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Em MacKenzie Dec 2018
Tell me Pluto,
how does it feel
to be told you’re a planet for years
and then labelled as an accessory for our solar system?
But also, to be reassured, that although you’re small,
you’re just as good as the rest,
and endearingly enough,
someone’s favourite planet?

And while you sit on the outskirts,
in the far, vast, pitch black
edges of a far brighter galaxy than you,
do you marvel at the beauty and size
of every other planet judged more
legitimate and important than you,
and do you make friends with the microscopic stars?

You are told you aren’t what you are,
and you are what you aren’t,
I wouldn’t blame you for drifting further,
I think I would probably do the same.
But know some are very passionate
about your state in our galaxy,
many people believe you to be of importance;
whether it’s nostalgia, empathy or just fear of change.
Regardless, you have a small army
of people who are very vocal,
about your right to be alongside with all the other planets.

Just because you’re small
and not as visually appealing as the rest,
or because you’re pushed to the coldest, darkest regions of space, does not make you deserving of isolation.
Infact, it makes you more worthy of adoration.
For you Pluto, for all the hardships
and all the abandonment you have felt,
you have never told another planet they themselves,weren’t real,
and you’ve never drawn anyone close to you,
to suffer in your loneliness.
It made more sense in my thoughts. I’d label this one a fail for the message conveyed and the feelings translated.
Curtis Owens Oct 2018
It hurts to feel
but it’s so easy to not feel at all
Are those my options?
Forget feeling or facilitate pain
Live discontent
motivation spent.
I don’t know.
I just, don’t know.
please
Kristina Weeks Jul 2018
So what now love?
What is there left to do?
We’ve established that you love me and that I love you but look at us?
I believe that we both can see that there is no foreseeable we.
So what can we do?
Darling I may love you with every fiber every ounce of life in me but what is this for? All this effort scooping up my outpouring with a cup containing too many holes. My endless charade trying to salvage this lifeless hand that was never mine to hold.
Watch it all fall out.
Watch it all fall.

I feel like we’re on either side of a brick wall and all I have to dig to the other side are my nails. I’ll grind them down in my own futility, bleeding and blistered for an inkling of you.
I know I’m stuck. I know there’s no way.
So why do I try? I don’t want to lose either of you, but **** it’s going to happen.

You say to me.
You jokingly say that you need a girlfriend.
What a jab in the stomach.
You sunk that knife right into my chest and made me hold it as I wept.
Obviously you didn’t mean to but ****...

Of course I can’t get mad.
My platform to stand on is sinking sand and it’s swallowing me whole.
I have no right be upset.
I’m lucky I still have you.
But I know soon.
Soon my love I’ll be stumbling after you falling on the concrete, knees scraping as I try to reach for your hand.
But please.
Don’t turn back for me.
******* it what a ***** I’ve gotten myself into.

One day my darling.
One day.
You may say you love me baby but one day.
One day she will arrive. Like an angel on high becoming and fair. She will sing her siren’s song and entangle you in her yellow colored hair. She will sing a song just for you in a way I never could. Her smile will entice and entrance you and she will lead you away from me.

And I will remain.

I will sit, legs crossed and eyes blind with tears reaching for you with outstretched palm.
I will watch you recede to your watery grave with her because there I no way I could be selfish enough to pull you away and make you stay.
All I can do is beg the man with the numbers and spinning hands for a little bit longer with you. But he looks through me with apathetic eyes. Numb to my plight. He’s seen this all before darling and ,quite frankly, he is over it.
Jessica Jarvis Jun 2018
Hum, hum, hum along.
Sing with me (y)our favorite song.
Please listen close, for here, tonight,
You’ll find your comfort in my plight.

Hum, hum, hum along.
Sing if all the words are wrong,
But don’t delay, just hold on tight
And maybe we can sing them right.

