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 Sep 2014 Aquinas
Melody Goodner
my stomach is now
a graveyard
you killed all of
the butterflies
Locked away in a cell, a little cell, where the ground is below me, and theirs no wall to protect me, when the wind blows I feel every ******, when the rain falls I feel every wet drop, when the snow falls I feel nothing but pain, I feel cold, not freezing from the outside, but cold on the inside like I have nothing there I'm hollow like a log, but on the outside everything freezes but me and my spot, it's spring oh the warmth, how I wish I could enjoy it, I remember way back when I used to make leaf piles and jump in, and then make them again then jump back in, and kept doing that till it was time to eat, but after I Ate I did it again and again and again until it was time for bed, as I'm trapped those are the only thoughts that me from doing totally insane and just say one day I GIVE UP, those memories gives me hope that one day I will get out, I will break free, but for right now it's hot, now I long for as breeze, even at night it's blazing, ever time I see the sun come up I long for, confess something, all my regrets, once I said I regret not finding love, because now that's what I long for, for someone to hold me, kiss me, tell me they love, but that will never happen because deep down I know the truth, I know, that I'm going to be stuck in this trap for the rest of my life, how ironic don't you think
 Sep 2014 Aquinas
Connie Buchan
A long day of running errands, looking here and there for things you think you need. It’s tiring to hobble around going slowly pretending you are looking but you are really resting.
The body gives out far too easily. Not giving a care that the mind still thinks you are 30 something or even younger. Back when that was true, 56 was old. Not anymore. Perspectives change as life does. I guess it is suppose to be that way.
Now more than when I was younger I have time to notice things like the odd colour of the atmosphere. It isn’t just the sky, it’s all the air around too. It’s a golden closeness, not just what is above the trees. Everything seems to glow with a richness. A cluster of leaves glows. The green grass, a plush carpet. And the sky! The sky is the colour of butterscotch pudding. Rich, deep, warm, sweet, slowly flowing. All those things have nothing to do with colour really but yet the sky is that colour. The sense of sight awakes al the others.
The mind is an amazing thing, allowing you to form and feel even when there is nothing there but air. Being human is a remarkable opportunity.

Connie Buchan
August 31, 2014
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