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 Nov 2014
blair asher
iii
i.** take a lesson from the way watercolor paint bleeds through notebook paper
ii. if i lose my mind and we lose our clothes i promise to never lose our hands and i hope you never hate me when the sun is up
iii. you made your bed now lay in mine
iv. my death wish is you telling me that you're sorry over and over again
v. all of these streetlights won't stop staring at me
vi. your eyelids, someone wants to kiss those and no it's not me okay it is
vii. what do you mean you don't keep all of my exhales in a glass jar
viii. i loved a thing once and then i died
ix. **** the world and then don't text it back the morning after
x. **** your love is my benzodiazepine
xi. are we making love or sulfuric acid
xii. how it is vs. how i want it to be vs. how it should actually be
xiii. oh, you didn't hear? your raspy screams and hollowed eyes aren't enough anymore
xiv. and now every car crash sounds like the last time you ever said my name
xv. pretty sure i have john f. kennedy's brain
xvi. you whispered "i love you" and it sounds more like an apology than anything
xvii. i have no poetry left inside of me, just a lot of white paint
xviii. accidentally bashed my head into a wall on purpose today and yes, i still have a mind and yes, you're still on it
 Aug 2014
Matthew Hundley
Call number one
I was going to tell you
How much of a ***** you were
For making me feel like this
But I hung up

Call number two
I was going to tell you
That everything was your fault
And you were the reason
We would never work out
But I hung up

Call number three
I was going to remind you
Of all the things you said
To me the last time I saw you
But I hung up

Call number four
I was going to scream
Scream until my lungs exploded
And the world went black
But I hung up

Call number five
I contemplated driving
To your house
In the pouring rain
And tell you everything in person
But I hung up

Call number six
I remembered how your smile
Used to make life
A little more bearable
But I hung up

Call number seven
I remembered how your eyes
Light up the sky
Because the stars were jealous
But I hung up

Call number eight
I gave up all hope
Of trying to make myself
Not want you
But I hung up

Call number nine
I decided that I would say
Everything I could
To get you back
But I hung up

Call number ten
I started to cry
My hands were violently shaking
As I tried to hold the phone
But I hung up

And then came call number eleven
I heard your favorite song
And I looked down

Call number eleven
You told me
That you were sorry
And then you hung up
 Aug 2014
Preston
Once there was a boy
Who became a cog when he entered the big machine
When he started to slow down and creak
They medicated him to keep him going
When he graduated with a Bachelor's he became a gear
And when he began to crack from the pressure
He considering protesting, but didn't because that's what it meant to be an adult
So when he finally snapped, people were surprised they hadn't seen the signs
And he spent three months in a white room
When he was released he sat on a stoop silently
No one knew whether he ever left it or slept or ate
Because no one noticed him
Except film students who would use him in time elapsing shots
So when he stepped in front of a bus one day
Only Jesus was there to stop him
And then he died anyway.
i wrote this a couple easters ago, when I was sad and ******* because I only went to a church for something I no longer believed in just so I could get brunch with my family. I don't know if it was because I felt like I was a hypocrite or if I was just mad being there.

— The End —