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You live in my head
Not under my bed

All of the things I didn't do
Manifests into you

Look into my hollow eyes
You will see a ghostly surprise

All and all
After fall
I should not feel a thing
At all
 Oct 2014 Olivia McCann
matt
concentration camp of my emotions
every statement i make gives the feeling of fake. its been less then a day and already i want to say, **** this is tough I’ve almost had enough. i have to lock down my thoughts like there are spotlights searching for any escaping expressions. I’ve put limitations on my own emotions all I’m allowed to show is pity for my self, hell id rather off my self. the situation isn’t a cold war the glass cover over the launch button is shut, crisis averted we can all go back to being automatons emotionless, cold like stone statues buried under the field. i can’t even share what is going on in my head without a censor bar blocking because i feel like its too shocking and it would be mocking the proposal i composed. I’m allowing myself to believe in a false sense breathing in false cents. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable to talk to someone who, when we walk made me feel….. well a lot. this situation is unbearable but i don’t know how to coupe without my fix. my mom said i need new kicks because theres holes in it but my heart is fit for a good stitch but nobody has a sewing kit. why do i continue to push when the door says pull i guess I’m just not on the ball when i fall. i don’t check the ground first. i didn’t look to see if there were matts to brace my impact, no i just fell and said “oh well” i sprained my leg but broke my heart. I’m in a camp where my emotion is lined against a wall and publicly shot on the spot, red lead hits the spot as emotions drop motionless its pure hopelessness and ******* do i miss it already. the word freedom has no meaning, theres no formal greeting in prison just keep your head down and hope for the best walking in a crowd wearing similar striped attire all tiered looking somehow wired to string strung and hung down from the set. the puppet masters pet. i don’t know where this all will go but i know……….. i don’t know but I’ve lost hope years ago.
 Oct 2014 Olivia McCann
MereCat
They were broken children
Their scissored minds ran them
In spirals
Until they sat with crossed legs
And crossed lips
To press themselves flatter
They were cut-strings marionettes
Who danced
In an attempt to wring calories
From their balsa-wood bones
Which refused to give
And who pinned their painted smiles
A little tighter each morning
They were snapped-spines picture books
Who’d been warped too far by society
And had had their pages torn from the crease
So that words hung like razor blades
And spliced from each vertebrae

They took them to the circus
Where they were the **** of every joke
But when the clowns speared them with dripping eyes
And artificial mouths that were stretched over grimaces
Like the dust-jackets from different stories
They stared back glassily
Because how can you be afraid
Of the broken clockwork of your reflection?
 Oct 2014 Olivia McCann
gothicc
It makes me sad that I can't tell
about all the things that have happened
since we last spoke.

Like: "I've started to smoke."
And you'd tell me to "be careful,"
even though it's ***, not cigarettes.

I finally have a job that wasn't easy to get.
It's that barbecue place I told you about-
the one that hired me in the summer

when we were still together.
I wish you read the poems I wrote you,
and at the same time I'm glad you didn't,

because in them are a lot of things I only admitted
with word and on paper.
Like: "I loved you...

and still do."
I'm not sure if you broke my heart
or just hardened it against everyone frozen.

I was thinking about you most when...
I was going to try to think of something,
but never mind,

because I realized I think about you all the time.
You were my heaven on earth, but thanks to God,
without you, the world's hell.
the last word in the third line of each stanza rhymes with the last word in the first line of the next. the last word in the first line of the first stanza rhymes with the last word of the last stanza.
You're so bad at hiding feelings.
But this you hide from me.
You stopped wearing your heart
On your sleeves for me to read.
Now I have to ask.

Maybe you're not hiding
And I'm the one in love.
I promised I wouldn't fall for you
And crash into your timid heart
With nothing to break my fall.

I'd feel your heartbeat
Shaking me like an earthquake
And I wouldn't know
If you're infatuated Or afraid.
We both don't understand you.

But all I know for sure is this
That It has nothing to do with me
Because I fell in love with a sad girl.
For all the time I've know you
You've worn a mask upon your face
It appeared beautiful, perfect, and friendly
But now I realize that wasn't the case

For hiding underneath that mask
Was a soldier bent on destruction
Posing as a comrade fighting for good
But following the other side's instruction

You wormed your way into our ranks
And we accepted you as one of our own
But all of us were unaware
Your true intentions had not yet been shown

When an opportunity presented itself
You struck without any hesitation
Our troops started dropping left and right
Without any sign of infiltration

You knew you only had so long though
Before your actions got you caught
So you moved to abolish your final target
A tougher task than you had thought

That night, when you attacked me
You allowed your mask to fall
And as you fled, I caught a glance
Of the real person beneath it all

Well, "What doesn't **** you makes you stronger"
And you make me tougher every day
Which is why no matter what you do
I refuse to let you stand in my way

I learned some valuable lessons
About how you fight this war
And now those same old boring tactics
Won't work here any more

So thank you for the knife
That you embedded in my back
For you just gave me the tool I need
To defend against any future attack.
Addicted to the rush of the bubbles across my lips
Not so much a physical fetish but just a psychological condition
Of being dependent on a liquid that fizzes
Like the feeling of running down the aisles of empty seats
Feeling like a god, gliding on air to jump onto an unpeopled stage
With an unfocused spotlight
My vision is blurry and my head is spinning and
I'm falling in circles and it's wonderful
Bubbles coming up my throat
And it reminds me of thinking of you
The aches in the back of my calves
Running my fingers down the cold skin with nothing to warm me
But a feeling of warmth radiating out from my core
I'm in love with being tall and proud
In an empty room
With a styrofoam cup freshly drained
And nothing but love on the brain
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