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Katie Oct 21
Pictures are nothing but captures of fiction;
I'll burn them.
Words spoken made perfect sense;
I'll regret them.
Truths are funny when they're spoken from the mouth of a liar;
I'll laugh at them.
Kisses with passion seem relevant when you love someone;
I'll hate them.
Every one who said you were good for me;
I'll burn them.
blackbiird Sep 30
Beneath the garden
shed, her bones bleed
Without much notice of

Smells of rotten garbage
Permeated the building
Of her demise
Without much notice of

Souless, lifeless carcass
Becomes her as she loses
Unconsciousness beneath the
Rotting soil.

And the malevolence
Took over.
"write a poem,"

Sylvia Plath commanded summer before last.
Her voice in all places I looked.
Avoided and silenced letters
Crawled in front of my mind and knocked on my skull:
A polite entry into their society with a family,
Other words in Gregorian chant:
You cannot undo insanity in the third decade.

I tell the others, the eyes around me, that these words
Feel like birth announced just now,
With no time to prepare or plan, to nest and caress
The down feathery face, or kiss his tiny mouth.

A poem emerges with a scream,
Bony hands encircling my throat and pushing
Into formation. The existence of new words--
Always the ones in the language before,
Though in this birth the roots twist under the tree.
When the walls are closing in
I don’t know where to begin
That old M.A.S.H theme song
Ringing in my head
A presentience of ~
You’re better off dead
Those who are supposed to love me
Abandon me in my time of need
Persecute me, when I’m vulnerable
Their evil shines ~ such wicked deed
As more of me gets lost
Here, I count the cost
There are no avenues of hope
To cling to
No vision. No scope.
No nightingale to sing to
They leave me with nothing
They revel in my despair
Is there anyone genuine out there?
Once again, I’m picking myself off the floor
I simply cannot do it anymore
My eyes dimmed and dry
This world is not for me
Where do I chose to die?
I’m waiting by the sea....
Tonight is the night
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