It was early July when I kissed my father Daedalus goodbye.

She burned so extravagantly under the stars.

I soared through soggy summer air.

All the while the love in her faded.

My fall into autumn was triumphant.

Diana Y 4d

I feel powerful.
I feel compelling.
I feel forceful.

Like everyday
Every night
Every tear I've ever shed

Made me stronger.

lily Nov 8

i want you
to change your ways
without change there is no challenge
without challenge there is no point
without you there no reason
without you i'm not whole


is a confiding smile
that reaches from
deep within the heart
An outstretched hand
up and out
to give a life forsaken
a new start

To seek and search
far beyond
and glimpse
a brightly shining path
Yet then to look behind
and back again
to be assured that all
will know the way

is a knowing look
a glance from eye to eye
A slight inflection
of radiant joy
in the tenor of a sigh

The quietly warm
and whispered word
with a gentle breeze of hope

Revolution is a beautifully
harmonious triumphant tune
that just won't leave
you alone





In the heart of the fire a temple burns higher
Call me a liar
Do you believe the same as they deceive?
Instinct over spirit recieved
bested by the animalistic quality to falter from taking charge of the fallacy or to clear a path for the bard that beckons to be more than an aspect of frivolity
diminished by ecclesiastical polity
Thine ego spreads like a weed among the flowers growing faster with an unquenchable thirst for power devoted to consumption and the benefit of itself til sour and nothing else
Thus creating an afterimage that resembles all that we desire with all that we pretend to be
Half the ecstasy wired, that we could actually free higher from what comes naturally, divine to masters who wield compassion and invulnerable humility
as a weapon of civility
Surpass the masses' ability
Grasp the clasp of immortal nobility
Endire and outlast the harassment willingly to channel all the blessings of grace it will carry thee


