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 Apr 2014
Pete Badertscher
Meeting someone,
someone that strikes my fancy,
I take my soul out of my pocket--
expecting them to do the same.

My soul,
like origami that has been folded and refolded,
is worn at the edges and moth eaten,
has burns and scorch marks,
alcohol and coffee stains,
greasy finger prints,
smudge marks,
and small bits torn from it…

Together-- there on the street,
we compare souls on the corners of the world.
Some souls are almost new--
starched and pressed,
in a vacuum sealed bag.

Others, when taken out,
are even more used up than mine--
some break and blow apart in the wind
like glowing confetti,
leaving a dull grey stare in its owner’s pale eyes.

Then after we have compared souls
I fold mine back into its origami balloon shape
and put it back
in my pocket.

Souls are not a different distant object
they do not fit in a lock box.
Every act of compassion…
or apathy,
hunger…
or gluttony,
love…
or ****,
The mundane…
or the extraordinaire
creates a new mark,
a new fold,
a different shape,
a different you….

...than existed just a moment before.
Still feels a bit drafty, but I like it.
 Apr 2014
Abi Sweeney
Falling                                        
for                  
you
is like being with

a cancer patient.
 Apr 2014
little moon
while waiting for the next girl in barnes & noble you can pull out an anatomy book and trace my bones like you wish you could have done before when it was still a viable option
you inched her name into our conversations because it tasted like honey and devil's food cake on your tongue, looked away when i begged for answers
left me writing you letters you never read and calling your name and wishing you good morning like the good girl i wanted to be even though i’d grown so weak
behind your frames who did you see when you saw me? i want to know, i want to know if the guy before saw the same wide-eyed half-smiling half-crying picture of naivety
i hate sensing patterns
you knew
you knew
you knew
but you did it anyway
i knew
i knew
i knew
the ending very well
and i let it happen anyway as if i didn’t know any better
i kept waiting for the broken traffic light to change.
i shivered because my cardigan was too thin,
high-low chiffon skirt pulling an unwanted marilyn and sending chills as i stepped onto the platform,
phone in my hand at 63%, got texts from everybody but you
body trembling on the walk home under the moonless sky.
from now on trusting is going to feel like an olympic sport
i've never been that athletically adept but i'll learn to pole vault the hell away next time when i see the signs loud and flagrant.
third time's the charm right?
wrote this last night when i was feeling bummy.

tonight, on the other hand, was so beautiful though
#eh
 Apr 2014
Miranda Kramer
O-
I was anemic and you were O-. Life was draining from my eyes and you were my vital oasis. I needed you. You were right for me, right?

You were the universal donor to alleviate my sadness, and I accepted you without question. I let your blood consume my own. Because your blood was simultaneously filling me with oxygen, without you I couldn’t breathe. I needed you. You were right for me, right?


But for every drop of blood you contributed to my body, a new tear drop fell. Every drop of blood whispered a new insecurity. You filled me with your own self-doubt serving to emphasize my own. But not once did I wince at the pinch of the needle, or cringe at the sight of the IV. I needed you. You were right for me, right?

But so often times we fall for O- when we are AB+, because they feel right, because they seem perfect. And we fall because without those 6 quarts of blood we may cease to exist. We forget that our heart can beat alone without someone else’s name pumping through our veins. O- blood has common side-effects of insecurity and sadness that overpower the feeling of limited livelihood.

Wait for your AB+. It’s worth it. I promise.

~m.k.
 Apr 2014
spacequeen
We dreamed of becoming more than what we were.
And we escaped in the smoke that filled the room.

Our souls trapped...
Jailed behind our ribcages.

So we sat there...
Changing out the records.
Mouthing all the lyrics.

Waiting for the perfect moment to speak words.
Those times never came...

Instead we became more silent.

Inhaling the smoke.
Exhaling it all the same.

And I sat there wondering what else was out there.

I felt so comfortable in your surroundings.
Too high to realize what was really going on.

I broke the cycle.
The routine of a roller coaster ride that wasn't fun.
Longing for something more.
Wondering if I deserved better.

Even when I thought you were the best...
I started to question that.

My love for you may never die...
But my addictions did.

My tears brought on the clouds.
And I had to follow the sun.

No more.
No more tears.
No more love to give to you.
 Apr 2014
Michael Amery
*** slave workers
Bent over stained beds
In forgotten brothels
Far from country and home
Have more joy than you
Or I.

Skeleton thin children
With skin stretched
Over illness bloated bellies
In poverty ridden streets
Under a relentless sun
And equally relentless culture
Kick a worn ball around
And feel more hope than you
Or I.

Flea ridden mutts
Runts of the brood
Feasting on garbage
Shying from the kicks
Of rotten teens
And sour drunks
Reciprocate more love
From the hand of a kind stranger
Than you
To I.
 Apr 2014
Brianna Ki
they
say when
it rains, it pours
yet these streets look
pretty dry to me. is this a
mask? or is this really me i see?
 Apr 2014
Brianna Ki
This reoccurring nightmare overrules me deep in sleep
Won’t wake me from my slumber,
Imprisons me in this keep


I try to run, I try to scream.
This is my certainty
Stuck in this bad dream


There, all about me are these stone cold walls
Over-protecting, so suspicious, untrusting …
They guard my soul.
Asking why are they so **** tall.


Restricting my heart I’m bound.
Powerless, I trail this authority
What hope is there now?


I pray in this frigid nightmare for the strength that I won’t break
Eager to be released from this lonely place
I’ll lie right here. My sanity they can’t take.
Written Oct. 2nd 2013
 Apr 2014
Brianna Ki
Mirror, mirror on this wall, I’ll remember you as you fall.

In slow motion you crumble, you stood so strong.
Keeping all records of their wrongs, but why?
Your burden was what you reflected, what you surround.
You fell in the open, but no one heard a sound.

Discouraged and misplaced, you shattered
All of your pieces scattered.

Broke apart to create a work of art
Written Sept. 25th 2013
 Apr 2014
Hayleigh
Raindrops dance on my shoulders
as the fires inside of me
begin to smoulder.

Distraction is an amazing thing.
 Apr 2014
Cassidy Shoop
i never thought
i was the type of girl
whose tragedies turned into fears
until i caught a glimpse
of my demons
creeping back up on me;
this time,
they came from the reflection
in your eyes
instead of his suffocating tongue
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