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JAC Sep 2018
September snaps August to her knees
with a crisp breeze and the first drops
of orange on the one-coloured horizon

spring flowers outlive their welcome
while leaves begin being beaten down
by the cold wind of the end of summer

rain sweeps her hand through your hair
taking with her the sweetness of the sun
and leaving the cool hope and beauty of

shedding one's sunburned skin
in the cold wild of the end of summer.
y'ay'a Sep 2018
TOY
life is a game and it appears i am just a toy
one of the many play-pieces others use to their advantage
and when i grow useless
too tattered to be tossed around any longer
i am discarded
until i can mend myself again
make myself whole again
make myself useful again
wash, rinse, repent, repeat
Thinking Of You
y'ay'a Sep 2018
i'm left to wonder;
if i call your name again
will you answer me?

if i yell your name
will i be met with silence,
or will you appear?

if i cry your name
will you soothe me like before,
or leave me to weep?

if your name happens
to claw its way from my throat
will you make me tea?

to ease this soreness?
to rid me of this anguish?
will you add honey?
y'ay'a Sep 2018
but there is nothing left to write about
i’ve exhausted all the colorful ways to describe loss
smeared yellow paint in places it shouldn’t touch
to describe this most hollow feeling
that can only truthfully be painted grey
and i feel
that if i keep writing
i’ll run out of ways to say i’m hurting
run out of poetic ways to phrase my pain
run out of ways to detach myself from this reality
run out of time and place and keep
running
until i’ve run out of what i once thought was endless
y'ay'a Sep 2018
when you get a cut
and blood starts to pour from the injured area
can it be described as your life escaping you?
i feel in all the time i’ve spent breathing
i’ve spent most of it trying to bandage up
wounds that have nearly kept me from doing so
when in fact
there has been no purpose to this
no matter how i delay the process
the inevitable waits just around the corner
taunting
teasing
tantalizing
so maybe one day
i’ll grow too tired to replace these bandages
maybe one day
i’ll let the wounds run their natural course
and maybe one day
i’ll let life escape me without a fight
but until then
i’ll dress the wounds
one by one
and hold on to what i have
until what i have
becomes too much to hold
pri Sep 2018
have i ever told you how your music sounds
-on soft sunday september mornings?
my apologies.

i imagine the world wakes up,
and expects there to be soft frost on the windows.
in reality, the leaves have barely begun to turn sunset colored.

we play soft jazz, something like, and waltz around the room.
we wrap our hair above our heads,
watching it droop ever so slightly until it’s puff is silken soft and messy.

and wait, until it comes time to run to school,
in those sweaters and jackets, to feel so a part of life,
jumping and dancing on cold aluminum bleachers.

the strangest thing is that i feel so close to you
-we can become the girls of dances and games and skates,
highschool sweethearts.

idly, i wonder if this strange sunday september morning
has made me wonder this,
because the music that plays in my ears seems to say yes.

it’s an ode to these girls of legend, the ones we define our lives by,
come together to watch, and slowly,
dance to the music and twirl.

also, did i mention, it’s a little dark,
because those sun rays i used to so love have truly run out and become outdated,
and the music becomes slower and turns into bright friday night lights in the dark.
inspired by the brobecks (check them out!!) and the coming of fall.
Maxim Keyfman Sep 2018
day passed
I walked this day
slightly like a shadow
slightly like snow
walked by day i
I went through it

and it was raining today
small not big
but the wind was very blowing
very very large
and everything was spinning around
foliage in the trees
and everything around is somewhere
it raced like I did

early in the morning I got up
and looked out the window
and there september
september is burning
in the window
here are the new expensive
here are the new ways
after a strong strong
storm of black

08.09.18
Madison Sep 2018
If you don't mind it, love

I believe I must ask:

Why is it that

Even when Summer begins to die

This heat never seems to fade away, too?

Solstice is bleeding out in the streets every night

Those fallen leaves, shielding her body

And yet, here in September

I'm still drunk on that brand-new sunshine

That makes me want to lie down with you.

I wish you and I could find a cold place

A secret pathway into Autumn's sweetly perfumed arms

But, love, if that's not happening

Perhaps we should go where the sun shines brightest

And revel in a halo of blistering light.

Perhaps we could peel away

All the formality

Just to keep cool

Every layer of reserve

Long gone by the end of the day.

Of course

You'll see every imperfection

And I'll know it

But I won't mind

As long as each one gets attention from your fingertips.

I'll find Spring in your skin

And you'll taste Winter on my lips

And Summer and her fatal fever

Will be no match for us.

In fact, we'll barely feel her harsh kiss

Streaming through the window

Into our little room

Where everything feels just right.

So, if you don't mind it, love

I believe that you should follow me into this retreat

Where we can embrace this heatwave.
Why is it so hot on Labor Day?
Violet Bliss Sep 2018
September
You have arrived
Like unwanted memories
I still remember
September
You have arrived
Like sunny feelings
Don't last forever
September
You have arrived
Like lovers and friends
Can't wait for October
I. Hate. September.
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