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Meg Howell Mar 2015
After the storm, when the clouds are spiteful and vengeance has been taken
Breaking character at play practice for a moment of pure ecstasy and humor
Catching colds, leaving an imprint of sickness and annoyance on one's face
Dodging the curious stares of ex lovers with a feeling of relief
Envious emotions towards the summer when you're left with chills and bare trees
Frozen faces in shock of the aftermath of that day back in September
Gracious arms stretched open wide by a Savior who has nothing to hide
Helplessness left on the man alone in the street with nothing to eat
Ignorance comes with the guy who thinks he knows it all (but really knows little at all)
Jokes are thrown left and right coming straight for the girl in the corner who's feeling depression
Kindness shared between two strangers hopeful that soon they'll be more than that
Lovers share a softened gaze and a touch of hands producing electricity
Moms crying for their kids first day of school, tears of joy
Nasty boys with shallow minds give over everything they have thinking they have real "love" for the night
Open-minded people uniting in the world to feel a sense of community
Pretentious celebrities showing a carefree attitude for the camera, but heartbreak behind
Quaint and quiet simple minded people read their simple books and live in a state of simple happiness
Red cheeks flushed brighter than a firework in July
Static on the radio playing really low, a tune really slow, with a sad tone
Tucked in crop tops, high waisted jeans, & converse lending a helping hand with nostalgia for the 80s
Under said phrases and over said words shouted on the rooftop with remorse and bitterness
Vertigo left her in a state of constant anxiousness
Watery eyes dried by pruned fingers in the salt water pool mixed with salt water tears
X marking the spot where she caught him with her
Yellow, stained pages and the peaceful smell of antique books
Zealousness for life shone in her eyes, almost like a musician when their fingers brush calmly and excitedly over their instrument
I don't know. Take it as what you think it means **.
Its a horrible feeling.

It takes hold of your body.

Suffocating almost.

Toying with your mind,

you become someone you're not.

You want blood.



It creeps up your throat,

making you feel sick.

Its cold, thin hands crushing your chest,

causing your heart to ache.



Emotions tangle with anger.

A horrible, treacherous  battle.

Anger always wins. Always.



Then you grow cold.

Its sickening breath rolling over your shoulders and down your spine.

It reminds you of your pain.

And you cant bare it.



The green monster has you by the throat,

and it wont let go.

Its always there.

Always.
Dawn Anderson Nov 2014
What if?
life
is just
a game
that we
all play
to
win.

And what if?
the game
never really
has a
**winner.
Hmm?
Natalie Hart Nov 2014
all these pretty people
with ******* flawless skin
unblemished bodies
to contain their confident
loving souls
i look in the mirror
and i cry
i can't take what looks back at me
its agonizing imperfections
and taunting discontentment
tonight i want to die
but i won't tomorrow
so i hold on
despite hating myself entirely
Ren O May 2014
The seed of jealousy is a powerful thing
It grows when fed things you see,
Things you think you could potentially have but don’t
Things that shake your security and foundation

It makes you hateful and bitter
It makes you weak and passive
It makes you do things you shouldn’t do
Like hurt people
And lie

When I heard her first fake laugh it made me nervous
Her subtle insults made me afraid and not trust myself
So I thought and thought until my brains couldn’t take it
I gave it to someone else to sort out
The results came back: Yes, she wanted me gone but couldn’t tell me herself

So she would gaslight me
Passively say things that make me uncomfortable
And still delicately insult me, make me feel like I was wrong

I remembered I told her that women had done that before to drive me insane
She broke me down to frail my human heart
Tore me a part
Take out my bones and scratch, “You’re not worthy,” into them

What she didn’t understand is since I’ve been through it before
I could deal with it again
Much healthier, this time
I can reassemble myself just fine
Polish my bones and mend my skin myself

Because I won’t abuse drugs like she does
I have my hands to release all my energy
I can channel my rage through my voice
And scream louder than anyone knows
I show how I feel through words and images
My hands create and cleanse my world

I know I’ll be okay
It’s really her I’m sad for,
She doesn’t know how to take care of herself

Once I left, her kingdom of filth and loneliness piled up again
And she sat in her throne of 7-11 Styrofoam cups
Wearing her gown of fast food paper bags
Listening to the voices inside her head
Wanting to be loved again
Saddam Husen Apr 2014
Balm for Your Soul

Every feeling is real
It is new but effectively true
Now track my every wreck
This vital virtue could not control by any rescue.

Feel my ultimate jealousy
for your standing by others end
whether he is your friend
I just want a walk, hand in hand with you.

You are irrestrictive elusive
you are not here yet luring
Fast stimulation for your curing
Violent-nascent, hollow-shadow, hard to spend moments few.

— The End —