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 Aug 2015 Maria
Michelle
Did you ever hear the tale of the loneliest cigarette?
Bringing short term pleasure to just one man, while simultaneously burning herself away into oblivion, she is selfless.
He'll soon kick her to the kerb and stamp out her embers which she offered to him because it's what she thought he wanted.
When she is gone, he will take another.
*And she will be useless. Lifeless. Unwanted. Replaceable.
 Aug 2015 Maria
Aenya Paine Fike
Dear Reader,

Run.
Run as fast as you can.
Run till you feel like you'll fall off the face of the Earth.
But,
By now you should have learned that you'll never escape me.

Yours Truly,
*The Past~
 Aug 2015 Maria
cyanide skies
I looked for a good morning
under a sky that didn't feel right
the meteor showers can't end
just because night has
and daylight has broken
broken out
of the chrysanthemum cage
the starry starry night
had put in place
and when my good morning eclipsed
into a wilted noon
I decided to wait
wait out the day
and it slipped right by me
so I looked for a good night
and the night wasn't
as starry starry
as it had been before
but the meteors were still there
awaiting my delicate eyes
and when I saw the trail of fire
I knew I'd receive
a beautiful good morning.
**
 Aug 2015 Maria
Nicole Dawn
If I were a state of matter
The element I would be
Is water

The state I would be in
Is gaseous

Why?

It's because
Ice is beautiful
And useful

Water
As a liquid
Is natural
It's calm
And beautiful

But water vapor
It's invisible
No one cares about it
And while you can't see
You can feel it
You can feel the way it
Presses down on you
When it's hot out
No one likes humid days
No one likes water vapor

Water vapor
Does not belong
It's supposed to be a liquid
It does not fit in

And also,
It's molecules
Run away from eachother
Just as I
Run away from myself

If I were a state of matter
I would be water
In its gaseous state
Tired...
Inspired by a conversation with a friend
Comment what state you would be in
 Aug 2015 Maria
cyanide skies
"There's an art to it."
She says as she
flicks the end
of her cigarette
into the dirt.
"To what?"
She sighs,
grinding the cigarette
into the ground
with the heel
of her shoe.
"Destroying yourself."
and he never stopped her.
 Aug 2015 Maria
cyanide skies
she smelled like clementines
the year the winter became floral
and when the springtime cropped
up skeletons of flowers
she couldn't use her imagination and
they told her it was fine they
told her that was that
and this was this
and it was time for the winter
to stop blooming
who had ever heard of a floral winter, anyway?
so she packed away those
ideas of flight
and the winters became poison ivy
winding, wrapping themselves
spineless but wicked
around and around until they rested there
right there in her chest
choking her heart.
**
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