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 Oct 2013 rachel
Deana Luna
i am trying to stay closer to the ground
clip the string that keeps my heart flying in the clouds
come back here, silly fool.
there are bags of rice attached to the soles of my feet
they've been weighing me down for quite some time
i am living both in the clouds and sinking into the earth.
i have found no balance.

to the core of my bones,
in their very marrow,
there is an ache that will not quit.
there is a longing for something more.
more more more than what i have
more always more
but more of what, i haven't a clue.

i need to learn to fall.
and then to get right back up.
instead i am lying here bruised and battered still fighting the battles that are long over
the soldiers have all gone home to their beautifulwivesbeautifulchildren

i am sitting here alone in this field
with tall grass that will soon blanket me and empty bullet shells.
and i will lie here. until the white winter comes and covers me as well
only to be found in the springtime by a pair of wandering lovers.
 Oct 2013 rachel
dafne
provision
 Oct 2013 rachel
dafne
4am
Cracks on my lips
Blood seeping out
sadness trying to escape
From the frostbite you provided

5am
Chills down my spine
Goosebumps sprouting on skin
Fears chilling within
From the memories you provided

6am
Lavender and jade green
Sinking beneath my eyes
Tiredness is the state in which I lay
From the exhaustion you provided

7am
I shuffle by
knowing you'll see me
But the fog blinds you
From what you've provided
 Oct 2013 rachel
Shang
"listen to me!" his mother said
"If I see one more tear, you'll never see her again!"

the five year old boy's cheeks
still flushed
his eyes swelling like
a pop-knot
they are ****** red
his chest will surely
explode from the tension
any moment now

he clenches the tube of
ointment in his front pocket
of the new pair of jeans
his grandma bought him
on the way back from
North Carolina

the young boy wipes his eyes,
rubs the bald spots on his head,
noticing his last eyelash has fallen on
the last tear running down his
face

his grandma holds him tight, she says:
"I love you. I'll be back soon."

he can feel his mother's
needle-worn arms pulling him away.
he can smell her morphine sweat.
he can taste her oxycontin breath.

despite watching his grandmother
close the door of her 1990
green Beretta and drive
off Walnut Street and
down Oakford Ave--
the little boy
never cried
again.
(C) Shang
 Oct 2013 rachel
xxxx
She's gone
 Oct 2013 rachel
xxxx
They took over

Who?

Depression
anxiety
self hatred


They all took over

Her mind
Her body
Her soul

She maybe alive
But deep down
She's not
She's gone
/drdc/
When you watch the one you love the most become unhappy.
And there's nothing you can do about it because they won't let you in.
They don't want to share with you,
even though they know you wouldn't do or say anything to hurt them.
At least not intentionally.
And you ask and ask them what's wrong.
But they keep quiet and just distance themselves away from you.
You ask what's wrong,
They tell you they need space.
So you give it to them.
They probably just need to push you ways because they know you see everything about them.
You can see through them like glass,
and they don't want you to see how they're shattered.
So you think about them at night,
before you sleep.
About their smile and their laugh.
How you miss it.
And you'd do anything to get it back.
To breathe some life into your ghost.
And then finally,
when you think you may be getting somewhere with them,
maybe they'll tell you their secrets,
tell you what's hurting them.
So you say it..
You say it all.
I hate what's hurting you,
and I'd do or give anything to make it stop.
And you wait for them to respond,
but when they do all they say is
Okay, I'll be fine! Thanks.
And you just sit there with your eyes stinging because they are so much apart of you that when they're away from themselves,
they're away from you too.
It's like you can't breathe right.
So here I am sitting, worrying.
Wondering when you'll let me through.
Wishing I could drive to your house right now,
come through your door,
hold your face in my hands so I can see your eyes and you can see mine..
Looking into nothing but honesty,
so that if one doesn't tell the truth,
the other can see it right away.
Or maybe I'd be too chicken with such a direct approach,
knowing you don't like my finger prints staining your skin.
So I'd wait till we went to bed,
you lying on your side and I on mine.
Whispering in scratchy voices,
I'd ask what's wrong.
I'd hope you'd tell me.
Maybe if your answer was said in a dark room,
the heaviness would disappear from your words,
letting them float up to the ceiling until they escaped out the window.
I can't say for sure.
You don't open up.
And it kills me to know that,
that you can't even for me.
And it kills me more that my words probably wouldn't help you at all,
even if I said them a million times.
So I'll just repeat myself and say I'm here for you,
always.
And you'll probably repeat yourself too,
and say that you'll be fine.
Straight from the heart.
 Oct 2013 rachel
Laurel Elizabeth
So there I saw-
and then I curled
into my fetal ball of envy

