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 Dec 2014 atlas
Lystra Barraquias
If love's art--- then I am the painter
and you, dear, my masterpiece.
Blood as His paint, the cross as His brush and our lives His canvass.
 Dec 2014 atlas
Catrina Sparrow
i've written a grip of confessional love poems on beverage napkins
strung them together with a dissociative understanding of time (like dental floss)
     wrung them out and hung them up to ripen on the line

mama always said not to name things that are only going to die
and i lied to her face when i told her i wouldn't

          i gave it a name

and i was going to send it your way
as if maybe seeing it all spelled out
would make you change your plans
     and stay

alas
     i'm quite certain that i blew my nose on the winning sonnet
and burried the rest with what was left of my tears

now i don't even write
     i just scream at the stars all night
as if my life's become a sailor-song
and this desert
          my decaying cabaret
this is total ****. ironic, really. i sat down in a futile attempt to illustrate the way that sometimes, saying exactly what you want to, just doesn't read well enough. i'll never really be capable of articulating the pain of these passed two months, and if i could, it'd read like ****. like this.
 Dec 2014 atlas
Beaux
Your eyes must be owned by a corporation
That soul so burdened by propaganda
You've got commercials running your brain
The internet runs through your veins
Rather a 'like', a 'view' or a 'share'
Living in a reality that isn't there
Add that filter to hide your tears
Post about your latest fears
Hide the things you truly hold dear
Because those things make you, You
But perhaps the blinded masses will do
Hide behind illuminated screens
Never letting them hear you scream
Passive aggressive love links now
God, society has turned to clowns
I want to touch a human soul
Yours, in fact, I'd like to hold
But you'll never see me standing here
Because I'm outside
And you're in there
 Dec 2014 atlas
Why
Introduction
 Dec 2014 atlas
Why
The face I show is a fake
It hides my real ache
I can't smile or laugh
Without breaking in half
So why do I try
When all I want to do is cry?
 Dec 2014 atlas
WickedHope
Rope
 Dec 2014 atlas
WickedHope
I
h
a
v
e
f
e
e
l
i
n
g
s
that
form
thou
ghts,
that
form
words,
that          form
sente            ­     nces,
that                       form
rope,                         which
ties                               itself
into a                            noose.
Your                         ­     words
are also                    a rope,
that saves me from
drowning.
Sorry if you can't read it.
Kinda.
 Dec 2014 atlas
Yasmin Greenfield
In a quest to be different
They all became
the same
Any song can sound sweet,
if you tune your tone appropriately,
and add a lyric,
with a melody
and I have seen where there is a life,
there is a song
but some songs are not only a love song
that notion was a loop, intense, black and blue passionate song
was not romantic

She was a sad song
and I thought I would know how to make it better
like if I could be the only to love her again,
I believed that everything would fall into a melodious love song
but  I lost a few lines of lyrics
and there was bit melody missing that I couldn't find
and I saw too many scratches on the disc
I couldn't let myself be made no longer
trying to fix her entirety.
.
@Musfiq us shaleheen
scratches on the disc
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