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 Feb 2013 T
VioletNova
I never thought
I would pine for the way
a heart...

could implode.

The falling together
The ****** laceration and
for the first time in my life
I realize that I'm
twitching from lack of sleep.

My pillow
shudders loud.

Remembering the note
I hold with intent
blaming myself for getting lost
inside this Polaroid.

Van Gogh furnished a eulogy
for the rant in the wake of
this scar that implants itself in the
palm of...

breathing.

Our ribcage could use a
little bloodshed.

We scream in flooding bloom.
 Feb 2013 T
VioletNova
We have always been bigger...
than stars.
The sky a stage
spoken intimacies
of velvet hearts
and ***** hands.

I wander the comet of
truth with moon-filled
eyes. Waiting, bow-shaped.

I couldn't help but notice
those constellations were
made for sin.

Stealing glances of
tightened skin too explosive
to retract.

Tiny pools of passing rain
drag an ellipsis around my tongue.

And from this side of Babel
light glares inside
sprouting roots.

Silver Cerulean Decembers
bundle themselves
winter by winter.

Cloaked by the tree,
a heaven of insistence and glass.

Words falling weightless-
sun bleached leaves
into palms of hands.

Glimmering abyss of
infinite ice, fractured bloodless
upon starless earth.

Saliva brushed shock
Alkaline flesh-
on napkins that
hold, what they
have forgotten.

Avoidable words
that keep us fed...
back to my chamber heart.

Every single time.
 Feb 2013 T
Glen Brunson
this is my impossibility:

that I may still smell you
from the crevice of my curve
while the moon laughs at my folly
     that I may still catch your laugh
     through cracks in the pavement

         this is the love of a patient
         who knows not his disease
         only the teething

this
is the difficulty
of breathing alone.
Awwwww...isn't the poor boy sad?
 Feb 2013 T
Maddie
I set out on a simple task.
Looked at the sun and started to ask.
"Can I change the world dear sun,
like you so often do?
Can I change the world I asked,
I want to shine like you."
The sun could see
She stared at me
And threw my question back.
"Can you change the world you said?
Is that what you asked?
My child you shine as bright as me
And with that mind, you have."
I hope this makes sense.
 Feb 2013 T
Whiskurz
The paper turns to crimson
As she writes with all her scars
Her quill becomes the poet's key
That unlocks her prison bars

With her prison doors wide open
She's free from all her pain
A prisoner of her past mistakes
That's left a lasting stain

Broken trust gave birth to grief
As she writes of her abuse
But everytime she tried to leave
He'd have another excuse

She tried her best to cover her bruises
After the beatings would start
But nothing could cover the pain she felt
From the break inside her heart

She found the strength to walk away
And leave the past behind
She writes each night to find her freedom
But it's truly hard to find
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