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 Oct 2013 hkr
marina
when i asked you why you hate
thursdays, your hands twitched,
and all i wanted
was to hold them close
all i wanted was for you to feel less scared for tomorrow.
 Oct 2013 hkr
Lilith Meredith
why is
 Oct 2013 hkr
Lilith Meredith
why is
the way your hands wrap around my name
the gentlest whisper
why is
the way my hand towel smells like your cologne
the cruelest heaven
why is
your absence, your space
the air where your chest should be
 Sep 2013 hkr
marina b
paradox
 Sep 2013 hkr
marina b
i ache because i have never felt your touch
but i worry if i felt it
i would ache even more
 Sep 2013 hkr
marina
you once told me that you had always
wanted to climb the water tower
at crescent lake park

so why don't you
i asked, and you shook your head

it's just a stupid dream

(but i didn't see anything wrong with
wanting to feel
above the rest of the world)
people are silly sometimes
 Sep 2013 hkr
Redshift
i saved all the tea my grandmother sent me
in her vacant-expression birthday
easter
christmas
thinking of you
cards.
thinking of you -
that is all
happy easter -
that is all
happy birthday -
that is all
not even an automated smile
a pre-written well-wish
the most primal of cards
full of tea.
i open the tea
smell it
hold it
look at it
decipher it
grandmother,
you send me a blank card
with your and grandfather's name
and a little baggy of tea
could you not at least say
i am sorry
is this tea an apology?
you always spoke through tea
but this tea i cannot decrypt
i saw you just the other day
i didn't say a word to you
hardly looked at you
i watched you sneak a picture of me with your old camera
laughing with my friends
is this tea
i miss you tea?

grandma,
it's ok.
this wasn't your fault,
it was your daughter's
i do miss you
i will save the tea you sent me.
 Sep 2013 hkr
Redshift
i try very hard not to fall in love with certain boys
boys that think i am a ball of yarn they can string along
care free
i get snarled
too easily
might be
the ginger in me

i especially avoid all boys with guitars
my heart is a six string
and they've got the pick
i don't like that

never fall for trumpet players, either
the myth about them being good kissers is false

i like rough and ready boys
with dirt under their fingernails
and autumn breezes in their hair
they catch up those green fields
in their eyes
look at me with them
and i
can't resist
that one
for some ******* reason

everyone says
"get a boyfriend, red"
but there aren't any boys in this small town
that are like that
and dad says
don't fall in love with southern boys
...sorry dad, these northern boys won't do
but the northern girls with the way they kiss...they keep their boyfriends up at night.
 Sep 2013 hkr
miranda schooler
i left flowers on your grave stone ,
only wanting to be close to you again .

i don't like you so cold in the dark ,
soon i'll love you 3 feet apart .
 Sep 2013 hkr
brooke
That one night.
 Sep 2013 hkr
brooke
you were looking for
a song by the Clash,
had this idea in your
head (something about
blue jeans) and you told
me don't worry about it
but I read the lyrics of
every single song by
them to see if I could
find it. As if part of
my self worth were
locating those
very words.
(c) Brooke Otto
 Sep 2013 hkr
Sarina
buried alive
 Sep 2013 hkr
Sarina
He lived in the perfect place
for a trailer park,
but his had the only wheels for miles. It
was a cemetery with just one

dead body,
a morgue with a single
black garbage bag.

We had a funeral for my hair
when he held
scissors to my skull, and swallowed my
motor cortex so I would never

run away – a promise
that he needed to check for silkworms
in case that is why my hair

stayed so soft.
My braids went into the plastic bag

and his tongue danced down my throat
daring me to move
saying he would love to
see me bend all my bones for him.

All his blankets were green
like the forest,
all his walls made of wood paneling –

me, the last young thing
and he buried me alive in his bad breath.
 Sep 2013 hkr
Sarina
bleach
 Sep 2013 hkr
Sarina
I like to leave strands of my hair in the sink of anyone
I have ever loved or hated
because when they clean their bathroom,
I want them to remember how many times I
cleaned up blood and puke and ***
in their name –

I do not want to be a ghost that silently haunts on skin
but so tangible, even their
house will remember how I feel to touch.
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