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 Jun 2018
Dev
"I perform well under stress.." she stresses
her lips pursed in a thin line, she digresses
from the main topic, the point of view
that anyone could see, given half the chance, "You.."
"You're deteriorating.." I heave with a sigh,
she tells me she's fine but thats all a lie.
"Just because I don't eat doesn't mean that I'm sick"
But it worries me because your body isn't nearly thick
enough to keep up with this pattern,
your size should be somewhere between Earth and Saturn
but instead you're mercury.
It isn't fair to your body to keep
depriving yourself of all that is good
when all that it needs to survive is some food
I am begging you please
do not fall to your knees.
they say rock bottom is the place to be
when you can't find the right mindset to see
what's happening.
because it's happening.
'I perform well under stress, like charcoal turned to diamond,
when  its 3am, writing my notes, its like I'm in my prime and,
I just can't stop now when I'm on this roll"
But you haven't yet seen what this toll
has taken on you
stolen your youth
Your boyfriend can tell,
he's not under some spell
and his gaze always falls to me
he's worried.

He has no idea what to do,
I'm your bestfriend, so I must know what to do.

but i don't
we're on opposite sides in the same boat
so how am i to keep you afloat
when my own heads slipping
under the water?
life is tough, and people cope with it different ways. this is sorta a letter to a friend who doesn't deal so well with life. Sometimes, you build them up as much as you can, but if that doesn't work, give them your eyes, and tell them what you see.
 Jun 2018
Victor
These waters deepen
Among those who don't know
How to swim
The tides of time manifest
Into their lives
Suffering without knowing why
One question is everything between life
And death

Whispering silence surveys the thoughts
Of those who are misguided
by their choices
I've faced my sins without comfort
Comfort is only an illusion
I've lived through this nightmare
Ready to be awaken from this coma
 Jun 2018
Sag
LSD
I want you to put me on your tongue and let me dissolve into you like the tiny white squares that turn those glossy hazel marbles into black holes and intense stares. I want you to kiss me and see negative colored rulers in the corner of your vision and I want you to have trouble making a decision between kissing me and observing me while I'm sitting on your chest and I want you to laugh like you did with your cherry colored lip curled over your childish grin over and over and over again and I want you to forget the conversation topic every time you close your eyes because the world inside of your mind is filled with blinking images that you can't quite explain aloud so you settle for little talks about Rosa Parks and Indian style kisses and how the ocean is the Earth's thing or the complexity of butterfly brains and whether or not they remember their caterpillar memories (they do). Describe to me the first time you saw your favorite color and what developed the affinity for it: yours, a glacier blue toy that resembled the ocean and mine, a lavender Easter dress that twirled when I spun. Tell me about your school crushes when you were four and what you got your clothespin moved to the sad face for and I'll write it all in ink on my knee caps because "God, we're such writers" and you'll check the clock in the gaps and search for tunes or lighters and I'll want time to slow down because the nights spent with you usually seem as though minutes are just a few seconds shy of sixty, which turns the little hand pretty quickly.
I want hours, weeks, decades, to analyze the freckles on your face or the pace at which you move your tongue and precisely how it tastes.
I want you to tell me that your brother would like me and about the mountains in Tennessee and maybe next time I'll try to stay awake, unless you want to listen to the way I breathe so fully when I dream.

When I close my eyes, I want to be able to see what you see.
I want you to keep burying the numb parts of you into the warm parts of me.
 Jun 2018
Jordan Ray
I cried while driving today;

A heartfelt sob that not even the gentle purr of the engine could stop.
My heart sunk back into the driving seat.
My eyes filled with tears that the wippers couldn't wipe away.
My happy persona was left behind in the dust.
I was alone, free to be depressed.
Not even the street lights could brighten up my night.
Although, I felt like this was needed.
 Jun 2018
C Davis
There is something so grounding about the rumbling of a train going by,
   And then the soothing, settling of the surroundings as it runs off into a whisper, escaping the reaches of your eye.
I sigh.
   Another train, in opposite direction sliding by.
   I see in it the line drawing my potential demise and simultaneously untangling my turmoil inside.
I am fried.
I am fine.
   I am so drawn to these tracks where the machine-cars glide,
   A deep-seated need to witness
Their Force, their Direction, to Feel Alive.
(5/30/14)
attempting to make tangible sense of my obsession with trains
 May 2018
jenna
my expiration date passed long ago
but you keep me on your shelf
sure, i am in the very back
with the lima beans and the beets
and the condensed milk that you don’t know you have
but i am here
quiet
cold
and solemn
one day, i’m sure
you’ll clean out your pantry and find me
quiet
cold
and solemn
and you will throw me out
because i am nothing more than a place holder
to convince people that your shelf is full
and that you are whole
penicillin, dear.
 May 2018
dawnie
I've written entire novels about you, a soliloquy of my heart.
My logic did not approve, so I have fashioned a new art.
White ink on white paper- for you cannot hate what you cannot see.
It seems my heart has fooled my brain with words it cannot read.
 May 2018
Dev
a striking slice along the creamy white
freckle galaxy that is my thighs

is this what i've become?

a dab of crimson, slow pour at first
then a scarlet waterfall, perfect picture of my pain.

why did i do this

throbbing pain, dulling my senses
my mind is numb, almost at ease.

it hurts, i knew it would

gently easing cotton over wound,
bittersweet burgundy blood, feeding into pristine purity

what have i done
Yeah, i stole the title from a taking back sunday song
 May 2018
S Smoothie
she stood atop the high cliff
Scanning the oceans depths to the horizon
Soft amber glows lit her strong fine features
She had that far away look in her treacle eyes
he knew she was not present
she had gone to be with the spirit of her love
how his own spirit ached to chase after it,
to hold her steady so she would not lose sight of the shore
he almost drifted away with her
but sensed the need for her privacy
he did not want to find what she hoped she might find
he felt it would truly destroy him
he restrained himself from touching her
instead he looked out to he setting sun over her shoulder
letting the strands of lit golden hair flicker on to his cheek
as he blessed and thanked creation
for bestowing on him such simple glory
a wilderness of gratitude for each faint stroke
his whole being came alive
a grand mercy in a pinprick of revelation
divinely connected
as if her body knew that a love lost
was held steady across the arcs of time by another love
as she stood there motionless,
reverent Silence between them
the queen of his faith had restored in him,
what he had long hoped restore in her
He thought recklessly
‘We held time there,
locked in an expedition,
each of our own
words never spoke of any greater higher church,
than that of love
as our haloes mingled,
the sun left enraged with jealousy
slipping into the darkness
leaving the colours of our mismatched hearts to bleed’.

— The End —