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 Mar 2015 Sam Luna
Dorothy Parker
And let her loves, when she is dead,
  Write this above her bones:
"No more she lives to give us bread
  Who asked her only stones."
 Mar 2015 Sam Luna
Christopher KD
The feeling is lead.
Stubborn,
It sits in my chest.
I remind myself
Not to dare name it.
I remind myself:
If you name it,
It becomes real.
Suddenly, people will see it.
Label you for it.
It will define you.

I ignore it
When I can.
Suppressing him
As best as possible.
Still, he manages to
Shrink me.
******* me.

He strains my knees.
Curves my back.
Hangs below my eyes.
I plead with him.
Beg him.
Try to compromise.
But this thing is
Deaf,
Dumb,
Simple—
He is oblivious.

He lacks understanding.
Incessantly, he fails
To recognize
My pain;
Perpetual discomfort.
Unaware, he forces me;
Knees ******,
Crawling to my vices.

Frequently
I drown him.
Hold his head low.
Well at the bottom of the
***** reservoir
That accumulates
Each night in my gut—
I drink one
After the next.
My hand never
Leaves the glass;
If I can help it,
The glass never
Leave my lips.
Until finally my world—
Our world
Falls below the, thick, black,
***** soaked veil.


Often
I choke him;
With thick, grey,
Clouds of smoke.
The clouds burn
Deep in my lungs
Lifting the burden
From my chest,
Back, knees.
For a minute
My mind isn’t
So crowded.
For the moment
I feel relief.

Some nights
I numb myself
With casual company.
Women,
Who like I,
Are acquainted with he.
For a moment
We might distract
One another—
In that moment
There’s sometimes bliss
Temporary,
Fleeting,
Transient—


But undoubtedly,
Bliss…
 Mar 2015 Sam Luna
Christopher KD
Perhaps it was my own fault;
Letting her ever get that close.
Inviting her underneath my skin
Where she'd gnaw at my bones.
The dichotomy, while blatant,
Fell to eyes under strain.
Her beauty was blinding.
My world suddenly dimmed.
Her voice, ever charming,
All other sound fell to mute.
My old heart, her new hobby;
Another puppet, abused.
Douse your half of the fire,
Yet mine still rages on.
Though I’m new to the subject,
I'll call what we had ‘love’.
But if ever again I feel heartbreak:

Dear God,
**** me young
 Mar 2015 Sam Luna
Devon Webb
Maps
 Mar 2015 Sam Luna
Devon Webb
He traced maps
on my back
with the tips
of his fingers
as if I was
the whole world
 Mar 2015 Sam Luna
Molly
You were in my dream last night and I think we were in love and my head didn't hurt anymore and suddenly I remembered how it felt for my chest cavity to be full of something other than steam and I swear to God it was real, I could feel your heartbeat while you slept but still I woke into a dark room and let the world slowly come back to me and I don't know how but that illusion felt more real than my life has for a while now and I started grasping for someone on the couch next to me only to find I was alone, and I keep waiting for someone to tell me to calm down, that this is all a bad dream, I keep hoping I'll wake up and this will all seem foggy and distant because last night couldn't have been in my head, I could feel your heartbeat while you slept.
oh jesus you **** with my head
There I was again tonight
Hoping for a chance
Wearing a gown with a touch of pink
Walking in front of you
And yet you don't even gave me a glance

Then your best friend asked for a dance
While dancing, he noticed that I am looking at you
He said that you would dance me later
I don't want to believe
But an undesirable hope ignited

I am back on my sit
Time check, eleven o'clock
I looked up at the stars
Silently praying for my last dance
When you are coming near me
Unfortunately, you asked my friend not me

Time is running,
It's already twelve midnight
Just like Cinderella,
I need to go home
You were not my first and last but my *never dance
 Feb 2015 Sam Luna
epictails
The moon illuminated her
as she flowed with the rhythm
of the shadows

She cascaded her body
with a passion
she only knew too well

Her desolation slowly adrift
with each flying second
all consumed in a beautiful madness

No one would glimpse of
the illusion she brought to life

No one would hear
of the music she sought

No one would believe
a woman free in her own course

A woman dispossessed
by the eyes of an audience

A woman left to her dreams
as if she was insignificant

But she danced
despite the crowd telling her to stop

But she danced
despite being burned and bruised
for the fantasies she loved
before anything else in the world
Title inspired by Haruki Murakami's book of the same name. Although I haven't read it even once. Hahaha no idea if my poem is even remotely similar to the book all I know is that the namesake is catchy. :))
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