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My wife, a psychiatrist, sleeps
through my reading and writing in bed,
the half-whispered lines,
manuscripts piled between us,

but in the deep part of night
when her beeper sounds
she bolts awake to return the page
of a patient afraid he'll **** himself.

She sits in her robe in the kitchen,
listening to the anguished voice
on the phone. She becomes
the vessel that contains his fear,

someone he can trust to tell
things I would tell to a poem.
 Oct 2013 Egeria Litha
Driftwood
Some days the clocks move the opposite way depending on her mood. She could never control the amount of time she needed. Just the objects that measured how long she had been lost. 4 am had always come much too quickly when she left for work. I always tried to be conscious to see her off and help her stop crying. Absence makes the heart grow weaker and the absence of sleep did the same to her emotions. All that is remembered for sure is the rustle of winter coats, wet skin, nausea, and ice crunching beneath boots. Could I have expected I would have ever appreciated sadness?
 Oct 2013 Egeria Litha
Emma B
Right place
Wrong time
needed space
      not mine.

couldn't talk
too scared
didn't knock
         I cared.

your eyes
blue, clear
in the skies
     I'm here.

my fault
but i
shed salt
wonder why.

Can't say
everything
please stay
let's sing.
Two hands
Longing for each other's warmth
Searching for one another
In the darkness

Their fingers tremble
Finding comfort in their suffering
They inch a tiny bit closer
Such a simple thing meant so much more

Their hands finally become one
The darkness became weary
Their interlocked bones gave their hearts a place to rest
When pain and fear had turned and left
This is very messy and I am very sad
There is no such thing as your voice.
 Sep 2013 Egeria Litha
Alyssa
A piano I was born to be. But not just black and white because my fingernails are blue except for three of them. I feel safer in fresh white sheets and 8 foot deep water than I do by your side. You are a dangerous convict who has never committed a felony but you are also the vulnerable grandmother who has a mean right hook.

One time I sat and watched a tree fall and **** the ground almost, shot it right in the center and left a crater for critters to crawl. Adult hood should be a lot more scarier than my childhood. But it isn't. Fear of the Inevitable is irrational because God is inevitable and so is Buddha and Jesus and any other deities. Speaking of diets, my mother went on one and lost a lot of money (weight, too) because I could have told her for free but parents are a weird thing because they always say they're looking out for you but instead all they do is look down (or up depending on how tall you are). I'm 5'3" but I like to think I'm 5'2" but I act like I'm 6'4" but I feel like I'm 4'3".

And every day is a struggle when you aren't the same height as you feel.

The gas in my car goes quick and so does my temper and my friends. When waterfalls crash another boat is built to break. Whoever created the car also created the car crash and that deserves a round of applause because it is beautiful and destructive and just the way i like it. I'm a ******* so when people tell me to cheer up I take it to offense, but a fence gouged my stomach once and I told all my friends it was my appendix which is an appendage you don't need like your heart when it turns cold because no one can thaw ice without melting it to a puddle.
this was written at 3 am so im terribly sorry if it makes sense to no one else but me
I'm getting lost on purpose.
Going down the bad roads,
Looking out for no one not even myself

I'm sick of this place, there's too much
That already has a tie.
I need something free.

I figure ill **** up a little more,
Maybe find myself in the reflection
Of some gas station mirror in the middle of no where.

I think I'm destined to be happy
Just not today
And not here.
 Sep 2013 Egeria Litha
Emily
A scalpel or incision will leave me with an evil vision
Torn from religion, anthropomorphic beast of nihilism
Kissing the devil's daughter
My raps are food for fodder and sauder
To grow the model of society run by hate and broken bottles
I don't coddle your misconceptions
Your life has no direction
Except a knife splitting your intestines
Internal infections lead me to beckon
My hate is not strong enough
I'll cut you in sections, leave you in pieces
My hatred denies Jesus
At the end of the day, your conception of reality should be aborted like a fetus
Death meets you with open eyes
Defeat you, beat you, and watch you cry
Contemplating suicide
The hatred of mind is something not easy to find
My troubled yet wonderful and deep lover of a best friend wrote this tonight. He's amazing, I love him. His poetry has the potential to move people. My heart breaks when I think of his self loathing.

© Peyton 2013
‘How much more can one bear?’
Her words almost emerged from the rain
And echoed in the droplets’ din on the soil,
‘How much and how much more?’
Her voice rose above the thunder.
She was looking weird in the lightning’s flash.
‘The first man in my life left before I was a woman,
Let woe befall him I don’t remember his face.
He left me for the feasting vultures and wolves
And the devourers spared nothing but my bones.
God, I’ve no faith in him, played a greater devil,
From that lust of rain, a drop planted in me a seed
That birthed in this debauched heart a seed of greed
Of hope, of life, of a love of my flesh and blood,
One that I could bring and nurture with pride.
But my womb infested with the rivers of poison
Couldn’t ripen it enough to drop on earth
And there I was alone on the rough wild sea
With no land on sight, no shore to anchor,
Floating aimlessly where no light would ever shine’.

‘You write so much about loneliness and suffering,
Make it up having seen so little of the real face of it.
But I’ve lived them, each day sinking evermore
Into pits from where my agony’s cry couldn’t be heard.
How much more can one bear, how much more I still have to?’
Her words fell like thunder as the rain lashed the earth.

I knew the vainness of all the pictures I painted!
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