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Amethyst crystals shining in the sunlight
Violet skies in the dusky night
Lavender flowers arranged in a glass vase
Lilac clouds floating in the vibrant sunset
Indigo seas reflecting the dark sky
Plum fruits hanging from the sturdy branches
Fuchsia trees clustered in the deep forest
Magenta lipstick smeared across a smile
Orchid plants flowing in the cool breeze
I fed you my ribs.
You crossed without looking.

My voice curdled to salt.
You spat. I rotted.

I placed my pulse in your palm.
The veins unraveled.

Now, I dissolve in your breath
a ghost too thin to haunt.
Gideon Mar 8
Golden light streams from the heavens.
Streaks of vibrancy smear the sky,
Tearing into the clouds, as the sun descends on the earth.
Like rockets, an explosion of color decorates the above.
With fiery love, a sunset falls like a sparkling firework.
Eyes watch as the brilliant bombing takes the light from the hills.
Alas, night has overtaken the warzone of the sky’s stage once more.
May the battle continue tomorrow.
Gideon Mar 8
Color the sky with cerulean blue.
Know in your heart it will be true.
Paint the clouds titanium white.
Use indigo to pigment the night.
Oh, painter, your palette is as sharp as your knife.
May it guide you towards vibrancy all of your life.
my body is made of pretty crushed stars
tiny tin cans
and older toy cars
my brain is fragmented
filled with sorrow and woe
my hair is woven
with silk and with gold
my nails are like tokens
prizes to be sold
my body an object
a toy to be won
my life is a mess
and im having fun
words dont always have to be positive. sometimes theyre nostalgic or sad and angry. a lot of our poems are sad.
-Alexei
Datore Fargo Mar 5
One day I will be gone,
and you will grit your teeth,
but that will be okay.
I know you will hurt,
your chest will be in pain.
Your little hands,
that I once held,
will ball up into fists,
and your eyes,
will well up with tears.
But that will be okay,
because I’m not truly gone,
I’m right here,
I will wipe those tears,
right off your cheeks.
Think of me,
when a butterfly passes by,
or a sunset is so beautiful,
you can’t help,
but catch your breath,
I’m right here.
I will always be,
just right here.
ChinHooi Ng Mar 3
Red for economics,  
green for English,  
white for ICT
your files stacked in my hands,  
pages filled with notes in your careful script
I never needed to ask; you just lent them
as if sharing knowledge meant sharing a part of you. 

A classroom of seventeen,  
but I only counted one.
I traced your desk with my fingertips,  
opened your pencil case just to see  
what colors you carried,  
what secrets lived between the erasers and sharpies.  

We worked in groups,  
side by side but never quite close enough.  
I stole glances when I thought you wouldn’t notice,  
but maybe you always did.  
Maybe that’s why you smiled so easily,  
why you never pulled away.  

Years have stretched between us,  
but high school still lingers like a cozy
dream  
I wake from too slowly.  
Your files, your laughter, your presence in the last row
they live in me
as if time forgot to take them when it took you.
Kat M Feb 28
A racing heart beating into wine
But not of her usual consumption
Though eyes, nose, and mouth do collide
If you could picture the sky melting
From a polluted pumpkin patch
To the ocher yellow drawl of a sunny day
You would meet me in the autumn rhythm,
Sinking into the scent of raspberry-poisoned honey.
Eat me in the form of pomegranate-shaped pearls
The tool of Winter’s maker seeks contrast
Of a thorn’s peck on fragile snow.
Marmalade, you are my mauve-colored sheep
Sing your song through the fangs of a monster's breath
I sink into your embrace wild and vivid with jeweled-toned eyes
Feedback Welcome!
Kat M Feb 27
A periwinkle sunset ran across the room
only to devolve into the slippery realization
that the heaviness of wanderlust can be no more

Drunken illusions peck at me once again
sober lullabies dance merrily in rainbow bubbles
drifting through a nebula, Zinging with glee

the couch proclaims another victim
****** into the vacuum of many coats
all fuzzy or woolen cuffed

Punching through the withered vindrals
blinded with foggy concrete
a fluttering vision of gems

makes the garden cornucopia come to life
A creeping smile spiders up the face
with blank stares into empty jars

radiating a glittery photocopied jaw
Now becoming closer to thee
crawling through the messy webs of despair

Children's laughter carries you closer
till suddenly vimbers rattle past
subtlety crunching leaves, you looking up
at the bottom floor
Feedback Welcome!
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