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 Apr 2013 Maggie
Tanika Lee
I am a poet
Hear me roar.
Hear my mind run
and race in madness.
Hear my soul burn
and crackle.
Hear my tears drop
into your hand.
Hear my pen scrape
away old ideas caked
onto your mind.
Hear my laughter spring forth into
your
bright future.
I am a poet.
 Apr 2013 Maggie
Mikaila
We exist in a world filled with people who beg every day for love.
For connection. For tenderness. For attention.
And yet, try giving it to them.
Try being someone else's design, the one who will give everything to them.
They are like children who wish to eat an entire chocolate cake and regret it halfway through.
They make themselves sick on love.
And we, the ones who have been made to fit the idealistic wish, find that we have been very cruelly misled.
We have been created for a world which does not exist,
And for people who are only capable of receiving the affection we offer
In their dreams.
There are two types of people in the world:
Those who wish for love, and those who are the wish for love.
And neither is ever satisfied,
Because both believe the other is designed for them,
When in reality, they are simply alone.
The lonely ones find the people who will make them lonelier.
The clingy ones find the people who will surely reject them.
The lovers find the people who will abuse their affections.
The dreamers of true love find the people whom they wish could fulfill their wishes,
Not the people who can.
And the people who can find the people who cannot appreciate a dream come true.

We are tragedies, my darlings.
We reject ourselves and one another.
I am aiming to be better, to give what I can. But most of the time?
I just feel like a freak, with my emotions.
Even when they are not directed at you, you feel their threat looming and shy away.
The real reason I am so very easy going?
It is a disguise. An apology to the world for loving it too much.
Not even that- for being ABLE to.
It is restraint based on respect.
Even when I put up the walls of "it's all okay" and "leave if you want",
Somehow they all feel the pressure of the something that is wrong with me.
What is it?
Why do the books all worship love like mine, but the people all fear it?
I watch these people grovel and plead for love,
Love that I can give,
And I sit and hold my tongue, because I know by now.
After all this time,
I finally know that they do not want what they ask for.

They just want to ask for it.
 Apr 2013 Maggie
Alexis Martin
Dad hasn't been the same
since he found out about
                me
His eyes hold a deep sorrow
and the whiskey rarely sees
the cupboard anymore
permanently placed on
his nightstand where
my picture used to be
-
*He blames himself, you know
 Apr 2013 Maggie
PJ
Because if life were to
Give me lemons,
I would
Stand outside your house
Everyday
In any weather, with a
Tall glass of
Lemonade
And an apology,
Until you took at least
One sip of
Forgiveness
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