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  Sep 2016 Jess F
I am but  a book
upon your shelf
- forgotten, misused,
my words blurred,
my paragraphs too long,

but whenever
you open me up
you do not read me,
you do not hear me out
- you open me to hear
my spine crack once more
and my pages
fall to the floor.
  Jul 2016 Jess F
Star Gazer
It had watched
her grow in a way
that a horticulturist
watched its own
creation sprout
and blossomed.
She had grown
like a rose; filled
with her own
thorns upon herself
that only came
to hurt others that
got too close but
in her own way,

Before every sunrise
It had opened its eyes
with a clank, like a coin
rattling inside a coin-
filled purse.
It was there to provide
the ambience of peak-
hour traffic; "Get off the
******* road you
******* lunatic. Where'd
you learn to ******* drive?"
would be the sound
that she woke up to every
morning. She has had
guests comment on its
vulgarity; but she defended
that it soothed her every
morning, and though
it was a recording
projected from speakers;
guests and visitors,
would denounce 'it'
as well as refute their
acceptance of 'it'.
She would gently tell it;
you're the best alarm,
and if she did not get up;
it would pull on her arm,
so she was always
moving in accordance to
her schedule.

She had been an orphan;
She still exists and lives,
as an orphan with her
orphan blood running
through her bloodstream;
and those who never
could understand what
it was like to be an orphan
would mutter "so you don't-
have a mum or dad, so what
it's not a big ******* deal;
it ain't like you're going to
be successful even if you did".
So came every night, though
the moon glowed upon her
pretty little face, she had
tears stream down her cheeks
that would reflect the moon's
gentle glow against her.
In a hollow home, nay!
In a hollow house, she
felt as though her sanity
was only stored by the whirring,
the buzzing, the sound that
mimicked a refrigerator from a
time before refrigerators were
considered 'in need of perfecting'.
On every night, it would read to her,
'as a mommy and daddy would'; she'd
use to say. Though it never had
an exciting tone and only ever
spoke in a monotonous way, she said
it had the mechanisms of being
the perfect parent a parent should
pursue to be.
It would read, every night 'Goldilocks
and the three bears' and though she had
grown up and grown old, it would
continue to read the same book and edition
as she had wanted. To her, listening to a
story was less to do with the story but
more to do with the comfort and reminder
that there is normalcy in her life that
mimics those of the child she had envied
at school. It would always after the
monotonous reading of 'Goldilocks
and the three bears', would include
a joke; "Do you wonder why the bears
had beds? I bet they bearly slept on them",
and though the joke was told a couple
thousand times, she had always giggled
at it's little joke. In the night, It would
close it's eyes, clank.

On one evening, she had invited a
male friend over for the night, it
would stand steadily still, inoperable
until commanded by her. It never
understood her connection to the
male friend, but it wasn't built to
understand. It watched as her mouth
connected to the male friend, it was
built with a action deciphering sequence,
so it determined that she was giving
him Cardiopulmonary resuscitation in a
standing position due to her lack of training.
It continued to let off its whirring sound,
an ordinary day ambient to her ears, but not
so much for her male friend. Her male friend,
in a quick procession of pushing her lips away to
saying "YOU'RE A FREAK. why do you have a
killing machine in your house?" He stormed out
before she even had a chance to explain its role
in her life.

In a stern and loud voice she screamed
'I want you to die!' and it responded in a gentle
voice, "what colour did you want to dye it?",
"******* and die!" she shouted with a flaring red face.
It did what it always does, responded to every command;
"There is no king here. That is an impossible request. Do
you have any other queries?" it had said in the most gentle
and softest voice that seemed almost like a whisper had it
not been monotonous. She shouted once again,
"DIE!" and as routine, it responded "A die is a cube
fitted with numbers to arrange a probability situation.
The sample space of a die is one to six".

She, tired of hearing it, muttered the words that
her late billionaire parents and maids regarded
I have a cell phone, it does all that you do."

'My job is done'
Said the android
As it closed its eyes
One final time.
  Jun 2016 Jess F
she jumped into
his blue eyes
(with the green flecks)
so readily
that she remembered
to take a breath
after she was
completely submerged
  Jun 2016 Jess F
Darrel Weeks
swimming against the tide today
And if you drown
It's better than drifting forever
  Jun 2016 Jess F
Chloe Muriel
You woke up at 3 am
Trying to figure out something
Messing with your head
Spooning with your bed
Felt the empty spaces
Filling it up with memories
Then you started to miss him
Still wanting kiss him
Those icy lips during winter
Never came back to bother
You fixed your bed wondering..
"Can i fix my heart as easy as this?"
  Jun 2016 Jess F
Chloe Muriel
Im walking with you
But theres a space between us,
That gave me sadness

(A haiku)
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