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 Apr 2015 Kate Breanne
Mike Essig
When you hear
the methamphetamine
buzz of a bullet
just missing your ear,
you wake up and know
you are really alive.
   ~mce
Somethings just jar us awake. This is one.
 Apr 2015 Kate Breanne
Lunar
from rain,
should i turn into a storm?
howling like the wind,
making noise,
to get you to hear me?
more raindrops; more tears,
to make you feel
drenched in remorse?
harsher and faster,
much like a hurricane,
to get you to see
how messed up i am?
when i'm stronger
like the storm,
would you love me more?
The second part of 'love the rain—love me'.

(j.m.)
See me, how I rain through the ceiling
believing what part of me you failed to reach.
Tell me, how you tried to tree speak
but forests reek of my death unwinding in your ears.
Follow me, into your dusty attic
to tell the bats and make our story last forever.
Now sleep, my fragile murderess
sewing my soul into the seams of your pillow.
Day 19 of NaPoWriMo.
 Apr 2015 Kate Breanne
Zac Hill
Oh come with me my sweet
Lets be free
Take my hand and let me show you my world
A free world
Don't let the shackles of society tell you no
Open your heart and show me your soul
Lets feel free to dance under the glimmering sky
Feel free to let others watch as we become one
Lets be free
Free to be slick and sly
Roll with me into the fields of sapphire and laugh as loud as we want
Show me your roar and take the lead
Society says we're not meant to be
Shut up I don't care what they say
Lets be free to connect the stars the way we want them to be
Shape the clouds to our hearts desire
Take my hand and lets be free
Show me what you got my sweet
So we can be free
Sometimes I feel I can be truly free through the world of my own imagination. Albert Einstein once said Imagination is more important than knowledge. **** right! With our endless imagination we can truly be free and not trapped in the shackles of the limit bound knowledge we live in.
Right as he begins to drift off to sleep, kiss his forehead.

Be his sunrise. Make him coffee in the morning, even if you do not want any. If he holds your hand, grasp his in return, with all of the love in your body. Feel his pulse; his heart, pumping blood through his veins, through his hands, through his fingers, which wrap around yours with passion and life. Let it consume you.

This way, when all is said and done, he will remember your lips on his sleepy skin, and how he was protected at his most vulnerable...how his mind could rise peacefully with your help. He'll look at his open palm and wonder if yours is warm, and he can almost feel you intertwined with his lonely bones.

It may sting in the moment, but you've created a fire within him that will never burn out, and all you can do is hope that the next set of bones interlocking with his will be well worth his time. You've given him standards. You've given him what every soul deserves. You've given him love. And what ache isn't worth love?
When the sun sets and the moon rises,

The demons come out to play,
with the minds of the innocent.
Torturing them with cruel words, cruel intentions.

And what if the innocent play along?
Are they really so innocent.
Torturing themselves with cruel words, cruel intentions.

Drowning in the hopelessness of the innocent.

Breathing seems like a job,

Death seems like a chore.

Living is hell.

Nightmares.

The innocent succumb to the demons.
I do not own this.
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