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Every October I, like the moon, cry craters.
 Jul 2013 Sydney Ranson
emma
The residue of ***** lined the empty bottle.
A deep inhale of smoke,
an exhale of problems.

Lightheaded I fumble,
clasping a cold lifeless piece of metal.
I cried "save me"
release all my demons.

I am safe for now,
drowning in a sea of crimson security.
*trigger warning*
you may watch me crest the icy black
surface of your minds wide ocean
with moonlight catching brilliant spray
and casting shadows of doubt
follow me down
     and listen to me
   singing you to sleep
a pacifist lullaby
of malcontent
and lonliness

your breath is as level as the choppy seas
and your thoughts will follow wherever I please

I know that you have reservations
keeping your heart bound
safely to the shore,
your hopes lapping loosely around your feet
receding,
returning,
remitting,
refreshing,
and all the while you know
that the whitecaps
     are the faces of regret
     are the voices of dissent
     are forces to be reckoned
and that stormy seas are only a problem
if you're trying to stay afloat

each night as you dream, your thoughts set sail
and I will be your great white whale
 Jul 2013 Sydney Ranson
Chris T
Van Gogh
Cut his ear off and mailed it to a ******* in a box
For you I'd rip my heart out, ship it on a silver plate
And you'd
Reject it, like they've frequently done, every one,
Van Gogh's *****, you, her, all of them, cold souls.
Perhaps
Not, quite possibly I'm wrong, the reason
For rejections isn't cold, concrete souls,
And it's
Our fault, the writer, the painter,
We, the foolish artists, that
Decide
To package organs in
The mail for our loves,
That is,
Now that I think
It through,
Very
Strange.

Also poetic.
Artsy even.
So please,
Send a thank you note in return
At the very least.
And no, not a restraining order.
(And to end with a generic line
About poetry and the bard:
All these poems are my heart.
All of them.
So, here, take this,
I'm bleeding out for you.)
(Wait, what do you mean you only take cash?)
My newest one and I think it came out awesome. Funny, and the lines are counted so it's got some structure. Guys, this one is a masterpiece. Take it. Like it, I know you did. Also, it's the first poem I write since my birthday soooo... Good start to age 18. (2013)
I wondered
how floored I'd be
if I looked out my passenger side
window
and saw the glow off your skin
and that white cardigan
blow
in the wind.
to my surprise, I realized,
I would probably laugh
just a little,
give the volume a little fiddle
to crank it up, and ride on by
cause I wouldn't
give
a
****
Daniel Magner 2013
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