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 Feb 2014 Makala
Michael Pick
Now you make me feel like talking things out is pointless, and
You proceed to rip away any emotion that I might have
Maybe you like to think that it's meant to be for you, but
I simply can't stand the way you take and give nothing back
And that couldn't be the worst of it
Now, you see, you aren't even here to begin with
You're taking myself away from inside of my head
Your verbal abuse is causing a special type of sickness
And it's probably cliche, but by now I'm so sick of it
But that's still only a fraction of it
Because on top of your voice I hear the others
Not always inside my head, but mostly just in general
The jostling and racket of daily life can keep me rattled
Those same voices push in on me, until I can no longer breathe
Even then, when I manage to breathe
It's only so that I can justify my erratic thoughts and motions
I'm so sorry that I cry and that I run away from situations
And when I say nothing, I'm screaming quietly out of politeness
All in all, I'm holding in my condition so I'm not treated different
Because these days, stigmas breed
And usually, it's out of misinformation or lack of it in general
This lack of awareness by loved ones always seems to upset me
Because I'm taking myself away from inside of my head
And most of you will never know what anxiety really is
Oh my god. I'm so proud of myself for this one.
 Feb 2014 Makala
Asphyxiophilia
For me, love has always been like sleepwalking. I never remember how I get there but there are always footprints behind me in the snow that appear to be the same size as my own. Somehow I ended up there again, with my face turned upward and the wind kissing it. Whoever compared love to warmth was lying. It is cold. It is the inch between solid ground and frozen lake that you can't see. It is the fog that clings to the tops of trees and softly whispers your name. It is the frost on your window that reminds you how easily things can break. The worst part of falling in love is falling out of love. The worst part of sleepwalking is waking up.
You woke up.
And that's when I look into
Your heart filled with despair
That I can't quite grasp the words
Coming from your mouth
Telling me you love me,
But the truth is you hate me
And I can tell when you **** me
How you leave bruises and bite marks on my body
But I'm sadistic that way,
I'm addicted to this pain you cause me
That I can't even breathe when I look at you
And the thing that kills me the most is I still love you,
I can tell when I taste your lips sweet as wine
And when my hands shake as I reach for your buckle
I can feel it in my body when you finish
And I know you feel it too,
But there is no way to mend
These cuts and bruises of our souls
But I will still pray for you
 Jan 2014 Makala
JordanP
Love looks so good on you, it gives you a glow I had never seen before. A spark in your eye that looks as if it is able to ignite a flame that could burn down the entire forest we used to walk through together. Now I kind of wish it would so I could sit back and watch then dance upon the ashes the way we used to dance whenever we heard a slow song. I fell for your smile and was willing to break my back just to feel it against my lips, but now all I see is it pressed to his and all the sudden the only thing breaking is my heart. The pieces lay scattered around me as I sit in the same spot I used to lay reading the notes we would trade back and forth. Surrounded by the words you wrote upon the old folded up papers from the day we met to the day you left. Now all that are left of those words are the ashes from the flame we once had. The knives you covered with venom before slashing me with are now the very same knives I have to resist using upon myself day after day. Our song playing on the radio used to make me fly higher the clouds we would watch laying upon the hill together. Today the lyrics are more like an alarm clock ringing right in the best part of my favorite dream, no matter how hard I try I can't ignore it and it automatically crushes my mood. I hate to admit it but looking back I suppose my friends were right, you were never good for me, you were the poison when I thought you were my antidote. You still course through my veins though, maybe that's why no matter how hard I try and no matter how far I run you stick right there in the back of my mind slowly driving me closer to the edge of insanity. The line between the truth and an absolute lie is so thin with you that I don't know if you ever actually cared or if I was just your pawn in the game of chess you continually played to get him back. No hard feelings though right, we both walked away with something from the hell we called us, you got him and I got the knowledge that I should never trust another person as completely as I trusted you. They say the best things in life are free and maybe it should've been a sign when no matter where we were or what we were doing you wanted money for something. I wish nothing but the best for you even after all this time and energy you stole from me. Whether you ever actually cared about me or not, its no secret that I truly did love you. Hell somewhere in the scorched remains of what you left of my heart I probably still do. Love never dies even when it makes you wish you could. One day I'll love again and when I do no matter how badly I wish I could say I hope she'll remind me nothing of you I can't because not everything about you was bad. The way you showed a passion for what you cared about, the fire I felt from your soul and the way you gave your all to others even when they didn't deserve it. It inspired me, made me want to become a better person and change the way I was living. Ironically you may have saved me, pulled me out of the way of the bullet, just to take the gun and bash me over the head with it. I guess what I'm saying is I never want to see you hurt the way you made me hurt, but I also never want you to come back around because if you do I don't know if I could resist the fire in your eyes, kiss and touch, and I've been burnt by you enough.
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