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If I can't unlove you
                Surely I can write myself
                                                  Out of love
4 pm
I always dreamed
Of dying in a special way.
People worried,
Mother guilty for what she did,
The awkward school assembly about a dead student.
Someone trying to stop me from ending it all.

Yet now i sit in my room,
Reading the texts from earlier,
The pretty lies, saying it's "just a break".
A break i won't come back from.
i told a few people that were somewhat close to me that i'll have to take a break due to my mental health getting really bad again. honestly, it's starting to look more like a goodbye, i'm sorry.
I’ve had enough of what you think of me
Your stain of past love and memories
Fair orange cuts and dark red melody
A cold embarace? You held so desperately.

-Melanie Munoz
the bugs crawl under my skin
as my mind fades into darkness
my heart stills, cold in my chest
stiff hands gripped by loved ones
blank glazed over eyes
rotting flesh falling off my bones
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

        Garish On-Your-Face In-Your-Face Makeup at Twenty Paces

There are several forms of government:

Monarchy
Kakistocracy
Oligarchy
Autocracy
Democracy
­Anarchy

But Mr. Trump and Mr. Musk have given us
A new form of government via online spat
We’re ruled by cheerleader moms who shriek and cuss
So what is the scholarly Greek word for that?
Hey, red-caps, don’t start all-capping “WE’RE A REPUBLIC”; there is no
pure democracy and no pure republic, and in common usage they are
synonymous. Don’t just chant stuff you hear on the InterGossip. Read
an ordinary high school textbook on government (maybe not an Oklahoma adoption, though).
To breathe but not explode,
A feeling a time bomb will never know.
Exposed without safety,
Of course I'm ******* crazy.
The panic is attacking,
A safe space I am lacking.
That's just her behavior,
Way too stubborn to accept a savior.
After the scene is said and done, there's no one left around- I'm the only one.
I write to be real
In life I'm just convenient
I’m new to ‘self-directed study,’ it’s a construction I’ve never known. It’s kind of a faustian bargain that resembles another self-paced activity—treading water. The program’s like an immersive plunge in deep, choppy, informational seas.

On the other hand, instead of dark, crowded auditorium classes, we’ve been studying, on sunny mornings, out by the pool, where there’s a summer-camp-like vibe.

When I say 'we', I mean Chella and I, we’re a two-girl study group. I’ve only known her for 13 days but we have a lot in recent-common. She was in my Yale graduation class (last month) but our paths never really crossed at Yale.

She’s a tall, lithesome, black girl from Miami Florida. Not the sandy beach Miami, where palm trees sway, bikini clad models strut and flamingo-pink art-deco bars face the ocean. No, she’s from the Liberty City ghetto—and she has stories.

She say’s that getting her Yale acceptance was a sea change. People were incredulous, as if aliens had landed or everyone in her high school had won the lottery, There’s a sad but steely resignation in her voice when she says she’s never going back there, "Evah."

So, it’s 86°f here in Boston, MA, and we’re out studying by the pool. There isn’t a cloud or bird in the sky and the sun looks—well, honestly, we’re not looking at the sun—we’re college graduates—we’re in the shade. I was afraid the pool would be summer-time crowded but we’ve been the only one’s here all week. We plunge into the pool and then read.

As Blue Coupe by Twin Peaks finished playing on my Bose Soundbar, Chella professed, “I literally LOVE that song.”
“I’ve loved that song since 8th grade,” I agreed.
“I don’t think my musical taste will ever be better than it was in 8th grade.” Chella confided.
“8th grade’s when everyone’s up on trends,” I said, thinking back.

We read for a while. The only thing tainting our near resort-core experience, is the flood of material we must cover.

“I want to be jolly,”  I declared to the universe,“I’m holding that today.”
“You keep yourself so grounded,” Chella said, “like you refuse to delight in anything!”
“That’s not true!” I gasped.
“Yes, it is!,“ she updogged, if anything goes wrong, you’re just done.”
“NOoo!” I laughed. “Ok, two things, if two things go wrong,” she amended.
“That’s fair.” I admitted, “I’m a two chance girl.”  
“That’s fair,” she agreed, then she added, “I’m going to switch the vibe up.”
‘SIREN by Shygirl’ began banging as we went back to our reading.
‘Self directed study’ has it’s advantages.
.
.
Songs for this:
Count Contessa by Azealia Banks & Lone
Blue Coupe by Twin Peaks
SIREN by Shygirl
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 06/05/25:
Sea change =  a big and sudden change or transformation.
Sometimes the memories
Need to roll down my cheek
Before I can let them go
So, so many bad ones that they are jumbling up. I want to just press "delete all" but this is the closest thing to that I guess (except for death but that rant is for another day)
I watched my father
take his last breath
Drugged , deprive of food and water
slipping away into death

Yet he resisted ,
he struggle to say .
But the drugs
prevented him
as they held him
in sway

The memorial crossed
my thoughts tonight
Then spread to the history
of my life by the light

From the earliest beginning when I was just
child
Death was stalking me
following me around all of the while

A neighbor from tornado
Crib death of a child
plane crash , polio
Mile after mile

Death became second nature
A fiend always that be
That shadow always standing there next to me

I used to joke and call him my friend
But I never saw him smile or attempt to grin

So as the wheels of life continue to spin
I'm left here standing next to him

I tell death I'm moving on beyond his grasp
Entering a new dimension
where he cannot pass

There are no emotions
in his vacuous eyes
And I wonder if he believes it's just more of those lies
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