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 Jun 2016 Julia
r
Moonlighting
 Jun 2016 Julia
r
The work I do is not easy,
but it's not bad.
I'm glad to have it,
when it's all I've ever had.

I am a student of the night.
I wear a black patch
on my sleeve.

My teacher's name is Sleep,
and she goes by Dreams, too.

She moonlights by the creek
that flows like a gust of wind
through leaves I never knew,
places I've never been.

We sing songs about you, love.
This song's about you.
Most of me
Feels sorry for others suffering
And instead of complaining about the video buffering
I'm trying to showcase help
This world makes me say whelp
I have to be the source of all the solutions
But instead of finding conclusion
People just avert me with verbal intrusions
Telling me i care too much and I'm in delusion
But i think my life speaks other wise
But i don't expect you to know
I do expect better out of you
Because that's how i think
I know it's oddly distinct
Most of us are just souls tapering off into the rink
Ready to get pushed and shoved down
 Jun 2016 Julia
Victoria
priorities
 Jun 2016 Julia
Victoria
my self control is failing

those tiny moments of happiness have been prioritized over the hours of analysis and regret
 Jun 2016 Julia
Remus
My eyes watch you approvingly
while you only watch me foolishly.

I claim to love the constellations,
but only because their stations
are found upon your skin.

Who would I be to fall in love?
Would I fall above
someone who has never been?

Would your kiss
feel like pure bliss?

I know mine would not.

Is it possible to miss someone
when you're not a loved one?

Is it possible to miss you,
a boy who always looks blue.

I don't mean sad,
I mean the hottest form of fire where it appears mad.

Your bronze curls
shine like pearls.

You're blinding me,
and it's hurting me.

You're so bright and warm,
while I'm dim and a storm.
 Jun 2016 Julia
Michelle Garcia
Write it all down. The way you feel when you wake up on a rainy Saturday morning, the howling thunder of a summer storm, how your heart races like hurricane winds at the simple thought of tomorrow. Write about your best friend's laugh at three in the morning and how blissful it is to have found a hand that squeezes yours back. Write when you feel as if your soul is perched at the very top of a mountain, and when it sinks to the deepest part of your mind's treacherous oceans. Write when your heart is dancing like a ballerina spinning in a white tutu. Write when it is still. Quiet. Lost. Write when you've fallen in love, when you've lost at a cruel game, when you fall asleep wanting to erase every memory you've ever experienced, like the songs you cried to when you were thirteen and swore you were falling apart. Write it all down, the bright colors that melt into fond afternoons, the bittersweet tastes, the textures that scar, the aches and pains. Write when words can no longer express what exists inside of you. Do it anyway. That is what love is.
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