my happiness had coagulated
and chilled
like a refrozen popsicle
at the back of the freezer.

even if you melted
my
stale
cracked
enclosure
you would still smell
the jealous-
like
hangover
on my breath

I swear it even
exploits my muscles
my tendons grimace
like massive internal
pulley systems.

when my mind
frowns condescendingly
at my juvenile grievances,
the follies laugh their
disassembled modulations
and ignore my pleas

no-it takes more than that.
my every yellow Laureling
becomes a necessity
to coax, soften my
serpentine
charity
from whence I have locked it.
 Oct 2013 rachel
psamps
I Can't
 Oct 2013 rachel
psamps
The loud silence overwhelms us
The last of our conversation
Still echoes in our heads
Tension spreads
Eyes wander, heads turn.
There are still things to be said
But there is only so much that can be done
To drown the silent words
That float endlessly
Across our minds...
 Oct 2013 rachel
ECKate
Untitled
 Oct 2013 rachel
ECKate
Had I pen instead of keyboard I might shred the paper out of bittersweet anger
drab thoughts, remorse
I'm a zombie, just a corpse.

Had I pen I might let the ink bleed ,
unsure of my thoughts and what I might say, instead the curser blinks away

Had I no intellect to stay silent,
I would try to interrogate, scream, just to understand.
I guess that's just what a woman sometimes gets from a man.

This is a bad hour; emotions drained beyond the waking norm.
Disappointment reads thick in thoughts,
each ticking moment set it in,
without means to rewind the clock. stop.

but had I brakes, I might have used.
Might have thought it through
On how cliche , might of thought of what this could do.
It is what it is he did say,
And all along I knew.

© 2015 Kate Volk
 Oct 2013 rachel
Brianna
you win.
 Oct 2013 rachel
Brianna
I liked you better when you were self harming and sad because at least then you paid attention.
You used to stand up for me and help me get through the day-- no you ignore me like I never knew you.
You used to tell me I was beautiful and gorgeous-- now you just say I'm pretty and okay.
You were the one who used to build me up when I was down-- now you tear me down every chance you get.
There was a time when my feelings meant everything to you but that was back when I said you were too nice
I told you I didn't like it when guys were nice to me and you told me you would never  change--I guess we both lied.
I told you that you were too clingy for me now all I want is for you to hold me and tell me you love me still.
You made it clear, I am nothing important anymore, and the worst part is I blame this entirely on myself.

If you wanted revenge you got it.
You win.
 Oct 2013 rachel
bb
There are gargoyles where your eyes should be. I know that even if there is water flowing from those grotesque trenches, you promised me that you would keep the demons from inside of you, when you were the demon the whole time.
  I have lain at your feet like a bear pelt rug and felt your toes curl into me while you read your favorite book. I have seen all of your dark ways and I have felt every cigarette you put on me in the form of your mouth. You linger in the back of my throat like a violent coughing spell, and I think I loved the burning sensation, and there is no doubt in my mind that when you slam the door I wish it was my body you were shoving into the doorjam.
  If you turn off the lights and you find that you can still see me vividly, you should remember that I know every crease in your feet and every corner of your mouth. I don't easily forget the people I have dropped to my knees for. You are every piece of paper I have ripped into shreds on your honor and strewn across the room like our clothes. Now my heart doesn't feel so good in your hands, does it?
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