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Khadro Jama Jan 18
I felt empty
where ever I went
there were not footsteps left behind
I felt as if I didn't even exist
and I didn't then...
I was walking around soulless drowning in my sorrows,
drowning in despair.
life was as it was!
A ghost had a better chance of living.
I was alive but dead inside.
The drugs made me feel.
Sometimes I'd numb that out too
I wished for a hangover since I could never get one.
I would go clubbing and lose myself in the music
I love dancing, but swinging left and right Id just stop find a corner and just pretend that I cared drowned me in some patron.
I'd go to weddings with friends and during that cute moment ( slow dancing).
I'd be smiling whiling crying on the inside
( truly was a beautiful moment).
Im just too heartbroken.
I see family's in parks
Their smiles so bright
I wish we could have those sparks
I've never seen my parents together
I was only three
Why does it have to be this way
Makes me feel empty
Didn't have a mom til I was 7
Now i don't have a dad
Don't know what's its like
And I never will and its sad
But I'm OK
I mean i don't seem sad
But does that really mean anything
When I really feel so bad
my parents divorced when i was 3, I mean most the story is in the poem
"Action!"
My director calls.
As I rehearse for my school play,
"Dear Evan Hansen,
We've been way to out of touch!"
I sing.
"CUT! CUT! CUT!"
I know that sound to well.
"Non-satisfactory"
"More Enthusiasm!"
"Act knowing your experiences"
All statements stab me,
Like a knife.
I try, I really do!
But my experiences,
Are the things holding me back.
My friend's suicide attempt.
My parent's divorce.
My sister's depression.
And my non-acceptance,
only because of my presence!!!!!
So don't judge me if I can't act,
When I'm only taking your advice.
I do act at my school. And I am judged by my director. That line is from a song called "Sincerely Me" from the musical, "Dear Evan Hanson". It's my favorite musical!!!!
She Writes Jan 9
I slipped away from you into the darkness
Before dawn could shine a light on reason
The cycle must be broken, but how?
Your sun was always brighter than my moon
I was praying for you
not to have a change of heart
but maybe my prayers
were not loud enough to be granted
Nonetheless, I liked it better
when you would always pull my hand
to tuck it on on your coat
and let your warmth
cover the coldness of mine
rather than the attempts of shunning the prospect
of our hands to simply touch
I liked it better
when you would always greet me
with flowers after our petty quarrels
rather than welcoming me
with your unshaven face,
disheveled coat and the reeking of alcohol in you
I liked it better
when you would plan out
our happy ending in a sheet of old tattered paper
with your untidy handwriting
rather than signing the new printed paper
which crumbled the possibility of the life
I've been trying to build with you
I saw the story of creation unfold before my face,
voices of masses screaming vows before the lord.

like the last meal, this is how the end began.

With words like stones exchanged between families in a divorce court.
Floo Dec 2018
I open the front door to a blizzard;
Welcome - bone aching air- into my (now your) warm home!
You've expelled the warmth.
I had spent so long accumulating that.

The chill came in
Slight as a spider's silk
Effortlessly tieing down my limbs
Pneumonia induced coma
Ground bound fly
That is I
We're going nowhere

Strength withers and erodes,
Like long forgotten cobwebs beneath porcelain bathtubs and I know you take showers but the point still stands
I'm rendered useless below the surface
But abandoned in whole

I'm faucets rusted shut,
Realeasing but a useless slither of
Thick brick
Orange
Sedimented liquid
Your negligence made using me a disappointment
But we've been in this house forever
And all our broken faucets are staying here.

Your breathless whisper was a hurricane,
And my door would tear from the hinges before I could try to run from
the damage that I foresaw

A conscious paralysis,
Being only somewhat entirely aware
Of your needfulness
And my helplessness
And our restlessness
In all that we could never control

"Come in," I say
"I'm sorry" you reply
As you enter
William Murray Dec 2018
I met someone... well, not really ‘met’
But I’m talking to a girl that I met on one of those dating apps.
Everyday for the past week we’ve talked
And everyday my heart has smiled.
I think I might like her. I don’t know, it’s been a while.
I’ll probably mess it up anyhow.
I was very very Inebriated when I wrote this. But it’s true, I like this girl, and I’ll probably mess it up.
Jarvis Dec 2018
Custody,
first a checkerboard of red and white squares
trapped between thick black bars.
Days of the week,
prisons,
and I was wrongly convicted.
My fingers reach for help through my metal cage,
yet only receive paper cuts
on the corners of divorce letters.
Letters drowned in blood bleed off the page
and stain my Saturdays and Sundays.
Custody,
now neatly separated into red and white columns,
walls dividing weeks and weekends.
National borders barricade one house from the other.
Two countries clash in a
war waged with
two atomic blasts burning
my culture into ash
white as paper.
Custody,
the absence of red and
the erasure of my father
from the calendar taped to
my mother’s refrigerator,
and I’m frozen in place.
Custody,
a vast snow-white plane:
One step forward,
nothing in my future.
One step backward,
blizzards in my past.
Custody,
ground made of paper so thin,
with every step,
life crumples under my feet.
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