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 Aug 2012 Kyla
K Balachandran
He packs his bags and leaves,
                    she stands stupefied, like  a doll,
they have crossed the threshold,
                 **but love is  still a glint in their eyes!
 May 2012 Kyla
Samuel
exposed and melodic
what comes from half smiles

polite wishing

you're on your way and
I'm getting to mine

I don't know what day it is
where a mind finds these
long numb torrents

you can hold my heart and feel its rain
 May 2012 Kyla
JL
I grab words from you

They are precious to me

I want to keep them folded

Safe in my pocket.

*But
I hang on to the end of your sentences
Like a starved man holds a crust of bread

I know that you are too beautiful for me to hold
Too precious and rare to belong to me
I am the humble farm boy
You the long haired princess

...the boy who hides in the garden
Just to hear you sing

I don't deserve you
Long legged  and delicate

(Keeping a butterfly in a jar
With a single stick to rest on
The hardest thing for the scientist to do
Is unscrew the cap
And let her float away)
 May 2012 Kyla
Amanda Small
Tonight, let’s take God hostage
throw Him in the backseat
have Him show us around town

We're "those kids"
spending our afternoons learning how to do handstands on nail beds
The ones that foresee failure and live in the moment
Sit on street corners and barter for advice

Let's treat this world as an etch-a-sketch
For we are nothing more than flecks of aluminum looking for a physical reaction

More like soul mates than friends
If you fused us all together you might have one functioning addition to society

Making wishes at 11:11

Looking for beauty in air,
We breathe out to give inspiration to sonnets

Dreaming of switchblades and palm trees, we sit next to the fire
Our feet shoved in embers, burning off the memories of passing Decembers

We pass a flask of whiskey and daydreams
Keeping our mouths sealed tight around the top
 May 2012 Kyla
Amanda Small
bye.
 May 2012 Kyla
Amanda Small
bet you i'll be bitter.
bet you i'll be better,
maybe even sit down and write you a letter.

sing all the symphonies of my dreams.

and wouldn’t it be beautiful,
if we could be lovely?

if we could morph these disillusioned thoughts
into proper actions.
 May 2012 Kyla
Amanda Small
and maybe you don't want me here.
and maybe I don't want you to want me here
and maybe I want you to want me so much that your heart hiccups

and maybe I drink to summon the courage to say it
and maybe I drink to find it

and maybe I loved you
and maybe I still do

and maybe I don't want you to see me broken
and maybe I want you to feel the shattered glass of my fingertips

and maybe we're doomed
and maybe we're destined

and maybe last night was different
and maybe we'll never change

and maybe we love like cancer

and maybe we walk like Egyptians

and maybe we just need time
and maybe we've had enough for tonight

and maybe we make bonfires on bunk beds

and maybe you turned your back to me
and maybe I left

and maybe you love the hawk with brown tipped wings

and maybe common sense isn't so common

and maybe we're newcomers
and maybe we never got there

and maybe those weren't tears, but stray raindrops

and maybe all my words are lyrical
and maybe my pen is tapping out my heartbeat

and maybe I watch you watch me

and maybe we jive like honey bees
and maybe I dream of daffodils and popcorn

and maybe we've lost faith in God and gravity and poetry

and maybe I ride my bike down the narrow streets downtown
and maybe I sunbathe on park benches
and maybe I fell from my tree house

and maybe I flew
and maybe our hands don't fit quite right
and maybe I tried to recreate snowflakes

and maybe I dance to the songs you hate
and maybe you know every word from my favorite poem

and maybe I cry when I think too much
and maybe I smile at every hair on your body

and maybe I loved you
then again, maybe not.
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