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I stay awake and I pray
For the mess I became
Urging gods to erase
The mistakes that I’ve made
Craving poisons everyday
To forget all my pains


I know im fighting
A war against these monsters….
A long lost battle
To the demons in this bottle
One that only I will mourn
In this building hollow
Where my sorrows follow

In silence I lay
These tears I’m fearing
So I pray to forget
The regrets that I’m feeling
The poison I crave it keeps on creeping
So I cave and I pray
Yet this pain it remains

I know im fighting
A war against these monsters….
A long lost battle
To the demons in this bottle
One that only I will mourn
In this building hollow
Where my sorrows follow
 Sep 2014 Luca Molnar
Kate Lion
Don't try to hold my hand (because I'm a jellyfish)
Love is like lightning,
Beautiful from a distance,
But just wait till you're struck by it
Don't try to hold my hand (because I'm a jellyfish)
 Sep 2014 Luca Molnar
Helen
did you know?
That at 15 years old I was *****
in the back of a car?
I was not alone, next to us
lay another couple, limbs entwined
like mine, but no tears were found

did you know?
For the next 5 years I had ***
with any boy that said to me
I love you because, *** is love...
right?

did you know?
I only really fell in love once
in a life where love is rife
I fell in love with a boy so completely
wrong for me
but made me feel.... nice?

did you know?
that boy gave me back my voice
helped me scream into the void
and sat and held my hand
as the screams echoed back
inside my head and made me
understand, how I had a choice

did you know?
that boy became my universe
my sun, my moon, my dark, my light
who gifted me little star babies
that feature in my dreams at night

did you know?
The boy became a man
became a agitated, muted clam
after careening head first into flight
remembering that he had others
in his life, he needed to fight.

did  you know?
that 26 years later
that boy, who became a man
and saved me from being a hater
lies next to me in a sleep
that escapes him most of the time
He slumbers as I massage his scalp
whispering how I was grateful
for his help at such a crucial time
how I was happy to find
someone that didn't just want
to take advantage of me

did you know?
He's mine
 Jan 2014 Luca Molnar
Aarya
If I could,
I would pick up my ink pen
and drown an ocean into you
instead of drowning you in it.
Extract these rotting feelings
for the sake of your ignorance.
Carve scriptures into each delicacy of your brain
so you wouldn’t have to dwell in such misery every day.
Wire faith
to your blemished heart.  
Imbue purity
to your sullied soul.
If I could,
I would write you through all depths of insanity
without any harm
so that your
mind no longer persists the thought of death.
There was a time I thought you were dead.
Only you were painted red
in a black and white world.
Like you have been walking barefoot on a broken road
your whole life.
Your demons imitate life
And life imitates the demons.
You are the one being tied down by invisible, nonexistent chains.
So unaccepting of help that has come for you
Watch  
the sun touch the horizon
reach the meeting of sun and ground
and
Find further still,
The limits you would like to reach only run from you.
You have such a murderous tongue
for society  
people.
But one day I hope to see you write yourself into existence
Rather than to let yourself drown in it.
Why has you dying become something so habitual?
Darling, death is not a friend of yours
Nor are you a friend of his.
But I know of your frequent dates with death
Tell me
Does his neck feel like happiness
And do his lips relieve you of your suffocation
Now
are you lost?
or are you found?
Do you recognize the irony  
Of the most terrifying things happening in the most angelic places
Charm yourself upon that bridge
Whose lights light up the city in golden arrays
With a glazed look
you’d think.
In sadness seen go by
You are charmed by either war or hope.
These occurred robberies have taken much
But they left opportunity
Important people
And a moon in your window
A future that only you know the ending of  
And a slice of the midnight sky.
So it goes.
 Apr 2013 Luca Molnar
Sawyer
There is no such thing as
"Strong women."
There are only women who hide
And women who hide better.
Women who shelter their fears
In the attics of their minds,
And women who carry them
In their back pockets;
Women who hum little songs to themselves
While wolves wait at their feet,
And women who dance with the beasts.
Women who cry quietly
In bed next to your
Snoring mass,
And women who turn their heartbreak
Into art and music and poems
That rip at the hearts
Of those who hurt her.

The woman you knew---
The woman you loved
Once upon a time---
Hides better.
Her screaming nightmares
About the man that ruined her---
His hands revisiting her innocence;
Night after night,
Waking to underwear
Stained from the dirt on his hands---
Are transformed into drive.
Drive to create, to love,
To touch, to live.
This woman you knew
Hides better.

But strength ebbs,
Like the tide,
The sadness sweeps into the mind
With the rising moon.
But the strong woman,
She doesn't break;
Not until she is tucked away
Into her empty hope chest
Next to the dusty photos
Of lost friends and lovers
And the strings of pearls
Formed from silver tears
Of mothers and grandmothers.
Only then is she weak.
Only then does she allow
The darkness to enclose her,
Like a blanket of familiar discomfort.

What one must realize is that
Passion is not a constant.
Every woman you have ever admired,
Every woman you looked up to,
Every woman you worked beside,
Every woman you passed by,
Falls apart in private.
The body must have a rest from strength,
Let vulnerability prevail.
True story.
Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.
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