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 Mar 2018 jess
Tyler Lockwood
we wrote more poetry
in the wrinkles of your sheets
in one night than
I have written in the pages
of my journal all year
you don't know I have this account so I can vent here lol
 Nov 2017 jess
Austin Morrison
No.1 I have a fear of heights and I'm okay with that because I fall for you every day which keeps me close enough to the ground that I feel safe.

No.2 The dark. I do not like the inability to see, imagine being trapped in a space with no light, nothing to reach for but just a void of emptiness. You cannot find a place much darker than a blackened, hallowed heart. There are no signs of life, with no trace of light. Yet you still managed to find your way around it, walking aimlessly as if you knew where to go. I was afraid of the darkness within, until you lit a flame inside Of me, trying to send a signal fire to my sanity.

No.3 spiders, nothing poetic I just think they are creepy. Eight legs of hell and they have no need on my life!

No.4 I imagine being on an island stranded alone knowing no-one could find me, while I sit there huddle next to a tree with no reason to move forward. I feel a warm touch press on my shoulder. I open my eyes, everything seems different the white scattered sand is now my bed. waves which held me back from moving forward, now my blanket which seems to feel heavier than a tsunami of depression and deep thoughts. I lay there stuck being buried by the sand and drown by waves. Being held down by my past and worries of my future. two hands lifted all the weight off me, I looked up and there she was, she grabbed me by the...

No.5 my heart is beating faster and faster as I run an endless marathon. My palms get sweaty, it gets harder to breathe as if I was trapped in space with no air tank. I try to push through I will not let myself drop out of this one so early. I have a fear to love, not of love but to love. I want to find it but I'm too afraid of letting myself become vulnerable as if I'm joining a war with no gun just my heart hoping not to get shot down but be accepted with open arms. I have scars and battle wounds from past wars. But for no reason, you lent a hand to patch me up. You showed me not all wars are worth fighting Alone, so we joined hands and walked strong. I am afraid to love, I am not afraid to say I love. I am afraid to say I love anyone who isn't you.
Finished copy
 Nov 2017 jess
Maine Dela Cruz
my recent panic attacks must have alleviated
because even though
I still wake up in the middle of the night
I could finally put myself to sleep
after taking three pills of what they call
cradling me with its lullaby on my veins
as one by one
I count my frustrations
crawling towards me
hungry for attention
like an infant on its mother’s arms.

the sheets have been drier, blankets hotter
the pillows don’t talk too much
although some nights
I spend an hour
or so
listening to their exchange of
countless narratives and sometimes
futile perspectives
in rather hushed tones
it had come to me that these fluffs
must have resolved their trust issues
good for them.
 May 2017 jess
Alex McQuate
 May 2017 jess
Alex McQuate
It's Christmas time,
A young boy unwraps a large gift,
And sees the object inside,
It has a basic color scheme,
It's strings beautiful and bright.

The boy strums his small hand across,
Summoning sound from the hollow instrument,
It's a cheap thing,
Just in case the guitar is abandoned by the boy,
But alas a bond is formed,
And the boy's life is set into motion.
Act 1 Scene 1

This shall be the beginning of a project I've been thinking about for a while.
 May 2017 jess
 May 2017 jess
Do lady pieces dream electric dreams?
Do the men they chase cast electric shadows, while
They glance? Do they
Expect what they look into, shed longing
Like snakeskin and decide
They're not in love any more?
What's a life
When boiled down to a greeting,
And thinned out in the time spent together?
What flavour do her lips bring up?
Bitter desire? Electric dreams?
 May 2017 jess
Alex McQuate
 May 2017 jess
Alex McQuate
Take a breath,
A deep, lung filling breath,
And realize that you are one breath closer to the end of your time here on this planet.
To some there is a life after this,
At least I hope so,
And to others we are just an ember dying in the air,
Just a second or two of existence in the grand scheme of it all,
And all we have left to mark our time is by the deeds we've committed,
Our mark on history.

I had a dream,
Where I was on top of a mountain,
Staring at the sunset, and its effect on the shadows in the valley,
An older man was there,
We hadn't needed words,
For we already knew what the other had to say.
Don't know where this sprouted from.
The Mercy of the Living - Bear McCreary
 May 2017 jess
everlasting cherry
recently, I took a ****
in a metal torpedo
flushed, washed and
checked my hairdo
before siting down
in cranked A/C
Wi-Fi accessing
songs by-the-million
and got solicited
a mid-air cocktail

not long ago
people were dying
on the Oregon Trail
and I could probably DL
that old crApple game
right now - at 34,000 ft -
buy some oxen and ****
before I die of dysentery
while I go from DC to FL
in two ******* hours

you know one day
kids are gonna be playing
21st-century games
wildwildwest replaced with
archaic world wars and
monopolistic rat races
wondering what it was like
to jet through the clouds
when you couldn't just
hop in your portal
to get wherever

every last bit
of what we take for granted
would seem nothing short
of witchcraftical magic
to eyes from past

because somebody
imagined that ****
and made it

we are fingertips of God
spinning new worlds
on the threads of
our dreams

come spin
with me

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