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 Sep 2015
ryan
There's something about dark mornings,
That make kissing so exquisite,
and how my hands reach for your curves,
Like you are air,
and my lungs are starved of it,
I can't wait to touch you,
Breathe life into your neck,
and watch your legs part,
Because you can't resist,
How much I love you
How much I need you,
Because you can't resist,
Being **Mine
 Sep 2015
AprilDawn
still opened to
June
your presence bookmarked
by well worn memories
that dwell in every corner
every space
on the wall
jam packed
with life treasures
my mind can't erase
your spot in this place
and struggles to accept
what actually is fact
remnants of you
are all
that exist
Saying goodbye  to Gary a little bit more everyday
 Sep 2015
Corset
Infrared light
black light secrets
blue battered sun
yellow
outrage,
tricksters in paradise
loading up
the gun
wild fire
caged in Ice
made it twice
as fun
beer bellied
acrobats
bouncing off the wall
blaring on
the run
caught the bus
to
Cambridge,
Eyebrows filling
the space
of another persons
world,
underlining
their names,
curious
questions
bright with colors,
the honey fist
of Isis biting a coin
for authenticity
pull me from the abyss,
endless sleep
these Maritime martyrs
at the expense of a soul
does she really know,
to what depths
we dive to save
time in squares,
trenches,
backwater streets
in tired boxes,
men throw shoes
at singing alley cats,
tears and thoughts
litter the sheets.
 Sep 2015
Rochelle R
Storm

Clouds arrive like villains in smiles,
Their threat proudly displayed upon their menacing faces.
The winds are rolling, freshly born.
Waves get restless.
They know a violent cascade is looming.
The impending chaos is tangible.
The cosmos hold their breath.
Time stands still.
Fear,
Both inciting it
And cowering in it,
Is dominant here.
Lightning flashes a glimpse of what's to come.
Thunder speaks the words we instinctively know.
Calm resonates the precipice of disaster.
A vibration tethered for too long,
Shakes a warning to run.
Hesitation.
It's too late.
The eye is focused.
I am the storm.
I am here.
I am a flight risk.
 Sep 2015
Akira
He told me my scars weren't beautiful
And I told him that no one could ever really admire a masterpiece
Without taking a few steps back
Your scars make you who you are and no matter what you are beautiful
 Aug 2015
kiera
words on every corner
reach out with LED lights and capital letters
OVERSIZE LOAD and RECYCLED FASHION
demand an appetite for peripheral attention
bashful graffiti is tentative to show his smirk
unsure if he is welcome in this delicate urban zoo
where ponytailed dogs and homeless hands
share the same sallow sidewalk bricks

look up!
see the royal sorbet sky
he raises his wispy brows
as a crane lowers its dragon neck
into the safety of its concrete den
how dare such a beast encroach  
on the heavenly domain of clouds

all day a man sits in contradiction
crisp collar and stolen office chair
handing out desperate news for dollar bills
as tattered as his tiny hands

I wonder if the cigarette ****
feels worthless, now alone
dreaming to once again be puffed
being flattened by rubber soles

years ago this was home land
rich, taut and quietly loved
the earth soaked in moon's pearl balm
where his eyelashes touched the ground

Everybody knows the city always listens
through the scattered trees left here to stand
when our footsteps seem like only feathers
lost in the echoes of civilization

street now veiled by velvet
a cradle for eyes to close
the lamplight is my guiding star
i see illuminated faces
in hazy windows
and the flash and beam
of passing car
work in progress!
I sat at door of bathroom wishing he would open it. I banged for hours trying to wake him up. I started panicking, I couldn't breathe.. I cried hysterically rummaging the room looking for a small object to use as a key. Nothing.. I couldn't find anything. Think. Think.. What am I going to do now? Okay, think.. I started shoving the door with my right shoulder and it hurt so bad but I couldn't stop, not until the door was open. It started cracking then it broke with the **** hanging off. I pushed the door open but his body was in the way of me completely opening it. My eyes began to fill with tears as I started screaming his name for him to wake up. I pushed the door open as much as I could and entered. The sight was horrifying.. He laid there pale with a spoon on the floor and a needle still stuck in his arm. I slowly took the needle out of his vein on his left arm. Was he dead? I weeped, banging on his chest. Wake up.. please.. Instantly I turned the shower on. I grabbed him by his upper body and got him in enough for the water to hit him. Nothing.. He wasn't moving, he wasn't breathing.. I slammed the water off and started dragging him into the bedroom. I laid on his lifeless body. He was cold.. My baby was so cold.. God I needed him just as much as he needed his fix. I didn't want to be in this alone. I didn't want to be alone. I used the broke down hotel phone and called the ambulance. I kiss his forehead and walked out the room. I tried to take a deep breath of fresh air but it just felt like I was swallowing a gigantic pill. I started gasping for air and my stomach went into knots. Him dying wasn't the hardest part, walking away was...
 Aug 2015
Javaria Waseem
paint me with all those messy colors and broken brushes.
paint me with your rough hands and scrappy fingertips.
paint me with all your love and your regrets.
paint me in a dark room with uneven breath.
paint me with dried out lips and the tip of your tongue
paint me all night till you're halted by the sun.
 Aug 2015
flustered
she hadn't
felt anything
for so
long
she started
to thank people
for hurting her.
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