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Ruby Tuck Nov 2
19
19
dictionaries stacked on the shelf near the blackboard
19
papers i have lying on my desk
19
thoughts inside my head
19
people sitting around me
19
threads lying lonely on the floor
19
pencils scratching
19
florescent lights bearing down upon my weary eyes
19.
i found the number 19 in the "words" section of the website and decided to write about my class. there are, in fact 19 people in my class, which is pretty cool.
Julian Caleb Nov 2
5
As a drenched, drowned bee
Hangs numb and heavy from a bending flower,
So clings to me
My baby, her brown hair brushed with wet tears
And laid against her cheek;
Her soft white legs hanging heavily over my arm
Swinging heavily to my movements as I walk.
My sleeping baby hangs upon my life,
Like a burden she hangs on me.
She has always seemed so light,
But now she is wet with tears and numb with pain
Even her floating hair sinks heavily,
Reaching downwards;
As the wings of a drenched, drowned bee
Are a heaviness, and a weariness.
I don’t want to be a, “Good Person”
Or rather,
Not if you have to tell me,
I’d rather die,
Then hear someone tell me I’m nice,
You’re so nice,
You’re a good guy,
Gratefully with twinges of gluttonous ego I accept,
In spite of myself,
Perhaps I’ve been groomed to act,
Act nice to be complimented,
Act as a good artisan to appease all.

Humans never cease to appall me,
With ways to be unwarrantedly wareful,
And secretly subconsciously submergent,
So I remain watchful of myself.
Blade Maiden Sep 29
Ah
it's cold
and I have a hard time
holding this pen
like I used to

So
I unfold
I'm convinced of my crime
hiding in my den
like I'm used to

And I've been holding on
dreaming, fading,
tired for so long
I remember your voice
Can I ever hold you
can I ever have the choice
I'm not used to

Why is it being so ******* me
how am I always wrong
when the voices tell me I'm free
but really all I want is to belong
Anything could be better
Nothing is the matter

It's alright
go back to sleep
it's just another lonely night
I'll feel better after I weep
til tomorrow
another gloom
wraps me in trivial sorrow,
For you I'll go catch the moon
your blanket looks warm, just tonight, can I borrow
If you don't need me, I promise I'll leave soon
I'm used to
I miss the smell of you in bed
I miss the way you kiss my head
I miss your hand on mine
I miss the way you‘d say I look fine
I miss your hugs and their encapsulating safety
I miss the way you made my mind act crazy
I miss our laughs and emotional talks
I miss the days we would go for short walks
I miss sitting with you in close proximity
I miss the way you looked at me in a certain vicinity
I miss your smile most of all
I miss your voice echoing down the hall
I miss your eyes and their gorgeous luster
I miss my inability to find words to muster
But I think about it now and I miss none of that
Instead I just think how I want you back
Because I don’t miss your worldly qualities
Instead I miss your quirky little oddities
Everything about you is beyond this existent
I’ve hit the point of full on admittance
I’m in love with your soul and your being
Of course I’m also in love, sweetheart, with what I’m seeing
But I want you for you and not what’s outside
The day you left me part of me died
I hope to see you again in my dreams
That’s all I have left now, so it seems
Kit Scott Sep 14
They say I should settle down
find myself a woman and have some kids
they wonder if the girl I saved
will be the one to tempt me with her kiss

They tell me to find a house
to stop my endless wandering
they tell me to stop drifting
it's my life I'm squandering

They claim the evil is gone
there's no need for me to fight
that I've won the war
for the side of light

They whisper that it's over now
and that I've lost my mind
running away from my home
going looking for fights

But I have a home no longer
no house to call my own
the war is over now
the king back on his throne

And so I, the weary hero
have no place any more
and so I will drift, listless
till they call me for the next war
There is adrenaline in my veins, but I am far too tired.
Internal winds that wail with might
A sudden outpour of downpour
Distress accelerating
Into regions physical and mental
Untangling its hair of horrors
So that miniature hells hail
And free will and free thought,
Take the brunt of the damage
Now paralysis is peppered over all
But with one sneeze vigor is awakened
So see all is interlinked
For natural disaster
And natural remedy
Are naturally destined to occur
Agony. seemingly everlasting, allows the muse to come and through the curls of her hair my fingers run.
everly Aug 11
my skin is peeling
you still bring up that i’d put glue on my hand
when you’d come over
and you’d put your hand out for a typical handshake
while i’d watch my hand harden
and then i’d rub it off till my hand turned red
while you’d just smirk and wonder why i was so unusual..

quirky you called it.

i was a weird kid
still am.

but im glad we grew up a lil bit.
cuz now i get to hold your hand
and sit close to you at parties without
your mom plopping a chair right in the middle.



still happens
Nat Lipstadt Jul 29
~weary weighted~

flummoxed are the sea watchers;
the long rhythms of sea change reveal only minor modesties,
difficult discerned are the tidal subtleties

though repetitive thrashing extracts it toll,
only the weary-weighted see the true meaning of the beating,
knowing full well,
it beats for them

recalling their early day’d fascination with its endless chaining,
now knowing all are similar
detained-chained,
and  the ******* churning but a cover up masque,
they need not longer conceal,
an unrevealed confess:

water is heavy-weighted, you cannot forever float,
constancy is of a thing to be wary,
its sadder longevity,
a chipping away erosion of wearing,
‘tis is the knelling noise of  sad respite,
an unlight lighthouse



~for Victoria, a year later~
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