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 Dec 2013 Tabitha
lm
i am.
 Dec 2013 Tabitha
lm
though my dreams are haunted
and my every step daunted,
i still am

though your memory brings me pain
making me cry out in vain,
i still am

though you're no longer mine
and my sun has no shine,
i still am

though my nights are cold
without your warmth to hold,
i still am

though my heart feels frozen
because it's not me you've chosen,
i still am

though daylight seems dark
and my eyes lost their spark,
i still am

though i want to give in
et je pense que c'est la fin,
i still am

i am
            i am
                     i am


and i believe that is enough
though every day is tough,
i am, i am, i am
and i always will be
At the end of Sylvia Plath's novel The Bell Jar, the main character is about to be interviewed by a panel of doctors to determine whether she is stable enough to be released from the mental hospital. She has survived depression, suicidal attempts, and finding her place in the world. Previously, she felt empty, dead, trapped by an invisible bell jar. But now, at the end of this journey, she feels her heartbeat, and reassures herself "I am, I am, I am." These powerful words have inspired this poem.
 Dec 2013 Tabitha
lm
I stood, smoke twirling around my fingers,
Cheeks tingling from the cold,
Eyes turned upward, toward the magnificent and bold.

Ice was melting off the branches,
Dripping onto my face, shoulders, hands.
The trees were crying, and time slipped away like sand.

The lamp post glowed and my cigarette burned,
The sound of cracking ice and water droplets echoed in my ears,
I stood there listening as I was baptized in cold tears.

I hadn't cried in what seemed like ages,
And tonight I believed the trees were weeping for me.
Thawing from their icy burden, it felt like an apology.

Sorry that you like how the cold makes you feel numb.
Sorry your sleep is haunted by things that were and have ended.
Sorry you are at war with your heart which you left undefended.


I silently nodded, thankful for their sympathy,
Flicking my cigarette I walked away from the dripping sorrow,
Hopefully like the ice on those branches, my worries will be gone tomorrow.
 Dec 2013 Tabitha
Jason
there once was a pyromaniac
he lit himself on fire
he should have panicked
but everything was just brighter
he lived from day to day
yearning to add to the pyre
he knew it to be easy
with a touch it would spread wildfire
but he was no devil
he could control his desire
so he lived in agony
even when his need grew dire
he'd never intrude unwelcome
almost like a vampire
but he was far too kind and reticent
to trap a victim whom he would squire
he scared them all away
with apathy and satire
he was too familiar with the anguish
his fire would inspire
he wanted to protect the beautiful souls
from the harm of its ire
he let his fire burn him to the ground
leaving nothing to quench the inquire
he watched as his fire ashed
his wings and invisibly divine attire
he let it consume him
alone, entire
there once was a pyromaniac
he lit himself on fire
he was resolutely resilient
he drove himself to the pyre
but in his final breath
he heard no lyre
he was a fool
that no one could admire
there once was a pyromaniac
he lit himself on fire
i would have held his hand
together nothing could conquer us, not the world, not a fire
 Dec 2013 Tabitha
JP Mantler
Drapes
 Dec 2013 Tabitha
JP Mantler
Drapes of madness cover the sky
As fiends run and cower to hide
Nevertheless they prey on the young
As the young go to sleep

When the light breaks through the village womb
The delirium burrows to sleep
Oil paintings of bride and groom
Made for fiends to keep

Friends of fiends mope and mope
Lamenting in fear; they cope and cope
Hence their gentle persistence
To shy away their evil

Sky shifts from orange vigor to madness
The fangs of loved ones feed off one another
Fiends run and cower to their only Mistress
Deep within the sappy dark cypress

When their bodies frolic with need
The pale eyes of love dance and feed
Luminous they are in front of black cloth
Draping the beautiful sky
 Dec 2013 Tabitha
JP Mantler
I laugh at your past
When you were all sad
But when you come back
My old self is fulfilled

My new self is awakened
From the beauty around
Which had caress my soul
Of a love so profound

The cloud of chromatic s
Rain above my drab thought
The beginning quite dreary
Ending with beauty I had sought
 Dec 2013 Tabitha
moonlit
the look in her eyes
gave her away
every time.
no matter how many times
she insisted she was fine
all you had to do
was look her
dead in the eye,
then
and only then
could you tell that she,
in fact,
was never really fine.
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