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  Jan 2018 Quinn
Knowledge Variable
I think the Earth or this life, has no
Inherent goodness. Maybe it’s all
up to the individual to contribute,
no-matter how little or how much.
But it’s all timely when the sun’s
rays spark through as we remember
in terms of nostalgia, how important
it is to romance under moonlight.
And we all yearn to be loved during
times of courting lover. But it is
no poet's intent to advance humanity,
maybe just to speak the minds.
Even if all the poets embellish in
romance, lush live’s - holding hands.
Jazz.
Quinn Jan 2018
i think i forgot to take my pills today
because

i swear somebody just slammed a car door
behind me

why else would my ear be ringing and my
body jumping

unless that was simply the sound of my
neck snapping.

as my
brain
body dis-
connects
and every-
thing
looks like a
circle be-
cause it
all whizzes
past me
my body
can't
respond
because

yes

that was the sound of my neck snapping.

Maybe i just rolled my head
back too hard in agony
tragic forget-mistake

'take these
everyday'

'or what?'

'you might feel like yourself'

what a thought.

This can't be me-
i've cried three
times today, please
someone tell me
why i can't sleep
without dreaming
...
because i always
have to wake up.
I hate missing a day, I always feel insane :P
  Jan 2018 Quinn
Graff1980
If I can’t have pages
and pages
of pure brilliance,
then give me

one
word
drips
that
slow-
ly
fill
the
cup
up
to
its
tip.
I’ll
grate-
ful-
ly
take
every
sweet
syl-
lable
that
I
can
get.
  Jan 2018 Quinn
Rachel Chumley
FOR loving ME
FOR BEING SO ABOVE ME
EVEN THROUGH YOUR INFERIORITY-
FOR DOING SO MUCH FOR ME
BUT ACTUALLY DOING SO LITTLE.
DON’T LOOK AT ME, BUT
PLEASE DON’T LOOK AWAY.

I FIND MYSELF TANGLED IN YOUR SATIN BEDSHEETS.
AS OFTEN AS I FIND MYSELF TANGLED IN WORDS AT YOUR THROAT.
I CAN'T STRESS IT ENOUGH.
I NO LONGER FEEL love. I FEEL ALL OF THE WEIGHT, THOUGH YOUR TOUCH MAKES THE LOAD OF CONDITION WEIGHTLESS.
THE LIFT OF THIS BURDEN IS MOMENTARY.
WE GRAVITATE, WE CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT.
I HATE YOU
FOR loving ME.
Revised on Jan. 4th.
This was my submission to join this site.
Quinn Jan 2018
My name is Mr.
Nobody, and where I live
no one notices

me. Except for my
reflection, and through swirling
chaos, my mirror

taught me, to mask my
insides, lights behind my eyes
with an outside that's

also me, just a
bit more brittle. My shell that
I wear doesn't like

think or care about
people's little problems while
skinny starve-people

sit in the sand while
I hear bubble-people speak.
The innocence in

them concealed as a
person, hasn't been pricked
by the planet's harsh

criticisms, and
the people they haven't grown
up to be yet are

trapped in fast tracked
single mindedness, without
seeing life's puzzle.

I dance my way through
a lost portrait of chaos,
have you ever thought

of the forbidden
garden of eden? Was it
a fruit perched in a

garden? Or the earth
that I walk on. Do people
think about stillness

before biting from
the perfect enclosed system
that beauty and trees

were frame formed out of?
Gaia kissed me then spoke
I blended into

her perfect portrait,
no more important than a
droplet of water.

Insignificance
is inherent to life and
I hate when people

think themselves taller
than forests or think deeper
than creatures living

at the bottom of
the ocean. My mirror sits
frozen behind each

of my eyelids, so
each time I blink I transport
to tranquility,

only to open
my eyes and find spaces full
of bubble-people

who have not yet learned
to blink, world shrink perceived as
the seven seas world

breezes and knowledge
that is fake and brittle. and

My
   name
            is
               Mr. Nobody
                          and where I live
                                   no one notices me
                                              except for my reflection.
It is so easy to be invisible these days...
Quinn Jan 2018
I used to love you
but now I don't know
who you are...
-mother

She asks me why I am
shape-shifted from nice
to mean.

Bang bang bang
goes my body against the
side of a bathroom door.

I don't know what you mean, I told her,
I have just lost my love for people.

My friends tell me,
'You must've had a good time
last night" When they see the
back scratches etched up my
spine.

If only they saw my tears
flowing free and wild
like a raging river from a poster
dentists put up in their offices
so little kids can pretend like pulling
teeth doesn't hurt when it happens
next to someplace peaceful.

What made you so mean?

The clang clang
crash of my head
against a wall and his
finger between my teeth
made me mean.

The taste of blood
under the covers
made me mean.

He made me mean.

I miss the subtle simplicity
summer sweet electricity
of my childhood julys.

When I counted the clouds
and made trees into palaces
with my mind.

Found time ties down my
imagination and chips away
at each childhood memory.

Replacing hot happy colors with
blue green and grey, laying
positivity sweetly to its grave
singing a song while sneering
at its body secretly.

That is why I am mean mom,
it is not because of you,

it is from the world, society
kills itself every day
Working ourselves to
death and shaming those
who take their own lives
early.

Pandemics freeze flash
millions of people's lives,
but in countless eyes
third world tragedy simply
doesn't exist.

Hyperconnectivity and
antidepressants define
my generation, what about yours?
And when he finally finished,
he ran out of the stall,
and into a crowded street,
without looking me in the eye.

That is why I am mean.
Sometimes boys hurt boys too

— The End —