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I realize
That not all men
****

That not all men
Beat

That not all men
Brutalize

That not all men
Leave

That not all men
Are destructive

But it's enough men
For me to be scared
Of all men
  Jul 2016 Evangeline Rose
autumn
The only part of my day
That I look forward to
Is when I go to bed
And lay there making up scenarios
In my head.

I think of comebacks
To 8th grade bullies.
I think of witty retorts
To my mother's snide comments.
I think of intelligent things to add
To conversations I had months ago.

I think of all the things
I was too scared to say.

And in my mind
I say them.
And pretend how things would be different
If only I had the courage to speak.
  Jul 2016 Evangeline Rose
Pavel Chekov
as the darkness manifests inside
her heart gives out a cry,
it attempts to erupt,
it attempts to destroy,

the darkness is no joke,
it tears you apart,
you cannot escape,
you cannot hear a voice,
you cannot make a sound,

the darkness has decided to stay,
to corrupt,
to slowly,
ever so slowly,

bring you down on your knees,
to make you bow before it,
to make you kiss the ground,

because the darkness isn't a joke,
because the darkness arrived,
because the darkness decided to manifest it's self inside.

because the darkness took away your voice,
because you cannot hear a cry,

*save me
Fog
I.

No, don't go now. Please
don't go now; the fog is creating ghosts
out of people and we're breathing clouds out of our mouths.
Tell me about that time when you held your breath
under the lake for six years and still survived;
tell me how if I do that, it'll never work.
I'm not a sea God
any more.


II.

My knees tell better stories than my tongue
ever did, please don't; wretched hive harangues
the mind in a plague, can't you see I'm holding you down
and telling you you're all I ever wanted,
you're all I ever wanted; your head is the stuff of dreams
you're all I ever wanted; you can put your arm
right through me and only feel mist;
I am fog. I'm creating ghosts out of you.

III.

Make it up to me in a rainbow of hues of grey;
at the end of it I'm holding my ribs open. I've never
been more colourful and sad at the same time.
You're the mirrors to my house; stay
has always sounded better than don't go

yet neither seems to work anymore.
the pieces fall into place
&
sometimes
the place falls into pieces
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