the cupboard held many things.
the large cabinet sat to the right of drawers full of mystery, climbing the left side and bottom, just big enough to hold small things like paper and office supplies. but it did not hold what most people deemed regular.
the knobs were made of something out of a dream. candy like almost- no,
candy glass. and they paired very well with the midnight brown wood of the cupboard sat in front of them.
the top left drawer held small things. coins and sewing string. the wonderful jingle of coins and the comforting touch of silky yarn drew in the curious searcher. nothing much else sat in this drawer.
the middle one was more unusual than the previous. holding small trophies and metals, why, there were so many! how did they all fit in the shallow drawer? all of them for different things: sports, pie eating, spelling bees, you name it. but the names on the awards were all scratched out. who would do such a thing?
the bottom drawer was sure to hold more promising items. squaring down they open the drawer to find a puzzle. a puzzle with a few pieces missing, but a puzzle none the less. it looked like it was put together right in the drawer, years ago, as the jigsaw was covered in dust. as they try to wipe away the dust, it appears they cannot. the puzzle has no picture, it is merely a grey puzzle, completely grey. how boring! and not even completed! they shut the drawer in confusion and move on.
finally it was time. time for the cabinet. once more the glassy knobs call to them as they open it to see what treasure awaited them. a look of wonder smiles back at them as they open the cabinet, then it drops. a mirror. they were looking at their own reflection! out of all the things it could have been! they turn away from the cupboard, betrayed and upset, and when they turn to look back at it, the
mirror. what was wrong with the mirror? they weren't putting on that face were they? it smiled too wide, and a look of mania shook through the eyes of their reflection. a knife. where? oh wait, no! the smile only grew as the reflection drove a knife into its own neck, velvet blood flowing out as their eyes turned to black, but it felt like staring into the sun. quickly, they slam the door, horrified of what they've seen: their own body mutilated. it felt like something was dying in their chest. but only because it was. a hole sat in their chest where their heart used to sit. it hurt. not much, but it felt like something was leaking out of them. and as they look to find their heart, the realize that it's gone.
quickly and desperately they scour the drawers.
the bottom drawer was first. maybe it was sat on top of the puzzle or the puzzle would give a clue. it didn't matter the reasoning, the drawer was already open and nearly empty except for the missing pieces from before. just as dreadfully grey as the rest of the puzzle. suddenly, the memory leaks out of them. confusion rains down on them as they try to remember where they are, what they're doing, why their chest hurts. the puzzle pieces are no longer grey, but red from the blood pouring out of their chest. why are they bleeding? what are these jigsaw pieces doing here? as they lift it up the red and grey mix, becoming a flesh color, the same as their skin. the pieces fly up and clamp against the hole in their chest, trying to crawl inside. then it clicks, their heart! they kick the drawer shut and the pieces scour across the floor with the deep red of blood, lifelessly. they needed to keep searching! what was the next drawer? ah yes, the middle one!
they always hesitate on the middle drawer. and they hesitate, because they forget what is sat in it. but they think it can't be worse than the last one, right? how foolish they were. they look down and open the drawer and as they see the faux gold and stiff red ribbon they remember. awards. they forgot the awards. suddenly metals of all kind, old and new, bronze and gold, spring up and latch around the throats of their unsuspecting victims. weighing them down as they're choked endlessly. they fall the their knees and the cupboard seems to grow a hundred feet. oh if only they could reach the drawer to shut it! panic runs through their body and the floor sways beneath them, the achievements of others dragging them closer to death and failure, when suddenly the drawer shuts. the metals around their neck (now dented and dirty) limply release their grip on their neck as they realize, it was their hand that shut the drawer. it still sat their, burning with grief as they realize, they shut down someone else's achievements. they rub their hands to try to shake off the regret, lingering in their mouth and hands. or was that the metallic taste of blood? when did they start bleeding? then, they get an urge. it pushes them up, up to where the top left drawer is. everything inside them says no, but the regret and pain in their finger tips needs to know what's in the last drawer, needs to feel more pain to replace the guilt. more pain than was already emitting from the hole in their chest and their bleeding hands. more.
as they desperately reach inside the top left drawer again for anything lovely at all, they're left with nothing but pain. as the sewing needles prick at their fingertips so too does the feeling of greed. the feeling to need money. the elegant cupboard seemed to whisper, "money is everything, you are nothing without money. money is everything, you are nothing without money." over and over again. and in horrifying agony they close the last drawer, the last of they wonder that once filled their body: drained. they step back from the cupboard and it's viscous ways. and glance at the handles again. the very knobs that lured them in.
then, they realized the knobs were not candy like, but more similar to the glazed eye of a man found dead, or of an abusive father, drunk again. they were cold to the touch like the abuse of a mother and spat acid that burned like the tears falling down their face as they realized, the tears were real.
they close the drawers and release their hands in horror as they vow to never touch those nightmarish handles again, running away in fear to realize, they never found their heart. their run turns into a stumble until the suddenly slump over against a wall. the only thing they can think about is the pain, the tears, the cupboard, the drawers, the cabinet, their reflection. and just like that, they're gone.

Helen Raymond Apr 13

I know I’ve been away
For a little while
I’d like to tell myself to bring it back
But let me stay a little bit unconquerable
A little piece of me, a piece of you
All tangled up and hidden away
Quiet ascendance  
Finding what my former self had tangled up
In savage, bitter knots of
Doubt and fear
Unraveled now by the acceptance
Sweet ascendance
Leaving me naked now in my reflections
But the less I hide, the less you see
And the more I come to relish in that victory

You gave me a scare today
That guy threatening you was not okay
You did not deserve to be treated that way
I tried to stand up for you
But the bastard threatened me too
I'm glad we were able to leave
Before he was able to do what he wanted to achieve
I hate him for how he made you feel
If he wasn't a modder I'd kill kill kill
Thankfully I was able to talk you through it
And we are going to forget about that piece of shit
You and I, Hannah and Ben
We won't think of him, never again.

A guy in the game my girlfriend and I play threatened to boot her offline just because she tried to defend herself from him smack talking her and when I tried to stand-up for her he threatened me too.  So we left and she messaged me saying that she doesn't deserve to live so I told her I was going to invite her to a party and a game to cheer her up and I did. I was able to bring back her joy.
Ines Rose May 30

Blood on the ground
I need to rebound

Blood I remember
Frozen in December

Blood on the street
Don't let this repeat

Blood on my knee
I miss the old me

Blood has gone dry
There's no need to cry

Blood has turned blue
Reborn, I'm brand new

A comparison between scrapes and mistakes (made in life)

An Apollonian
will dehydrate
swamp in
petri dish
if platitude
shall inhibit
crab to
crack shell
ramble in
vicissitude that
anymore is
congenial with
genesis rational
in mode
with a
seance inhabit
extreme viability.

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