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A boy, sixteen,
Like he's seventy.
Things he's seen,
Bares with levity.
Two eyes, too young,
To be witness
To a crime
That's so hannis.
Still he talks,
To his family.
Recalls the day,
All this happened.
Just eleven,
Saw the burglar coming,
Kicked down the door
Took mom to heaven.
Dad ran in,
But had no chance,
And in a moment
His life had passed.
The boy was left,
In the closet.
Held his breath,
Untill he lost it.
Tears streamed down,
Dropped from his cheek.
And out he ran,
While he weeped.
The killer noticed,
And quick two shots.
The boy was hurt,
The bad man dropped.
The sirens heard,
Police had come
To save the day.
Cuffed the man,
Took the boy away.
But alas,
The boy's still haunted,
To join his parents,
Was all he wanted.
*****, whiskey, ***
Turns out they don't make good dye
At least not for a bunny with a DUI
Still to make things worse this was his first year on the job

Life in prison, it's not easy
With so few places to hide your eggs
And the people aren't so friendly
To be blunt, eggs end up where they shouldn't be

*****, ink, dirt
Stained the bunnies fur unnaturally
This holiday no candy baskets were delivered
I'd like to see you hop with a ball and chain

Two pictures in one day
Newspaper headlines and a mug shot
Easter's not so pretty with a black eye
Drunk, resisting arrest, what a sad way for Easter to die
you're probably
too young for me
or looking for someone else;
a guy with more talent,
and a sense of adventure
or someone with an exotic accent,
who knows?

your purity
and shining blond hair
and quirky sense of style
have me wondering--
did it hurt when they shoved that metal in your nose,
and if you'd do the same to my heart
There is a line
between young and old,
it separates children from adults,
and it is infinite in its definition.
I am 16, 17, 18,
and I am old enough to have
Those Nights
that go on for days, months, years
(and I am also old enough to know
that they never end, only pause
for seconds and minutes).
I am five and I am being scolded
with sharp words and a slap on
the wrist,
but the next second I am
23 and closing my eyes,
whispering regret for hasty
actions unfounded.
I am old enough to know
it isn’t you against the world,
but me against life,
that vindictive *****,
but young enough to still
point my finger at her
invisible, irrevocable force
and blame her for my problems.
I am 34 and shaking my head
at the whimsical sighs of my peers,
and I am 21 dreaming big dreams,
big enough to fill a real-life snow globe.
And hell, sometimes I feel older than
the Tree of Life,
and sometimes I feel youth running
through my veins like fire.
I am old enough to know
that I don’t know anything,
and young enough to act like
I know everything.
But I am so knowledgeable,
because I know the worth in books
and learning and truth
and won’t take opinions as facts,
and I am so wise because I see these
mistakes that children and adults alike
make and repeat, and never learn,
but I am so ******* stupid,
ignorant, foolish for taking gold
that isn’t real.
I am 50 years ahead of my generation
and ten years younger in virtue alone.
Where do I fall?
Where do I fall?
Into the giant chasm between
where knowledge isn’t worth a penny
and stupidity can **** you.
I am stuck here
eight, eight-teen, eighty
moving between past and present
like a wraith.
I stand, fight, fall,
breakbendbreathe,
inhale, breathe, breathe,
don’t stop, not ever,
but God, breathing is the hardest part.
But I have to, keep breathing,
in and out, one at a time,
and even when I can’t anymore
I’ll be breathing in memory, conviction, faith
because I am not a number,
but all of them at once,
and I am here in this Great Divide
I call my lonely own
and I am ageless and breathing.
My question to the world is
Have you ever been lost?
Or felt like no meaning?
Empty and cold
Like a drug addict fiending
Drop everything
Just to pick up nothing
Put up a strong front
When you knew you were bluffing
Now you're hollowed out
Like a turkey no stuffing
And the universe is on you
With weight so crushing
You're walking in slow motion
And everyone is rushing
You're falling behind
So you open your mind
Only to find
That it has been confined
Now I'm left in the dust
To sit here and rust
Hitchhike with this sign
That says "Sanity or Bust"
Anthony J. Alexander 2008
I know I am alive when,
I think of you.
I know I am alive when,
You touch me.
I know I am alive when you hate me.
I know I am dead
When I see you with another man.
Here I sit,
making you smile,
making you laugh.
When I speak,
you feel it's right,
You feel it's good.
So to ask you,
what am I?
I am a lie.

Here I sit,
bringing tears to your eyes,
running down your face.
When I speak,
you feel your heart break,
you feel so empty.
So to ask you,
what am I?
I am the truth.

Here I sit,
laughing at jokes,
agreeing with everything.
When I speak,
we smile and always agree
on everything.
So to ask you,
what am I?
I'm a fake.

Here I am,
smiling at your comforts,
crying with your distractions.
When I speak,
a few listen,
and some will choose to ignore.
So to ask you,
who am I?
I am me.
How come all the websites say that people cut themselfs because they are angry or its the only thing they can control in life? Because some people do it because they need to be punished. They need to feel the blade because they know they are dirt and their mistakes are to big to forgive.
Feel free to comment
 May 2012 Rachel Klein
DeeDeeK
I want to make love with you
wildly, savagely, viciously
insatiable need crowds out all thought
except for how you feel to me
it's more than lustful carnal craving
raw passions threaten to explode
we're one, together in that moment
senses burning, overload
hearts pounding, muscles shaking
salty sweat, bodies aching
driven into breathless frenzy
release, that moment stopped in time
once more, to feel that you are mine
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