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 Jun 2019
-
Hello, I'm

Very pleased to meet you, it's just
you can't see it underneath my chronic "resting ***** face."

I've actually been told that it's more of a chronic "sad and brooding" face, but, I'll take what I can get.

Some things you need to know before dating me are

I do like long walks to the bottom of the ocean,
and I spent most of my childhood under bridges. I know what it's like to walk with two left feet - or no feet at all, so to speak.

I smoke cigarettes when I'm sad because I like the feel and when I was a teenager, I wanted nothing more than to be Morrissey when I grew up.

Plot twist:
I grew up, and I'm still not Morrissey.


But I can write you a mean love poem, and I'll do it on many occasions, even if I'm just meeting you. There won't be a second when I'm not falling in love with something, and, to be honest, I don't know how to live with (or without) that feeling.

I guess I'll just fall in love with trees, then
or something inanimate
to break my fall.

But in the meantime, some things you need to know before dating me are

That there are often days where I can't even stand to face the wind that greets me
and I flinch at every turn when I hear noise.
I'm more timid than I look and yet
I find comfort
in dark things, a fake sense of the macabre
and a firm grasp of words, see

I could make anyone want to want me
I just don't care to
because people are ******* terrifying.

And, in the end
when my star burns out,
all that is left in the center
will be old words
and photographs.
Number 5 - a spoken word piece. Inspired by Jamie Mortara's piece by the same name. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-BaO3iU2ICA
 Jun 2019
mel
no matter how hard
these winds blow and shake me
i stay  r o o t e d  with the Earth

storms exist to awake me
one of the first few
rhymes i ever wrote
*and still my favorite*
 Jun 2019
Madisen Kuhn
i could be that girl
whose voice is low and melodic
and coats your mouth with
acacia honey
whose eyes are the color
and depth of
midnight
whose presence is thick like
new york summers
rosy like
los angeles in early spring
if i braid flowers into my hair
if i write enough poems
if i learn to show the skin of my essence
but remain an abyss—
i will stop making art
when i become it
 Jun 2019
Christy Sandhu
i need my piece of space
i need peace
can you let go of me please
 Jun 2019
marshay lewis
Remember when we were younger?

In biology class when everything was tactile and new

Experimental and combustible

And we checked each others' pulses

To count and measure

To give reason to rhythm

And you found mine with ease

Cool fingers near the carotid

Unwanted sparks from lack of use

And when I went to you

Placing unclean hands between chin and collar

Trying to finds signs of life

And finding none

As you pressed my fingers further in

Insistent and sure of your steady heart

And it's ironic how years later

When your face is a fading memory

And your presence a ghost no longer haunting

That I realize I never knew

If you were really alive
 Jun 2019
Ann
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  to is what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"Keep your eyes closed, love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do."

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
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