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Lilly Gibbons Jan 2015
What** are we, but you and them,
And us as one that we became.
What, if any, can we say,
Did teach us difference everyday?
Who are you, telling me,
What and who that I should be.
But him and her and all of us.
It is not in me but many you trust.
What have i, have you or them?
Who was it that said just be the same?
If they and you do decide,
I will no longer choose to abide.
Who am I? Not just you or them,
There is another that I have become.
Shruti Atri Dec 2014
We walk around in solitude,
And stand by ourselves.
Our eyes see each other:
Flesh, and flesh alone is what we see,
It's what we seek.


We want the outer shell.
The soul is just an addition on the inside;
A thing hidden from the world,
That's not to be considered:
Just ignored and suppressed.

We're dominated in our minds,
We're slaves of the likes and the trends,
We want to be who they see us as,
But they, but we, but everybody can only see the flesh;
And that is what we seek.

We won't believe in what can't be seen.
We've grown to forsake the lurking monsters,
They were banished by rationality;
And when our conscience raises it's head,
It's just ignored and oppressed.

We've turned into Automatons;
Mannequins, who can style themselves.
The soul, hidden inside,
Is something that can't be seen,
And so, it isn't considered, isn't wanted;
Only flesh is what we seek.

While our soul shrivels up, decayed and decrypt,
Our flesh, we keep intact.
We swallow the infernal ache,
And plaster the cracks on our smiling face--
And the cries of our soul, we keep repressed.

*For, we care for what they see.
They can only see the flesh,
And flesh is what they seek.
Meg B Nov 2014
Sometimes after I've
Had a drink or two,
Or a few more,
I convince myself that I can
Find what I want
In the superficial distractions,
Building my ego in faked conversations,
Pretending to be the careless girl
I've never really been able to be,
But pass me one more beer
So I can text every other
Y-chromosome in my phone
And pretend the meaningless
Exchange of dialogue
Even minimally replaces the gross
Urge I repress
To send you the stifled sonnets
That lay dormant at the pit of
My suppression.
Place your turmoil
Into a narrow, empty container,
Grab a lid and seal it shut,
Let it remain there indefinitely,
And then think nothing of it
As an amnesiac would do.

4/22/14

(c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
Ellie Wasmund Aug 2014
each
thought
brings
a new
tear.

to yet again,
silently stain my face
and leave behind nothing
but more thoughts.

No proof
No evidence
No one will know.
January 22, 2014
Elixa Greene May 2014
You hear glass breaking, and think nothing of it.
You hear a scream, a shout, and ignore it.
Build a brick wall around myself, but you don’t question it.
No longer smile or laugh, but do you ask why?
All the signs are there, but you never notice.

I want to be like a butterfly.
You won’t break my wings, just because you try.
I want to be like a butterfly.
Emerge from my cocoon, ready to fly.
I want to be like a butterfly.
Laugh until I’m ready to cry.
There will never be enough sky,
to fill me up and take me down.
I’ll always be ready, to be a butterfly.
Anonymous Apr 2014
The dying
The dead
The forgotten
The unlived dreams.

She was 12
He was 8
They trailed west
But just became meat
One *****, beaten, ***** and ate
The other just ate.

Shaved memories of something
Something said by somebody
Oh, a little girl
Said the sun would whirl
And the moon would bow
Means nothing to a dead and cooked cow.

They make concentric circles
In and out
The Taliban
Spreading goodness wherever they go...
Just after eating
A little boy and girl.

— The End —