The looks of our children
combination of both our positives and negatives
from our different points of view
raised in the mixing of our worlds
the stance where it becomes their own
a product gaining independence
and the ability to be recognized for its uniqueness
not as a mix
but as a new form
were similarities may be found
maybe it gained your eyes
the ones I get lost in
or perhaps my smile
the one you so often bring to life
but their words remain true to their soul
in the hope of finding its match
the one to spark the cycle anew
creating the unique once more

I remember being alone, stuck in the mud
I remember my hands being stained with red blood
And even when the times got tough
My hard work was never enough
I'm not as perfect as you all see
My whole life I've just been trying to be free
My whole life I've waited to shine
But I'm still waiting for the right time
To you, I'm all a secret
But I'm a stranger, can you feel it?
I guess I'm so used to pain
That I'll take it over warm, summer rain
And when I have to deal with all listed above
There's a weight on my shoulders, that some call love
I've been waiting for something new
And right on my doorstep appears you
I'm running to a place way long gone
I don't even know what I am running from
But I do know I'd run 100 miles, back and to
Just so I could get one look at you
But even if I'm with you and your artists
That is not truly where my heart is
All my memories of the past are fake
I threw them in the thousand-feet deep lake
What was I even supposed to do?
I didn't know what I got myself into

I pressed the red button
Your smile the last thing I saw
I bid you good night
And was left alone with my thoughts

I told you I would write something happy
and you I wish to impress
but what if the only thing I can write about
are the thoughts that run obsessively through my head

I can only write about dreams
that I wish I had
about charming scenarios
where the ending is never sad

about others’s love life
their feelings and pains
I try to get in their head to decipher
what it contains

is it love or lust
that keeps him going
does he really love her
Or it’s fake love that’s showing

my dear sweet sister
says my poems are too gloomy
she asks why can’t i write
of things that are sunny

she asks for joy,
excitement and fun
but how can I write of feelings
I can’t out run

I do feel happiness
I try to explain
but what can I do when
it’s much easier to write about the pain

about heart breaks and sleepless nights
Crying and feeling alone inside
conflicting emotions when I’m feeling low
I just let my tears guide the way in how they flow

but my dear sister and friend of mine
maybe it’s time to have a change of heart
I should think when I feel and seek the good
for its inside me and I only have to find that page in the book

look deeper
than what I thought I knew
and write about how
my dreams come true

Write about friendships family and cake
smiles and laughter road trips and games
find what really drives me the motivation of my heart
and finally write a story that includes every part

Add my smiles,
the way I get up in the mornings,
my love for reading
and a steaming cup of coffee

The pain in my legs,
after a long night cooking
and how sleepless nights are worth it
when you see how big their smiles are looking

Find within myself
stories that are blended
and change the narrative to include
beginnings, middles and endings.

briefling
by michael r. burch

manishatched,hopsintotheMix,
cavorts,hassex(quick!,spawnan­ewBrood!);
then,likeamayfly,he’ssuddenlygone:
plantfood

NOTE: Here “briefling” is a dimunutive of “brief” and also a pun on “brief fling.” Keywords/Tags: brief, fling, man, hatched, hops, mix, ***, spawn, brood, mayfly, plant food

Did your body not warn you
before you were wrung dry?

The day you found yourself depleted,
the nights that lead upto it became fragile,
your cell heavy as they were heaved onto the bed.

Did you not listen to your body,
when you woke up with a heavy chest
and your body begged you to sleep?

Did you not acknowledge your heart
when it had become
a black hole the night before
as it ****** you out in.
Your bones like gravestones
prominent among the barren skin.

Did the suffocating dark matter
not ring louder
as you gasped for air with burnt lungs.

When you stood there overworked,
with signals mixed and sensitive
rewired and tangled
did the response fit their norm of you?

Did your voice not thud,
with the lump in your throat?
Did your heart not pound
against your ribcage,
your stomach not curdle
with that war in your chest,
as your mind raced
and your chest pressured as you tried
to clutch that breath?

Did your hormones
not muddle with your thoughts?
Did they not drown them in depths
and set them on fire all at once?
Did it not ache your muscles
before it all turned red?

Did your body not scream
when they came near?
Your feet cemented,
as your body froze?
Did your gut not twist
till you felt nauseous?

Did your toes not curl
when the feeling sunk
through your spine,
sat in your bones
like an unwanted guest,
and you like an unwilling host?

Did you not feel the chill
shiver down your spine
as terror spread across your face
and painted it white
before the quake came?

Did you not acknowledge
your body is the vessel
that you kept giving and pushing
depleting it of the right to rest
rather than opening
it to the abundance of love
it was surrounded by.

Your body became over extended,
your mind became forgetful
a body that is now a red flag;
travesty.