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 Jul 2014 Olivia
RILEY
My Facebook page is a cluster of
Saturday nights drinking-
And Gaza.
The fusion of blood and alcohol
Created a fierce dichotomy
That shouldn’t exist;
My bed is a crimson clover field,
With big dreams
Attached to every leaf,
Hidden in pockets of brand new shirts
That I bought
Just to grab your attention.
My mind is doing jumping jacks
Over the thoughts
Of rebellion
And fighting for the dead youth
As opposed to-
Enjoying my own.
My head grew muscles,
As their feet
Grew tired-
Of running at night,
When the dark hinders their sight
Till they get confused between
Rocks-
And skulls;
But they run,
And dodge,
And jump,
And crack broken bones
As long as they are still alive.
In Gaza I die.
Every day,
Reading the reports ,
Calculating the number of deaths
Over the number of minutes spent
Surfing web pages
Jumping from one link to the other
Hoping that I would find
Something to hang on to;
In Gaza I die.
When I see mothers
Flustered and desperate,
Trying to cheer up their children
In a hopeless case;
And nothing would cheer a child up
Like a piece of cake,
But they have nothing left-
So they bake them a cake
Out of their broken limbs,
They gather the tears
They’ve cried on white cloth
To make them soup.
They chip a piece of their heart off
Every other night,
Because that heart will hurt
When they call their children
And they seize to answer,
Because that same heart will shatter
Like rockets in a Palestinian sky
When they prepare food for Five
But there would be no one left to eat.

In Gaza I die,
I was once four years old;
In Gaza I die,
I married your mother when I was 16,
I brought you and your sister
Before I was 25
In Gaza I die,
Yesterday he looked at me,
In the shelter,
I smiled
But not the smile that shows that I’m infatuated
But definitely interested!
In Gaza I die,
She is so into me
But
In Gaza
I wish i could just
Live.
 Jul 2014 Olivia
skaldspiller
I should really stop
Writing poetry at 1:43
and fantasizing about pouring alcohol in my coffee
And fantasizing about making love to you
and fantasizing.

I should really stop
Spending too long online
and going to sleep 2 hours before my family wakes
and going to sleep (just to wake up a few hours later)
and not sleeping

I should really stop
reading Cummings late
and pouring over Byron late
and pouring over Burns late
and late night poetry readings

I should really stop
listening to death cab sleepy
and listening to brand new sleepy
and listening to la dispute sleepy
And listening to perfect lyrics sleepy

I should really stop
dreaming about love
and dreaming about those who don't love me
And dreaming about those who might love me
And dreaming about you loving me

I should really stop
but I cant seem to stop
any of it
 Jul 2014 Olivia
spysgrandson
as dusk rolled into night,
we watched a gray storm pour off the mesas
you spoke of life, death and what lies in between  
I smelled the rain and watched the lightning dance off
every rock, revealing some sacred secret alchemy in their stony souls  
a molten mix from ancient seas which yet today  
makes a bargain with light brighter than our simple, dying sun  
when your words faded into a sleepy slur, I walked
through the torrents of rain, not shivering
from the dreary drenched burden of the flesh
nor from the earthly winds, but from the vision
of my paw prints disappearing
before they were even made
(Inspired by a fierce lightning storm I had the privilege of seeing/feeling Saturday, July 19th, 2014, in the great American southwest--the only thing I have written in weeks)
 Jul 2014 Olivia
Mariana Seabra
Because I was 4 when my first love broke my heart. My breath was never the same since my mother broke me into million pieces, and to this day she never apologized.
Because I was 6 when I knew what death was and watched the love of my life go to the other side. I watched her die in my arms, couldn't speak for months, could never be the same since she left this world.
Because I was 13 and when my girlfriend hold me in her arms and I could only think about the places I don't belong.
Because I was 14 and this girl said to me "You're the love of my life" hoping that I would say it back but I couldn't, wasn't that person anymore, couldn't bare any more lies inside me.
Because I was 14 and this girl said "I love you" but I couldn't say the words, felt like I should keep them for someone, someone that I wasn't even sure if exists.
Because I was 15 and I fell in love for the first time, finally learnt that love is not selfish, it doesn't take place or time, doesn't demand anything besides being fed everyday with kind words and beautiful smiles. Finally learnt why I always felt like my words were meant to someone else, finally understood that maybe I wasn't homesick, I was peoplesick.
Because I was 16 when I finally understood what Charles Bukowsky meant when he said "we are all trapped by a singular fate".
Because after all this time that name continues to softly humming in my head. But who's name is it? I still can't hear it. Because she's now gone too and I can't do nothing but miss her. But who is she anyway? Because she will never know how much I love her, because her voice makes me go numb, because her face still lingers after seeing so many others, because no one will unravel me like she did, because sometimes two humans can be a forest and love is a destruction fire. Still, I'll always welcome her home whenever she comes knocking at my door.  If she ever does.
(But who is she?...)
Because I was 16 and I started dating another girl but late at night I always knew that I shouldn't. It's not ok to use people to fill your holes. I found that too early but still it was too late to stop, couldn't hurt anyone anymore, that's what I thought. I was always aware, I always knew that people date people they don't love to forget those they love because once you experience love you feel afraid. Love is a powerful thing and most of us run the opposite way because we can't handle being loved.
We are only scared little humans, screaming to the world "come, love me, please" but we end up kissing the wrong person goodnight, we end up sleeping with an emptiness in our chest, we end up living guilty for the rest of our lives. Why are humans so afraid of love? Why do they accept things just for comfort?
Because I was 16 and I said "It's over", and those words still feel like an echo that runs through my head.
Because I was 16 and I was seeing the girl I actually loved kissing another person. It still feels like a knife that I can never take back. It still haunts me everytime I lay awake.
Because I am 17 and I blocked all my feelings. I blocked everyone that I don't want to remind. I blocked everything that hurts. And now people ask "what happened to you?", I don't even know the answer anymore.
 Jul 2014 Olivia
emily grace
Bloom
 Jul 2014 Olivia
emily grace
I hope she makes the hollow parts of you whole
makes roses grow in the darkest parts of you
I hope the flowers blossom from every part of you
a beautiful display of blooms in the most
beautiful person I know

I hope she makes waking up
not so daunting
and falling asleep the worst fate you could meet
for she is the reason you keep your eyes open in the day

I hope
when her lips touch yours
you’re full of life once more
not the empty shell I ended up with
but the soul that yearned for adventure
and did not dread the daily woes of
monotony and repetition

I hope she touches the scars littering your body
feeling every single crevice of them
until they become her as well

I hope you make her bloom
from the darkest parts of her
like you always did for me
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