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 Apr 2015 elizabeth
Emma S
Dreams
 Apr 2015 elizabeth
Emma S
I dream of oceans
The cold and blue yet so welcoming
I dream of being alone
Being anonymous in a new city
In a new world
I dream of leaving
Maybe closer to the coral reefs
Maybe further from you
I dream of happiness
The pure satisfaction of hearing waves crash onto the shore
I dream of you
How you haunt me and I can't escape
I dream of oceans
How they could make me disappear so easily
 Apr 2015 elizabeth
Joshua Haines
It was four o'clock in the morning. Robert wondered why his name was Robert. He decided to get rid of the "Bert" because it was the name of a Sesame Street character or the name of a ******* in Tempe, Arizona. Then again, he thought, "Hey, just Rob makes me sound like I change tires for a living or that I work out at a gym that discriminates fat people and blacks." Rob or Robert took a second to evaluate his last thought and if thinking "and blacks" made him a racist person.

Robert sat on a bench and wondered if the woman beside him was expecting Forest Gump-esque wisdom.

Robert thought of a friend he had in grade eight, named Alexander. He thought of how Alexander had a glass eye. Robert wondered how Alexander had a glass eye but could not remember or did not know why Alexander had a glass eye. Robert, then, concluded that sometimes he will not know something and how that is okay because most people don't know anything--it's a collection of approximates that stay in our heads, he thought. Robert asked himself if his last thought made him intelligent or dumb and pretentious. Robert decided that he did not know. How meta, he thought. Robert, then, decided to stop using the word "meta" so much, because it made him feel like a professor with bitterness and something to prove.

Robert watched his sister struggle with an eating disorder. She was in a hospital bed, with an IV in her arm. Robert did not know if he would struggle with anything as hard as his sister struggled with anorexia. Robert, then, had intense but fleeting anger at every person that bragged about being anorexic or made it seem cool.

Robert sat on his toilet and wondered what his true identity was and what his true nature was. He wondered what was inherent and what was synthetic. Robert, then, wondered if a synthetic personality was inherent. Robert asked himself if he was a good person. He wasn't sure if sitting on the toilet, in his grandmother's house, and ******* to interracial ebony teen ****, on his iPhone, made him a good person or not. His concerns soon past, though, as soon as Lauren started to **** the pizza guy's white ****.

Robert walked down the street and was contemplating some of the issues that plagued his ****-infested mind, while he was on the toilet. Robert saw a girl running from a guy. Robert asked himself if he was a hero or inherently good. Robert, then, concluded that he was inherently a coward, since he did nothing and hoped that somebody else would save her.

Robert didn't meet a girl and knew that no one would write prose about his meeting a girl and their mutual love for one another. Robert was eating a steak sub, while thinking this.

Robert returned to the hospital, to pick up his sister. On the way home, his sister talked about how attractive her nurse was. Robert asked, "What did he look like?" His sister, then, said, "It wasn't a he. My nurse was a girl." Robert was okay with his sister being attracted to girls, but hoped that she didn't get more than him or more attractive girls than him, because, for some reason, that would make him feel insecure. Robert decided to stop eating so many steak subs and to work out. Robert asked his sister if she wanted to get steak subs. She said, "sure".

Robert was working out in his basement. He heard the sound of retching, upstairs. Robert followed the sound of the vomiting and opened a bathroom door. He saw his sister stick her finger down her throat. He said to his sister, "That isn't anorexia." His sister said, "I know. There's a lot you don't know about me." Robert said, "I'm sorry."
 Aug 2014 elizabeth
Hannah Beth
The events of last night
tattooed on my mind

The look in your eyes
Glassy and drunken
Searching for mine

And when they met
And your lips found
Mine so feverish and
Desperate
Those few moments alone
Your tongue tinged with *****
To match my own
A kiss betwixt night
and dawn
Your arms found my waist

No words could be uttered
For fear of memories found when
we wake
Experimental but I like this so I figured I'd post it
 Aug 2014 elizabeth
Joshua Haines
Punk lips in perpetual paralysis,
and they're too afraid to let them kiss.
Too afraid to try to let it last
because of the blurs in their past.

I think the kids are in trouble.
Hanging out with temporary people;
making the wrong times never stop.
Smoking dreams with glass lovers
to indie sonnets and neon power pop.

The world knows they can pretend,
and it's their hearts they can't defend
from the illusion of what they could be,
and the loneliness of what they'll never see.

They skate the pavement until the sun sits,
and drink ***** from water bottles until their hurt slurs.
It's the preparation of tomorrow and what it may not bring
that makes every moment before, everything.

They're scared because it's real,
and I'm scared because they're scared.
 May 2014 elizabeth
ZWS
P****
 May 2014 elizabeth
ZWS
You're so dangerous with your profane paraphernalia
Your pelvis postures pandering favor
The line of your stomach embossed by the fire is like a pasture for me
So paranoid with your pacifistic lust
As you proceed to please me with your posture so slightly
And I attempt to pursue oh so politely
You make me perk up like a peacock just with one peak
You're aware of every petty palpitation you can feel just under my sleeve
You play me like a piano, so plush with your lust politics
Pandering for a pardon of my ***** talk poignancy
I part you like Pluto from your orbits serene hum
I'll pleasure you, pleasure you until you're purple like a plum
A pastimes poetises to be written with pleasing lead
You plan every move like a predator in my bed
You're polarizing, plump, and pampered like a pageant doll
Pilfering every plausible pause with a pose of voice, your moan
Seizing the post with your post - modern pompous pouncing
Prompted like Pisces to postulate your prognosis
Lifting your posterior like the pun of a phaliccy
Pillaging me like a pandemic, a plague
Something to be paraded by paganistic plauds
Your pale skin is like playwear for sins
You're pinning me plastered with the play of your grin
Such a pretty motion picture to paint in the prison of your promise
****** in a crinoline,
****** of Solitude,
spreading immensely
like a tulip-flower.

In your boat of light,
go -
through the high seas
of the city;
through turbulent singing,
through crystalline stars.
****** in a crinoline
through the roadway's river
you go,
down to the sea!
 Feb 2014 elizabeth
maybella snow
swirl me at the bottom
of your drink, contemplating
the thought, of leaving it
warm and flat,
not the best part
of anything.

breathe me in
like the last little bit
of your cigarette.
you lit me up and drew
me in, I'm a killer at heart
not in nature
but step on me
when you're done
*chuckle*
 Feb 2014 elizabeth
Jessie
Revolver
 Feb 2014 elizabeth
Jessie
Don’t let me wake up please
I don’t want to wake up with thoughts like these:
Love? Is that some sort of cheese?
Don’t let me wake up thinking
I’m worth more dead than alive
I don’t want to wake up by your side
I don’t want to open my eyes
If you aren’t who I dream of at night

Don’t let me wake up with regret
I haven’t felt much regret yet, yet,
I feel like it’s coming faster than an air jet
Filled with important people I have never met
I don’t want to wake up
Wondering when it went wrong
Trying to remember, but forgetting the song
Wondering if I should have known all along

Don’t let me wake up as my mother
Don’t let me wake up as my father
I want to wake up like a lover
With roses by my bed and not a revolver.
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