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Atticus May 2017
Your pink mouth screaming at me to get out, my ragged breaths as I ran up the stairs.

Why oh why did God make me this way if I was a mistake?

My aching heart drags my heavy feet onward, the rain soaks my already numb body.

Why was I born this way?

The lit up building like a beacon, a smiling face a listening ear.

They tell me i'm not broken or weird, they tell me that I am normal and that there are others like me.

They are a samaritan on a dirt road that seems as if it will lead to nowhere, picking me up from the ditch that is my soul.

It's on the first day I meet them, just like me they too feel like they're  in the wrong shell.

I tell them that I am a snake wanting to shed my skin but the angry and hurtful words glue my skin onto my too loud skeleton like a cocoon.

They offer words of support and a welcome environment, they are like the family that I and many others never had.

It is after my first month there that I get a job, a job that can help me on my journey. It is also here that they call me by my true name.

My mind and body are making a peace treaty, an alliance of my sanity. I learn to love ‘me’.

No longer a he and now a she.

      I am finally free to be me.

           Love and faith are the keys.

               For I am finally free
Donielle Apr 2017
Like the car you dumped at the junk yard, you left me an empty shell of what I once was.

You grabbed your suitcase and emptied all of me into it as soon as you found a vessel more flashy to carry your soul.

My tires weren't brand new but my tread still hugged your road with great traction.

My speakers crackle with age but I still played your favorites at your request.

I have rust and some dents, but my glass was clear enough for you to see the path ahead.

I may idle rough, and my exhaust is loud when you test my pedals with force, but I could've gotten you where you wanted to go.

You partially lifted my decals, left the burnt-out air freshener dangling, dancing on the mirror, and the lighter you lost is still in my pocket.

But I have a full tank of gas and someone new's got the key.
Steve Page Apr 2017
Ghost or shell
Be sure it's all me
Raising hell
Go see the movie: Ghost in the shell
Jon Po Dom Apr 2017
Hi Syria,

How are you feeling today?
I've heard so much about you
How strong you are
Enduring six years of illness
And counting
Of how high spirited you've remained
Watching children play in the
Midst of turmoil;
Indiscriminate shelling
Heard of the many chemical baths
You've been subjected to
Assad believing you have
Cancerous cells
Needing to be exterminated
Not realizing HE is
The cancer and you;
You the victim
How I wish I could help you heal
From your trauma

Yet I heard an injection
Was given you today
With the hope
The chemical baths can end
Because it is killing you
Slowly rotting
Destroying your body
Taking away your beauty
The side effect of corruption
How beautiful you once were
How long will it take you to heal?
I wish for peace of mind
And a healthy future for you
Syria

From JM 4/7/17
A crab
squat fair
why amour
thick but
slender will
toe himself
in close
but rather
than let
go of
ties with
enzymes in
his heart
can pouch
egg with
a pinch
of salt.
tamia Dec 2016
i spent my childhood
with a conch shell in hand,
i'd be near the sea
even on land

for when i'd press
it to my ear
i'd hear the ocean
loud and clear

and that's when i realised:
i could have the world in my hands
if i believed enough
i could get to distant lands
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