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Cher journal,

Je n’ai point envie de te décrire ma journée périlleuse.
Tout ce que je ne veux, c’est t’écrire des vers inoubliables,
Que mon cœur, me dicte, éprit par la beauté de ce monde.
Car, tu es le mémoire, qui restera dans les mémoires.
Beth Bayliss Apr 2019
oh i know that i'll die
in the warmth of your
a r m s
maybe I finally get to be cosette
milkymoon Mar 2019
the fire blows me south;

a relinquishing resistance pulls.

Mountains part starboard and port side,

Gifting my tastebuds with an Eau rose river -

eroding the human udders.

The smooth meadows enchanted a rabbit-hole;

a salty surprise enriched my lime tree.

Quaffing the rabbits -

tasting of oak and the cause of my berocca and cheeseburger breakfast -

i ****** it dry.

The bosky acres loomed as Moses seductively parted the red sea.

A 9-volt battery shocked my insides,

as an explosion baffled my thoughts.

The thick butterscotch and oyster infused creek

trickled pass a warm apple pie scented bay -

seeping into her bitter sea.
I was in the first grade
I was sitting down during storytime next to this kid named Michael
I was a normal kid
I chased boys on the playground and I was friends with mostly girls
Who knows what my teacher was reading
I wasn’t paying attention
I was staring at Michael
He was my first crush
I didn't know why I liked him but I did
Something came over me and as he’s intently listening to the story
I turn to him and kissed him
He looks back at me in disgust and thankfully no one saw me do it
I never talked to him again and he moved that next year

I'm in the fifth grade
I'm texting one of my best friends and the time
He just happens to be a guy
He texts me a picture of someone from a game
It's a cute character so I type “ aww he’s cute”
Autocorrect had a different plan for me and changed it to “ aww you're cute”
I started freaking out at what he would say
But he responded with “ your cute too”
We ended up dating and he was my first boyfriend
I loved him and he loved me
We went to the movies together and sat next each other every day on the bus
He bought me candy and a stuffed rabbit for Valentines day
His parents said that he wasn’t allowed to date till he was in high school
So our relationship ended quickly

In my house, we never really talked about dating or sexuality
But occasionally my grandparents talked about a “gay” couple they knew
I didn't know what that meant so one day I looked it up
To my surprise, it meant a guy who is attracted to another guy
And I was confused, I didn't know that this was ok
I didn’t know people felt this way and I started questioning myself
Did I like girls
Did I like guys
I didn’t know anymore and I questioned this for a while
Nobody knew about my build up question that only I could answer
And it started taking over my thoughts
Every girl that I saw I looked away cuz I didn't want to give off the wrong impression
Nobody talked about sexuality
I didn't know anyone who liked the same gender as their own

I was at church
And I was in the sixth grade
I'm sitting next to my friend
She just happens to be a girl
She’s stuttering on her words and is more awkward now
I ask her what’s wrong and she says that she likes me
I start to blush
Her head is in her knees and she's about to cry
I tell her that I like her too  
She lifts up her head to reveal her bright red cheeks
She grabs my face and kisses me
I tell her that I love her and she insists that she loves me more
I liked girls, but I was still confused
How could I like a girl and a guy
I told her about this and she gave me the title BISEXUAL
She gave me a label, I word to finally express how I felt
I still kept these feeling to myself
I didn’t tell anyone and nobody knew about my relationship with her

We broke up and I was depressed
But I was comfortable with myself, comfortable in my skin
I wasn't ashamed of being bisexual and I was shown that it's ok
That's it’s ok to have these feeling
And no I’m not figuring out my sexuality
That’s already figured out
I’m not confused, I’m not desperate
And no I don't like everyone I see so please don’t ask

I’m bisexual
I like girls and guys and everything in between
Gender doesn't matter to me cuz all that matters is personality
Society likes to brainwash people to think that girls like guys and guys like girls
But why
Why must we be confined to the idea that we can’t explore our sexuality
And we can't love who we want to
Let it be said that if God didn't want us this way
He wouldn’t have created us this way
And if God didn't want us to like our own gender
Why did he allow us to
He sleeps. An enigma, his life bereft -
He lived then died once his angel had left.
It happened as simply as anything might,
As from day there follows the coming of night.
The poem at the end of my favourite book. Presumably co.mposed by Marius Pontmercy to honour the life of Jean Valjean. One day I hope to translate Les Miserables in full, until then, here's a very small section of it.
Ardent lovers and scholars austere
Love equally, in their twilight years,
Powerful and gentle cats, their masters’s pride,
Who like them are cautious and indoors abide.

Friends of science and sensual delight
They seek the silence of the night;
The dark god would have them guarding graves,
Were they so humble as to be his slaves.

They have the air of a sphinx on a throne
With thoughts of solitude they lie alone,
Who seem to sleep in a dream eternal;

Their fertile ***** are full of magic sparks,
And gold patches  and sable marks
Sparkle dimly their eyes infernal.
It's a tale of revolution and dread
Where most characters wind up dead
Some end up insane
Some end up in the Seine
And all of this over some bread
noah w Apr 2016
do not mourn!
we did not die!
do not weep!
we still remain!

we still cast long shadows
in unseen halls,
we batter at your windows
and cry your name
when long night falls.

our wounds do not heal
and our smiles do not fade
and our barricades hold strong
and you remember still our song.
Dear reader, you know that we’re cursed
By our nature’s decadent thirst
At the hand of the devil
We’re drawn unto evil
But it’s boredom that’s really the worst!
A literary limerick reduction of Baudelaire's Au Lecteur.
Caitlin Fisher Oct 2014
The wind plays a haunting tone
It tells me that I’ll die all alone

Far from my friends
A breaths away from where they can no longer defend

My footsteps fall to the sound of guns
It’s too late to become undone

Shiny eyes watch me
The little, waiting absentee

With ****** wrists wrenched behind my back
Standing bound before a man on horseback

And a ***** rag covering his eyes
The absentees’ about to die

Long live France; Long live the future
And the flower falls to the shots of the shoo
based off a certain character death in Les Miz. Try and guess which one

— The End —