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 Dec 2013 Lindsey
Haley K Collins
The owl at the glass
Perching
Says "who."

Time and time again
I tell him
It's you.
 Dec 2013 Lindsey
Kaitlin Jean
I’m confused, a little annoyed and anxious.
I’m probably just overreacting and paranoid as well.
I’m lonely and I want to cry.
Frustrated and I don’t exactly know why.
All I ask for is your attention, a “how was your day?”
A compliment every now and then.
A “good night” or an “I love you” first.
I suppose I should be writing this to you, and not my journal, but when it comes to confrontation, I’m the worst.
I know you think we’re okay, you can’t read my mind.
So I’ll just sit here and pretend I’m fine.
When it's bad
it's really bad.
I Sometimes wish
that I were out to sea,
the rocking of the ship
to comfort me.

The days they crawl by
with me waiting on night fall.

I sit in the relative quiet
of the kitchen and listen...
soft rain on the window,
the sump pump
in the basement
beating out a
chugging rhythm.

The clock, not digital,
becomes a metronome
ticking and tocking,
just hanging there
on the wall.

The pills I was taking,
they no longer work.
I drink absolutely no coffee
after my morning's cups
fearing the caffeine
will stay in my system
when it is once again
time to shut my lids
to try and drift away.

When what little sleep
I am granted is interrupted
by my mind saying;
am I sleeping,
am I dreaming?
Then I become conscious again
and I fight back tears
that slide down my temples
pooling in my ears.

Morning comes
and I pray that I
get through the day
without ripping someone
a new one.
Another day on edge, edgy,
distant in a strange but familiar way.

My face wearing my angst,
my back, hunched.
My eyes darting to the left,
to the right, up then down.

I feel so ****** tired
and I fear what will come
in the remains of the day.

Learning to live with things
as they are is taking more time
than I ever thought I had.
 Dec 2013 Lindsey
Abby
It's time to give up
when you try to collapse from exhaustion onto the couch
and stub your toe on the coffee table in the process.
 Dec 2013 Lindsey
brooke
let me
take my
hair down
for you.
(c) Brooke Otto 2013
 Dec 2013 Lindsey
Ralph Albors
I write for me.
I write for her.
I write for my friends.
I write for my family.
I write for strangers.
But most importantly,
I write for everyone,
That feels the same way
But doesn't have the words
To express those feelings.
Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.
 Dec 2013 Lindsey
Tommy
Night-Walker
 Dec 2013 Lindsey
Tommy
'Tis but another day I have not slept,
As I traipse aimlessly through these baron halls,
The shadows enveloping me, luring me further and further.

I remember in the days of the living,
When the moonlight was my friend,
And in her rays of light she would cradle me,
As she sent a sweet lullaby through the night sky,
Sung softly by the light of the stars.

It took me three years to remember how;
How to close my eyes and let the dark carry me away,
Lifting me up on a cloud of dreams
As I breathed in and out, in and out.

For those three years I wandered,
Writhing in the breath-taking agony
I would not have thought those like us were capable of feeling
Enduring as I wished and prayed
I could once more
Feel the dark close around myself and carry me off
On an adventure I wouldn't remember.

But when I finally managed it,
The wisps of the shadows did not encircle me,
Lifting me lightly in my slumber,
But they wrapped themselves around and around,
Suffocating and trapping me,

And the light of the moon did not reach out,
As she watched on from above
And the stars screamed and howled,
Possessed by an evil I had never seen before.

When I finally awoke,
I was lost, confused, and dazed by the piercing light
From the endless source.
And so, I will never again know
The warm grasp of the moon's rays as I am carried away;
The soft singing voice of the stars that I no longer see above my head.
I will never again know
What it is to dream
Other than the nightmare I am currently trapped within.
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