Hum, hum, hum along
To every note, both short and long.
Erase your troubles from your sight,
And there it is: your soul’s delight.
6/10/18

As I was writing this, I was reminded of the song “Happy Working Song” from the movie Enchanted, followed by the remembersncs is “Whistle a Happy Tune” from the musical The King and I. I even recalled how the dwarves from Snow White and the Sevem Dwarves would whistle while they would work, as expressed through song. It really just got me thinking about the power of music, whether it be indulged in alone or with others. Even just a simple hum can pass the tedious time or aid in the fond rememberance of memories associated with that song. Whatever the circumstance is, I hope you find a song, your song or a song to share with somebody, and I encourage you to hum... It’s pretty cool!
Ar Bazian Feb 2018
A world suspended in demotion
Devolution devours all entity and creation
The entirety of existence,
Reduced to the mere ridicule of trivial things alike.

Much is at stake, and yet nothing.
A staleness of fire-like flare,
Stranded in demise.

Endless plight, and compromise…

And I wonder what begins my day.
How I summon the power to stay,
O’, and how we endure decay.

Now, the music we knew devours the sun,
The outro of all this begun...

Meanwhile,
Underneath the waters stream,
Many a restless dream,
Hung, distorted and bereaved,
On the fumes of a memory.

Meanwhile,
Underneath the waters stream,
Many a restless dream,
Hung, distorted and bereaved,
On the fumes of a memory.

The world is gathered in breath,
And soon a day will dawn.
When everything else is gone,
When the willows awake,
Daylight shall break,
Over the vacancy that bonds the ends of you and I,
Beyond the reach of things unknown,
Beyond the endlessness,
Alone.
Abandoned in the corner of the street
my very existence was born this way
a small child without a ray of hope
no light, they were all gloomy days.

Aging, a slow and painful process
a life with no friends or foes
shunned by society in all my forms
before me, even pity takes a bow.

Blamed for all the sins I kept
punished for all the things I did
too cruel, it was my reality
rage, it's hard to keep it under the lid.

I did not choose to be this way
it how the people shaped me, that matters
a monster, a killer, that's what they call me now
they say everywhere I go I bring disaster.

Why must I keep revenge out of reach?
Why must I be the one to take the blame?
When I sought happiness, you taught me hate
I was your creation, have you no shame?

The blade now turns to you with a glint
crimson, just like my tears once were
had you paid attention, had you any love
I wouldn't have turned out like this, I'm sure.

You sowed the seed of hate in me
You shall reap the anger that grew
You Abandoned Me In The Corner Of The Street
Now with your blood, I shall be anew.
Maine Dela Cruz Dec 2017
Forgetting is an act of human will
An animal does not forget the scent of a blood trail
Nor the track of lightning through the trees
It’s the smell of survival
The sound of another day existing.
What is thicker than water
But the blood of our brothers and sisters
Who had forgotten too soon how
We were weaved into a common thread?
The bloodline we shared, forgotten, taken in vain
They have conquered from us the land of our ancestors
Centuries old, stories left untold
They shoved the life out of us
Leaving us indelible marks of shame.

Forgetting is an act of human will
But we have not forgotten how to blame
So we blamed the gods,
We blamed our fathers and the fathers of their fathers
We blamed the books
We blamed the espresso machine
We blamed all that was to blame
We blamed because we were helpless.

Forgetting is an act of human will
But we remember. We do remember how we spoke
To faces with perfect set of teeth
They showed us the rooms of dark wood floors
They stood on the doorway. They moved when our
Eyes passed them. Showing us one corner
Like every other corner.
They showed us how to turn on the water,
Where the light switches are,
Which door would lead to another.
They took our money. They smiled.
“Here is my face,” they always said.
Some hollow, some swollen, some sagging
Flesh and bones. “You will know me by this face.”

Forgetting is an act of human will
But we remember how we mastered the language
Of the wild
A jungle with no trees, they call it “metropolis”
Where streetlamps shone brighter than the stars,
Where shadows aren’t made of animals
Meant for bedtime stories
Where men’s faces, pink and stained
With camouflage, shined with the sweat of the hunt
Their dogs knew us by our accents
The plight wasn’t over after all.

Forgetting is an act of human will
But we chose to remember
We’ll never forget.
"Promdi" is a Filipino slang word derived from the English phrase “from the” which is short for “from the province.”
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