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  Feb 2015 morning glory
Senate
she bared her soul for all to see. The hurt, the pain, the emptyness..it was all there. The scars she had, some gasped as they saw the, some acted shocked and others couldn't even find hide the disgust. "She is an attention seeker" they all said. She walked away, with no care whatsoever. The next morning they called for her, silence. Her mother's screams could be heard down the road. "Society killed me" she wrote, just before taking her own life, she knew it was coming, she knew and she was okay with it, she was always ready.
  Feb 2015 morning glory
Jo
Fly
i cannot fly
for i am lost,
in a world i do not know
and have yet to understand.
emotions are trapped deep in my throat,
caught in my chest,
intangible wisps of half-formed words,
bent and misshapen,
thrown together like mismatched furniture,
never with the intention of being articulated.
we are souls on the verge of being,
but not quite enough
to be.
walls hover above my head
closing in,
as stones crumble beneath my feet,
rocks tumbling,
disappearing
into a fissure of emptiness below.
in isolation
i fall,
surrending,
before the earth shatters
into millions of pieces
of other broken souls,
and we carry each other
as burdens on our backs
even though we are all damaged,
flightless.
the earth is 7 billion humans long,
the circumference composed of pain, suffering, healing;
souls piled on top of souls,
and we are caught,
caged into a life we didn't agree to live.
we did not sign a waiver in the last moments before our conception,
or in the delivery room,
or when our faces were first greeted by the sun as infants,
we never had a chance to cease to exist altogether.
my wings are clipped short,
and i do not know how to fly--
i'm thrashing against the sides of my cage,
my songs of joy becoming tears of sorrow,
of desperation and faltering hopes.
i'm bursting at the seams
that were hastily sewn by others,
people i hardly know.
they patch each incision with torn bandages,
that come undone with each breath i take,
only to be mended again.
we are fighting to save ourselves
whilst wrestling with the darkest creatures that only ever existed in our childhoods,
our youth being a fleeting memory,
scattered by the wind.
it has become a mindless struggle
as they pull you
downward,
binding your wrists behind your back,
as you stumble
helpless to catch even yourself,
let alone anyone else.
for how can you escape from the darkness
when you cannot fly?
and how can you fly,
when you do not even know where the sky is?

-j.m.
  Feb 2015 morning glory
Nothing Much
Close your eyes
Erase whoever is tattooed on the inside of your eyelids and find comfort in the darkness
It is yours
Inhale, exhale
Repeat this for the rest of your life

When the starry nights turn cold
Wrap your sheets around your feet
And curl into the comforter, finding solace in your solitude
It is okay if you cannot lift your listless body off of the bed
This also means you can not hurt yourself
Take a shower, wash the day off of your skin
Send your sorrows down the drain
Do not worry if you still feel unclean when you step out of the bathtub
This just means you need to scrub deeper

Inhale
Exhale
Pass the air through your lungs, let this be the part of you that never tears
Find beauty In your breath, sending little sailboats floating off into the night (clouds?)
Compress your chest if you must
Reach inside your ribs and take the balloons into your hands,
Be gentle
Remember that you were a child once,
That they still live inside of you

Inhale
Exhale
Repeat, repeat, repeat this like your favorite song
The one that you keep in your pocket like a lucky penny
Keep the music close to you, voices of strangers soothing you from your self- estrangement
Pianos will always hold your hands
Guitar strings will kiss your fingertips
Breathe, and exhale song

When it is dangerous to be alone
Surround yourself with the hum of other people's souls
Let them take care of you when you cannot take care of yourself
That is what they are here for
You would do the same

There will be some nights
When the pain in your chest makes you bend in half
Open a window
Soothe your lungs with the winter air
Dehumidify your eyes with the dryness of December
Dim the lights
Inhale, exhale
Repeat this for the rest of your life
This was written as a spoken word poem.
  Feb 2015 morning glory
Oli Nejad
Friends,
Think not of terror in the night
Of wayward wandering careless fright.
Think not of hatred in the morn,
Of owness lost and past left scorn.
Think not of guilts
Dead to the wind,
Think not of ills
You've beaten still.
Think not of the spectres of your mind,
Of days destroyed, of thought decline.
Think not of angels
Escort the dead.
Think not of challenges, haunt ahead.
Think not of blanket
Bleaching sorrow.
Think not of heartache soared tomorrow.
Think not of panic in the dark,
Of where your friends and foes reside,
Of what they say or what they mind,
Or whether they think you cruel or kind.
Think instead,
Of all you are.
Of where you've come from,
Crawled this far.
Think of your talents,
Of your shine,
Think of the world in terms of rhyme.
Think not of fear, of mindless dread, of panic ransacked
Quaking head.
Think all too clear of love itself.
Of simple life in raging health.
Never question what you are,
But freely count the fading scars.
Question malice, idle, stubborn, judging hearts,
Question tired cynics,
Mouthing barbs to better grow into themselves,
Question injustice, and condemn to swell
All those who'd dare
To make you shrink into a lesser, hardened shell.
Never wind your steps back over tread,
Already stepped.
Hold firm and fast
White knuckle raging burning grasp
Your fingers to the rail
And grimace menace
To all that failed


To break you.
  Feb 2015 morning glory
Jeuden Totanes
You gorgeous *******.
I like you.
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