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 15° 
September Rose
When the day comes
That my light leaves
And I go to descend
What ever will they do with me
All the way down there
Where fire pours like rain
Main population: pain
The one place
in the earth,
sure to drive you insane
I suppose they would start normally
With pitchforks
And burns
But what ever would they do,
When those things just dont work?
I suppose they'd try to drown me
In magma
Or flames
But when that smile
forms across face
They'll see
I like the pain
So this might go on for centuries
They'd try as well
To hurt my mind
But when all they find is numbness
Well
I might get hired
 13° 
Larri
No one knows this, but you bleed words.
No one reads these words, for it's absurd.
To think your silly words might want to be heard.
Be cradled and be cherished,
A disappointment worth a demerit.
Have I got more time? I must spare it.
For you bleed words.
No one reads these words, for that's just absurd.
You're simply another cow led to pasture in the herd.
Follow the crowd or else you'll be picked out.
Lead a staggering speech, you must speak out loud.
So don't be an idiot and stand there bleeding words that no one has ever heard.
They want the perfect side of you so that's what you'll give them.
The shadow who's silent and bleeds blood like normal people do.
Normal.
People.
Oh god why can't you be normal?
Why must you twist these adjectives into slant rhymes?
Why must you make everything seem like a dream when all that's left for humans is to die.
Complete your task.
Be normal.
Normal people bleed blood.
You bleed poems you etched onto your wrist in colorful sharpie then hide under foolish hoodie sleeves.
Not even your mother knows this, these pained words she'll never see.
Look at me, why won't you just look at me?
Look at me bleeding.
Look at me bleeding blood.
Look at me being normal.
Why can't you be like me?
Why can I read you like a book, why can I see your thoughts with every nervous look.
Why can't you name a single poet other than yourself?
Why haven't you studied, oh lord you're so behind.
Too busy trying to find a creative way to describe colorfully dying.
You'll never be perfect.
You'll never be normal.
You bleed your words, and I bleed mine.
A letter from a 'perfect' person to someone like me, or like all poets. Someone who's different and can't really explain why. I'm new to sharing poetry but I hope this speaks to someone. Don't let anyone tell you what to write or who to be. Your mind is all you have, don't let it get corrupted. I wrote this to be read sort of fast and emotionally. <3
 6° 
Druzzayne Rika
Can't it just
not this harsh
not mush, but
not this hard
why this rush
can't it must
stop the gush
like but not
when it rusts
no more trust
ends to gust
it just got
lost again, tough.
I kept chasing
you, as if
you were
a distant dream.
But dreams
are not always
dreams.
Sometimes, we have
nightmares too.
When did those dreams turned into nightmares? When did I stop believing in the magic of dreams?
 5° 
cosmo naught
the angel on my shoulder
picked up smoking,
the devil on the other
took up yoga—

they don't know
how much they have
in common.
 4° 
Haley Tyler
And like that
my voice has been stolen away
Anxiety barricades like invisible steel walls
Trapped, I’m left banging with clenched fists
A prisoner within my own head
My brain a chemically imbalanced warden
My mind a solitary confinement
i've been denied bail | h.t

— The End —