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 Dec 2014 Paige
Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.
 Nov 2014 Paige
Dean Eastmond
 Nov 2014 Paige
Dean Eastmond
My insides are empty train stations
Where our kisses go to die.
I have spent months rhyming
Your name with bandages
And bullet torn nightmares,
Still smiling, still growing,
Left still and surrendered
I am the rain that could not fall,
The night that did not turn to day,
The infection, the terminal,
All change, all change,
all change.
 Nov 2014 Paige
Anna Smith
 Nov 2014 Paige
Anna Smith
a cigarette burn
thats what you are
always leaves a scar
your **** marlboro lights
leaving a permanent mark on me
in more ways than one
you said my love was a mistake
all i could say was
baby its a mistake i want to make
the kind of love we had wasn’t love at all
when you tell someone you need them
i guess thats when they leave
you have me thinking
you were right after all
that dosnt help me forget
memories like these shouldn’t feel like a burn
sweet things tarnished
from the hate i should feel for you
i just wish you hadn’t
whispered love songs in my ear
like you were really the one
that wrote the words
i remember your smile
the feeling of your lips on my neck
and even worse
how you said i love you
i didn’t know whiskey
made people say things quite like that
 Nov 2014 Paige
Madisen Kuhn
2:20 AM
 Nov 2014 Paige
Madisen Kuhn
The words I can’t say to you are
climbing up my throat
I keep forgetting to breathe
I miss your hands.
 Nov 2014 Paige
Madisen Kuhn
i don’t want to be someone who writes in pencil
and eats too slowly and walks with eyes that
are glued to the sidewalk and tops of strangers’ feet
i’ve been underwater for so long that
i’ve forgotten lungs are meant
to be filled with air; exhaling seems
more like something found
on the second star to the right, rather
than a process that is meant to be
done twenty-three thousand times a day

i feel like an old woman who
looks in the mirror and all she can see
are wrinkles and white hair and tired eyes and
the absence of who she used to be

but i am not someone who turns away
from sunsets and pretends
that darkness is all i’ve ever known;
someone who thinks
the sun will never rise again

because the sun will rise again—
the words hiding inside of me will
find their way out, because
i cannot hold my breath forever

i am not someone who writes in pencil
and erases the bits that are too
honest and too imperfect and too real
to claim as thoughts of my own

i cannot keep my lips pursed and
hands tied behind my back,
i cannot keep pretending i am
a shadow of who i used to be

my tomorrows hold suns much
brighter than ones that have risen
over horizons of my past;
i have not reached the summit yet

there is so much more me
for me to become

each day, i am new.

— The End —