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  Jan 2015 Aver
Day
damnation* is loving the sun while you
are the moon,
refusing to touch Sleep because you'd
rather kiss her cousin,
knowing your words will eventually become
a tourniquet,
and filling your heart up
to the brim with
formaldehyde..

but believe me when i say;
i'd be ****** for you.
  Jan 2015 Aver
Joey Reams
I'm a raindrop on glass
Just one in a million
I rush to the flood,
passing the other raindrops,
stopping for nothing
Once I hit the ground,
I am no longer a raindrop

I become a puddle
Waiting with the others
We watch mother nature,
joining other puddles,
growing stronger
Once we're big enough,
We are no longer a puddle

We become a stream
Going with the flow
We slide down the street,
rushing next to each other,
searching for the end
Then we find it.

We fall down the drain
and separate from each other
I'm lost and alone
in a dark place
I don't know where I am
or where I'm going
but *I'm still moving
  Jan 2015 Aver
Bianca Fontejon
2am
11pm is for those who can't sleep,
bloods filled with rush;
because of the sweet texts they just can't wait to read.

1am is for the poets who just can't stop,
can't stop the thoughts entering --
entering their mind one by one.

And 2am is for the broken.
The ones who can't stop thinking,
Thinking of what might've been,
What could've been.
  Jan 2015 Aver
Sally Soe
I could learn to love you,
but that’s not the point.
It should burst out of my ribcage
With flowers and knives
Beautiful and bleeding
Singing with joy and
The pain of bullet wounds.

If we learned anything from love,
Maybe we wouldn’t love at all.
  Jan 2015 Aver
ryn
.
             *the *future is...a tornado of uncertain-
          ty• a swirling vortex, in its centre is
me•such power and speed, can ne-
ver see•can never foretell, it's hid-  
den debris•like clockwork, it will        
   make contact•by the second, bra-        
cing for next impact•the past is...      
  yet another•wild winds that echo      
     my mistakes as reminder•this twis-         
      ter within...tearing with no remo-    
           rse•destroying confident strong-
             holds, breaking feebly boarded
           doors•can't ease the rage...eat-
    en from the inside•won't stop
until...my beating heart had
        died•the present is...only this  
   frail little body•fighting huge 
battles that come incessantly  
  •fending off the future, con-        
    taining the past•not know-            
ing how long.......this disas-       
ter would last•but I'm still      
   here.....still holding integ-         
   rity......•still fighting this       
war waged in history's        
folly•will i be settl-
ed? will the winds
ever abate?•
will i ever
      come to    
terms...?
will i
ever
    acc-
          ept
                     fa      
                 t
               e
             ?
             •
  Jan 2015 Aver
Liz And Lilacs
I don't write for pity,
or attention or friends.
I write for myself,
I write instead of bleeding.
My poems are personal,
Not written for others.
I share them because
I want to touch someone.
Maybe we can all stop being alone.
I'm a mess, as is my poetry.
  Jan 2015 Aver
Christopher Lowe
My soul will sail away
And let the winds
From my troubling yesterdays
Fill its tattered sails
And carry it wayward
Bound for a better future

Although the waves will batter
And the thunder will crash
I know my vessel will reach harbor
Surviving to set sail yet again
When I find my soul restless
Longing for the next journey
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