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  Apr 2017 Emily Gray
Akira Chinen
Sing me a song of sea and death
and siren call and mermaid tale
Give me the truth of love
strung on a string of pearls
with gentle kisses circling your neck
Crash into me upon wave
and mist and bury me
beneath sand and time
and let me dream of a love
named after you and I
  Apr 2017 Emily Gray
Nick Moser
I always say that I let it slip away.

But that's not really true.

Because unfortunately,
To have let something slip away.

Means I would have had it in my grasp to begin with.
Write a letter. Stuff it away. Wonder what it did. Even to this day.
  Apr 2017 Emily Gray
Nancy Carnahan
sometimes I hope you lose sleep at night
thinking of what could have been
thinking of how you ruined the best thing to ever happen to you
thinking of all the memories and good times that we had
but mostly, I hope you’re remembering the little things
the things that someone only notices when they’re deeply in love
the things that you’ll look for in every other girl you meet
the things that make you weep because they were unique to me
the things that you'll never find in anyone else
like the way I twirl my hair back
or how bite my cheek before I cry
the way I laugh when I’m nervous
and the little red mark on my right hand that you always kissed
once in a while I wonder if you lose sleep over what I’m doing
if you’re hoping I’m just as lost as you are
hoping I haven’t moved on
or that I still pine over you the way you pine over me
well I don’t
you broke me
you changed me
you made me forget who I was in order to be better for you
you played the victim
you called it off
you deserve to be kept awake at night
for the ways that you have wronged me
  Apr 2017 Emily Gray
The battle over poetry
The soldiers fight
their words, their weapons.
The historic battlegrounds dedicated in honorable memorials,
studied in English classrooms everywhere.
The meek soldiers follow in the footsteps of the noble commanders that have paved the battlegrounds for them.

The quiet soldiers want to fight,
the drafted,
given the gift of perfect aim but can never choose the right target.

I join the fight,
The fight to express thoughts and beliefs
Your words, silver bullets, sink deep into my skin.
They do not reach my heart, however.
They sink deep into parts of me that will not **** me,
but will leave me screaming in pain.
The pain of your words cut deep.
I struggle to fight back,
my pain, my motivation to keep up the fight.

The drafted are invisible
The fight continues,
the soldiers longing to be commemorated for the pain they endured in the fight.
We are the drafted,
the unnoticed.
Our pens, our weapons
and this battle is far from over
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