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 Jan 2012 Kyla
JA Doetsch
one plus one is one
whenever we're together.
math teachers hate me
 Jan 2012 Kyla
Collette Wilson
Mad
 Jan 2012 Kyla
Collette Wilson
Mad
She's stark raving mad
they tell me. But I think
of a wild-eyed dreamer,
hands to the heavens,
splayed,
longing with long fingers
to entice those lights
into moonlight sonatas that would make
Beethoven proud.

And I decide it might not be so bad
to be star-craving mad.
 Jan 2012 Kyla
Collette Wilson
I.

sometimes my thoughts are like
dead dandelions

fragile
delicate

and it only takes a breath
to lose them.

II.**

sometimes my thoughts are like
dead dandelions

fertile
intricate

and it only takes a breath
to use them.
 Jan 2012 Kyla
Odi
Blood is not thicker than water
Just harder to wash out

Me the perpetual messiah
Trying to fix
all broken things
The never-ending, savior complex-

Like that bird we found in our backyard
When I was five;
And I had to learn that
"All living things die-"

I wish mom would've taught me that
"You cant save everyone"
Instead.

You are not a bird
You don't suffer from broken wings
Your wound's are internal
Invisible

Forever perplexing the mind of
thousands of
boggled doctors

Like I was supposed to pick up
What an X-Ray couldn't.

And inject you with some secret serum
That escaped from my lips
I spent so much time
Trying to clasp your wounds shut
So much energy
But you bled out
Right in front of me

You aren't a friggin' bird.

And I cant save you.
 Jan 2012 Kyla
Liz Devine
I'm building
I can feel it,
even as I sit in my chair,
and realize that for once,
my feet touch the ground
and they are firmly planted,
beneath me
and all that I carry

I'm growing,
up and up,
inward and out
My chest is rising,
my spine is elongating
and I am coming into my own,
and all that I stand for

I'm getting bigger,
becoming,
seeing
and breathing
at a rapid rate,
from nowhere
My own power has hit me like a bus,
like a wave
and a current so strong,
that it has washed over all that I was,
and has left me with what I could be
No,
It is what I am

No longer,
will I wish for a beautiful day,
when I will be strong,
to run and fight at my own free will,
because to day is that day
No longer will I aspire,
or dream of what I can be,
because I already am,
becoming her,
in every inch by inch,
in every breath I take,
and every day that I'm alive

I have stopped,
dreaming and scheming,
of the woman I wish to be
I have opened my eyes
and I can see my own light,
I am big and beaming,
I am someone
I am, that I am
 Jan 2012 Kyla
Lucan
A maple leaf flares slow, so slow
Quick children never see, or know
The cruelest days are autumn's, so
They run, and fire, and fall, and throw
Their bodies down. But o, but o! --
The sweetest breaths are autumn's, though!
 Jan 2012 Kyla
Lucan
A gesture's worth a thousand words,
intimations of the body articulate:
my gas-passing interrogatives,
your inquisitive belches, remember?

At first, such unspoken jokes seemed crude,
though useful. So we refined them,
and from trees at night mock owl-calls homed you in.
Do you remember eyebrows, intelligent as lips?

In time, I developed tics, snarls, an expert shrug,
a professional groan. And I grew to resent
your sighs, your phony, irritated coughing fits,
the critical commentaries of your silences.
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