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These days the cold
doesn't seem so cold

I still feel it, but I 've learned
to enjoy the feeling
of cold air in my lungs,
punctuating the
drags on my cigarette

                    This time last year I
                    was trying to drink
                    myself to death

Now I drink to mock death, and I'm
                    sitting in the corner with a notebook
                    and a whiskey
                    listening to some country band play
                    songs from sixty years ago

While so many of my friends are quitting the drink-
I guess this business of dancing with death every night
isn't for everyone. . .

                                   But the morning keeps coming
                                   with bright lights to
                                   hurt our eyes and
                                   clear our mind

And we keep on with the same old dance
Round and round, you step left, I step right
and we joke about how nobody here
        really knows what they're doing

And we all just keep on dancing
 Jan 2013 Amanda Blomquist
Anon C
Finding in you
an antidote to mend my mangled being
collapse in sweet repose
a thought, girls tend to like gems
how is it then, you have remained unseen
in a mine have you hidden
or is the rest of the world blind
bah, no matter my scales cloud not mine eyes
for I found my cure
hidden or not
I discovered searching was not the answer
but waiting
and it came to me
My heads a mess
My thoughts repressed
From a weekend that I've spent with you
Although it is true
Sometimes I feel blue
I just want you to be part of my mess.
Further we drop

fruitless I whisper

The leaves hang in the balance, and drop

sure as the snow that might never come,

sure as the electricity which might never run

and blizzards are fun if you’ve never been in one;

I guess.

      —

So I am waiting for the grey area to dissipate and (separate)

because feeling one way or the other half the time doesn’t

help,

about anything.

Does that make

sense?

    —

Shelter my ****,

forgive my own self-loathing,

love like there’s nothing we’d rather do

(it’s true)

please only

be

and i will try

to be

as well,

(do you understand?)

    —

This mismatched magnet love words

tongue-strung-together

and with glue and

string,

and piece me back together like that puzzle

I told everyone I was when I was

12.



All those missing pieces, how

they

bite and blister,

glisten and glitter,

slither through cracks where I don’t expect to find them,

I am hoping for the black-and-white-life.

(It won’t, doesn’t exist.)

(There are

too many shadows,

and the time does tick

I guess.)

I guess I am waiting for an answer that I cannot find,

I question I don’t even know how to ask.

    —

Remember, remember,

in the stupor, in the wondrous

days of wasting away,

remember those were not the good days.

People live to find themselves whole,

and you tried to

disappear,

and how lovely and lonely

that never should have been,

and still never was.
Scars
Dark with time,
Hollowness around,
Self-inflicted was the intention?
Reasons beyond that were unwanted.
Why blame someone else?
It was your mistake.
Hence, your doing.
Misery? Pain?
Mere words to the world.
Cover ups can’t help,
For embedded underneath your skin,
Cold and heartless,
It creeps at your attention.
Eyes are drawn to it,
Questions raised of your sanity.
What do they know?
When you’ve died,
Over and over again,
Amongst the dark walls,
On the sea of tears,
Drowning, choking.
Eating you from within,
Reminding you of the days,
When death seem more favorable,
To breathing.
The shadows lurk behind the walls,
Those ears have heard everything,
Eyes have seen every laugh, every tear.
Shadows of times gone by,
Of yesterday, an eternity away.
They haunt, they mock.
They watch you,
In company they hide in the darkness,
Only to crawl to you,
When left alone.
Slowly taking over every cell,
Possessing is with the needles,
Turning your smile upside down,
Fists quenched, teeth at breaking point.
Nightmares take over your mind,
Despair takes over your soul,
Your heart loses its warmth,
You are left to its mercy.
And they never go,
Etched not only in your skin,
But also your soul,
It never leaves.
Yes, it’s bitter,
But you won’t know,
Unless you are scratched,
By life’s claws.
It will come for you,
Prey you down,
Swallow you whole,
Grip at your chest,
“Why?” you will ask,
When the answers are right in front of you,
Scarred.

— The End —