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Xoe Mar 2
Black...        black...         empty...
I said please, come here, temp me,
"Not a chance" you're walking towards me,
But, who are you, it's hard to see,
And then it comes, like a hammer to my brain,
It hurts, I'm overwhelmed by the pain,
That's all I remember, you hit me so hard,
You left me so fast, I wasn't who you preferred,
"Wait" I said. I remember the taste, the smell, the feel,
The taste of peppermint, and a hint of chamomile,
The smell of home, a good book, and warm fire,
The feel, of a radiating, good, soft heart, pure,
I can hear the sirens, feel the blood, see the knew faces,
Know that your gone, who will fill those spaces
Here I am
I'll shut me down
With a head slam
I cannot frown
I can't remember what you just said
How can a concussion be so bad?

Here I am
I'll shut me down with a yes ma'am
If I'm good enough
Soon I'll be dead
How can my concussions be so bad?
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
Year after year
--at daylight savings--
he kept moving his clock backward,
but never forward,
until he wound-up in the wrong century.

He then slept in masks,
his dreams repeatedly
disbanding and reforming,
as if in someone else's show,
but it was his hallucinating set-list, for sure.

He lived at the call of the void,
feeding off peppermint sticks
and clusters of chokeberry,
to help ease the pressure.

One phantom summer,
he read The Joy of Euthanasia
from cover-to-cover, over and over,
until he could recite death.

He poured his heart
into his new work
as an artist of tacenda,
--yes, he kept a lid on it.

And when the pretty young bees
buzzed about underneath
their brazen parasols,
he'd smile up at the sun
for her complicit glow:
the warmest days
always drew them out to him,
like honey on the tongue.

Now naysayers may keep
him out of Canton,
but one day, like most serial killers,
they will name a school after him
and his hijinks.
Maggie Georgia Jan 2019
Writing through water
Thinking through dirt.
Brain, getting fuzzy.
really? don’t lie.
Study? I cannot.
Make me do it!
Please, make me do it..
Me, I, seeks help.
I can’t think the same,
I’m not the same.
Homework, tall brick wall,
Sports, I can do,
Essay, felt the tear,
I want to scream,
But I feel nothing.
It’s not a thing
Yet, but hopefully
Soon, I won’t fail.
But I will fall down
And never get up.
5 syllables 4 syllables. A poem I wrote while writing an essay, an essay I did not finish, an essay I wanted to cry over.
Brandon Conway Oct 2018
My countenance
made love with the harsh earth
she left me
bruised
confused
and bloodied
with a couple days
plucked out of my memory
thank whoever is above
for the few buddies
that pulled me to the
corner with a flashlight
bag of cold ice
shoulder rubs
and words of advice
I got back in the ring
ready for to resume the fight
I learned that night that
you can't beat Gaia
but that you could endure
a few rounds.

Just kidding,
I was knocked out
during the first round.
Tatiana Aug 2018
The drums' pounding sounds
echo deep in my chest
rattling my rib cage
a new heart beat is found.
I surge with the crowd
dealing with the push and pull
like it was the ocean.
Well we were on Ocean Avenue
So it sort of was.
People are being held above the surging waters
like boats floating on treacherous seas.
One boat emerges from the depths behind me
One that I did not see.
The next thing I knew
the head of the boat had hit me
connecting with the back of my head.
I turned around quickly
and pushed the boat along,
but by then the damage was already done.
I sang and danced to every song
Unaware until later of my new concussion.
I'm putting my "Forgotten Vow(el)s" series on hold as I am now concussed. I was at a punk rock concert, seeing bands such as Against Me and the Bouncing Souls. A girl was lifted up behind me, and started to fall onto me, hitting the back of my head with her head and that did it. This is my second concussion and I'm very annoyed to have gotten another one. So if you are going to punk rock shows, be aware of the risks mates. But also, go to punk rock shows because they are a blast.
Also I'm realizing now I could have said surfers instead of boats (bc crowd surfers lol), have I mentioned I'm concussed?
Also please excuse any obvious mistakes for obvious reasons.
Kendall Jul 2018
I think it’s happening again
I really hope that I’m wrong that I’m making it up that it’s all in my, head.
  I know where this road leads and it’s called depression
   From there, it’s my restriction with Ana
    I’m already freaking out. I don’t want to
     Go back down this road but it looks to be my only path
       I just feel like I’m f
                                         a
                                            l
                 ­                             l
                                  ­              i
                                                 ­ n
                                                     g apart.
Kendall May 2018
My outlet is gone, I feel as though I am a wounded animal that lashes out at the wrong people.
I’m not sure what I’m doing, but I cling, I cling like a leaf does in the fall waiting to change. Only to be ripped away and carried by the wind to a place I know not.
Or maybe I am the tree clingy to the leaves because once I lose them I will have nothing left.
Lonely.
No more leaves. No more trees.
Just a girl. Lost. Stumbling through the confusion that is life. Perpetually tired and sick of this mess I call home.
Over and over and over again this happens. Every fall the leaves are a sight to see.
But every time they leave the tree, on to bigger and better things.
TKO Aug 2016
It's been going on three years now,
It gets worse and I talk about it less.
Three years of swimming upstream
In a river of cognitive stress.

I don't recall what it's like
To feel rested after a restful night.
I don't remember not feeling high
Simply because all of the lights are too bright.

Friends presume that all is well
But it hinders me every day.
It is a dim room with stagnant air.
Grey clouds that never change.

I can't keep up anymore,
It's far too much of a strain,
Ever since the incident long ago
That bludgeoned and blunted my brain.

I trudge through every day
Shoes weighted with lead.
It feels like a dream
Because it's all in my head.
Julie Langlais Mar 2016
Jotting everything down
Lists and dates
NAMES Names names...
I know your faces
But I can't remember
Adding to my confusion
Forgetting simple things
In my daily routine
Question marks
Screen my thoughts  
What was I doing?
I ask myself
Entering a room
Where am I going with this
What was my point
Oh ya!!
I FORGOT

Jl 2016
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