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 Oct 2014 OVC
The Good Pussy
Hot Tip
 Oct 2014 OVC
The Good Pussy
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 Sep 2014 OVC
Diane
Contained
 Sep 2014 OVC
Diane
In the transition between water and ice
I spoke my words inside an air pocket
and let it freeze over
 Sep 2014 OVC
Diane
Mangled
 Sep 2014 OVC
Diane
my voice has no freedom
thoughts rammed down
a lion's throat, my
roars rattle like a spoon
in the garbage disposal
 Sep 2014 OVC
Diane
Number 642
 Sep 2014 OVC
Diane
not every poem is about beauty
too caught we are in the moment to write about it
that is what makes it beautiful
pain clings long beyond instants
prolongs and window reflections
engulfing our bones
masticating our stomachs
from slow drip bile coffeemakers in our chest
the line from that one song starts the burning
and the eyes of a stranger flavored with reminders
i wish i could tell him i finally got to ____
my blood is chunked with tomato slices
acidic clots and stagnant passions
float me in melancholy perplexities
a minute of oddity where emotions
are unidentifiable
 Sep 2014 OVC
fleuroses
Look and you will see the tragedy that is bestowed upon us,
Children of the universe.
It eats away at our hearts like acid
Yet we grin and we grit our teeth.
Our spirits are roaring with the ache of insecurity.
We are the children of the universe.
Our thoughts are a twisted garden of vines
And no trespassing is permitted.
Our minds are guarded mighty and high.
We rise every morning and put on a smile,
Ready to show the face that we have chosen for others to know.
Our exterior is cool and prepared.
We conceal the flowers that bloom from our minds
And pull them out as though they are weeds.
We sacrifice our identities to satisfy society.
Every word we speak is one that is cautiously selected.
Our insecurity has its hands on our throats
And is slowly suffocating us.
We are all dying under the weight of hiding our truths.
We are the children of the universe.
When will we say how we feel?
 Sep 2014 OVC
Kyle Horstmann
Life's like a little funny song,
Or rather a collection of them,
Some with refrains and some without.
Some with glorious chorus'
And some with a rigorous One verse .
The only thing all of these songs have in common is pain.

Pain is the sure constant, Not to be thought of as a plague or a curse
but rather a load to be carried throughout life.
Some have more, some have less
But all the some's have an amount.

Hurt is a different story.
Its a song of pain sung unwell.
Out of tune, out of key.
Not handled well, more straining than constructing.
No man has ever benefited from an ounce of hurt,
and that's the difference.

So I'm gonna tell you a secret.
take the hurt out of all the pain. how you ask?
Whistle a tune, say a hymn or sing a prayer!
Go for a walk in the Mountains, or the valleys.
See beyond yourself,
See where your actually going with this load of pain, and straighten up and keep walking.
You wear that pain proud throughout your life.
Heavenly Father knew you could carry that load, and live.
For God giveth no amount of suffering that we can't handle.

Just don't give up.

*Take the hurt out of all the pain
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