said,
(this boy
who is not who i love
but could have been
in a life
where i didn't love
someone else already),

"i would kiss you now,
if i could."

i said,

"i know. i feel it."

i said,

"it's in the air."

i said,

"it feels thick, between us."

i said,

"the air

feels

tremulous."

"tremulous," he repeated. "that's good."

and so we sat
in the tremulous air,
me and this boy i could love,
but don't,
but don't,
but maybe.

we sat in the tremulous air
and we didn't act on it
and i'm glad,

but now

i can't

sleep.
 Apr 2018
Cinzia
I plan to be

one of
The

next

generation

where rhyme

is not
a crime

I'll accomplish it somehow

be reborn
into
a
family
wealthy but neglectful

weirdos

do my time as a child

woeful adolescent
suffer slings & arrows

come out on
top

my pen poised
to write this
simple
song
 Apr 2018
preservationman
Round and Round we go
This story might be a bus you know
It involves an amusement park
But let me narrate to give you the start
It was when I was young visiting Coney Island
There were rides galore
But what caught my attention was a bus for sure
There were many vehicles, but it was that one Volkswagen Bus
It was that bus I wanted to ride being an absolute must
Since I am bus lover
I had to ride that multi Vehicle Merry Go Round
As I stepped in, for me it was an adventure to begin
So I was at the steering wheel
I had to get that driver feel
Yet, every time some kid wanted to control
I had firm and was plain bold
That bus was my sheer delight
In fact, it was total excite
I was smiling like a bright light
Buses have always been my passion
But that specific vehicles go round I was never forget
I am thinking with no regret
However, it was the bus that captured my heart
The vision being a bus
My enjoyment having no fuss
It was simply that Volkswagen bus
It’s a passion I said, and the bus wheeling being remembered
A bus a bus, but there are many bus fans, and this is the illustration of us.
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