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Rhoemeoh May 25
I can barely remember the year I fell in love
with love. She took me everywhere I wanted to go
and home was wherever she was.

I have detailed memories of when Love, fell
out of love with me. I sat in shock as she dropped
me off at my home. Who knew home could feel
like nowhere at all?
Written 4-24-2018
Memories that I still haven't forgotten.
Emily M May 7
Wondering
What to do
Lost in the waves
Of uncertainty
And confusion
Thrashing around me
Tossing me to and fro
Like the kelp in the ocean
During a tempest.

- Emily M
May 7th, 2019
Nava May 5
Unplug yourself and feel.
YOU are the current,
Something of an eel.
With your own sharp deterrent 
To all those things you hate.
Don't complain.
Be the change.
Don't wait.
Let my old wounds be a warning
Shock your pain.
Do something different tomorrow morning.
smc Apr 26
White-knuckled workhorse
twelve hours
of withdrawal
from his warmth

Twenty-five minutes
and fifty-five dollars
his favorites
boxed and bagged
courtesy of
her credit card

Stagnant
lemmings
for miles
liquid bullets
ping plop
squeak swipe

Alabaster autobahn
gravel mud
sling scrape
screech lock
puddle jump
buoyant beam

vacuum sealed denim
scrapes concrete
footprint freedom

sop flap
door squeak

whiplash
icy flames lick leap
north south east west

acrid burnt air
HCl has defied gravity

emetophobe
descent to hell

two styrofoam boxes
single slice
shrink wrapped
surprise
to share

gut churns

salt droplets
trickle fire
scalp to soles

rodent gnaws
punctures this time
she swats it away
defending denial

Eggshells crack
sticky eyelids
unhinge
dilated gaping chasm

Feet bash linoleum.
Blurred limbs hurl

dissociation
subconscious sanctuary

whir
thud
barn dust
ruby splotches
percolate
porcelain décolletage

burning numb
grasp lift stuff
shuffle sprint  
wince

stagger
wobble
curses slur
face plant

pocket purges
orange cylinder
ping bounce roll
Halt.
hollow
label-side up
opioids. and that was all.
Sometimes it takes distance to bring fury.
The way my mother boils thinking back to what my father said to his children
     When we still were children
     And she hid behind a glass of wine and solemnity.
There's a quavering fire in her voice now when we talk about his **** fits
     replacing her quavering smallness from then.

When a lanky café singer
     who loved Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds
Stole my breath
     … and something small and soft and white from me in a Monterey
     Monterey parking lot
I cried
I hid
I scrubbed
But you had better believe
     Now?
I burn.
It wasn't my fault his hands were warped and crusted with filth.
His touching me
     did NOT make me filthy.

When the curly haired beauty
     with his biting, crinkling, smiling eyes
     that flash above his mischief mouth
Poured all his sweetness onto me
     Just to have me shocked at the bruises
     Purple and green and sudden on the heels of his softness ,
I was lost and confused
     and blamed myself for his
     swaddle-****** blows
But
I found my brimstone, hours later
     Lapping at my lips after a cardboard confrontation
Just because you have a vulnerable heart
     doesn't mean you have to be a coward.
Clearly.

     Just look at me.
Evan Stephens Mar 11
Did she end it?
As I'm thinking,
a weight
of night
slips into me.

I don't know
where I stand,
exactly, but
at least
I don't leave

wanting to drink
this old grief
in gulps that
leave no room
for air,

like those
other times.
No one answers
my texts.
What did

those words mean?
The driver
talks on
about the night,
but has no idea

that I'm in
his backseat
eating the night
and dying.
Yes I know

I'm difficult,
is that what
happened?
Is that
what happened?
Nohémie Mar 7
you made flowers grow in my lungs
and left without warning me that they
would grow in your absence and
now, you look at me strangely
as I choke on the remains of
what you planted.
I saw the words flowers and lungs and I got inspired.
Much love,
Nohémie.
Pourquoi ça m’a arriver?
Pourquoi j’ai reçu cette Miracle?
Pourquoi pas les autres?
Pourquoi pas quelqu’un d’autre?
Pourquoi moi?

Il y’a des gens beaucoup plus important que moi:
Des enfants,
Des mères,
Des pères,
Je ne suis personne.
Ça devrait être quelqu’un d’autre:
Le petit garçon qui cri pour ça mère chaque nuit,
L’homme qui devient juste être père,
Le Grand-père qui a tout ça famille entouré de lui,
Pourquoi moi et pas eux?
Je ne le comprend pas!

Je ne peux pas exprimer comment je suis heureux,
Mais au même temps triste pour les autres.
Je veux reconstruire ma vie.
Chaque jours est important,
Alors je ne veux pas les gaspiller.
Je vais les utiliser pour faire du bien.
Je ne sais pas comment encore,
Mais maintenant c’est ma seul objective de vie.
Je ne veux pas que ça soit pour rien.

By
Coco 07
Miracles are a huge blessing but can also be hard to accept.
Les miracles sont incroyable mais ça peut être  dure à les accepter.
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