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 Mar 2017 Atoosa
Cait Harbs
It's all too much.

I don't know how to say it better
than saying it like that, because -

How do I wrap all the ends
of the universe
into a napkin
and pass it over to you
without spilling something?

How do I scoop the depths
of humanity's depravity
into an ice-cream
that won't melt
down the sides
or crack from the pressure?

How do I tell you
how terribly awful
it must be
to have to argue
with people
about whether
mutilating the genitals
of 5-8 year old children
is right or wrong?

How do I tell you
about the terror that seizes you
when you talk to someone you love
who honestly believes
that pigmentation,
geographical location,
religious affiliation,
****** orientation,
are reasons
to be killed,
beaten,
detained,
condemned?

How do I describe that
sickening feeling
that I feel
when I'm going about
my coffee-cup flavored,
pill-prescribed diet,
acting like the day is normal,
when I know:
people are being bombed,
sleeping on the streets,
set on fire,
beheaded,
******,
dying,
for doing
or being
the same things
I am going to do and be today
right after I finish my latte?

How do I live with that
knowledge
that girls are kidnapped
for going to school;
that four-year-olds
are holding assault rifles
when they should be
holding dolls;
that five-year-olds
are being trained as soldiers
when they should be
playing with toy soldiers;
that children
are giving birth to children;
that every 9 seconds
in the United States,
a woman is beaten
or *****;
that I have an iPhone
that can do a billion things
and there are
food riots in India,
that -

That I could keep writing
until my fingers were whittled
down to bone
and I wouldn't finish
that list?

How do I describe that,
all of that,
except by saying,

it's all too much?
 Mar 2017 Atoosa
sunprincess
We spin and dance and twirl
and he calls me his girl
Then he takes me by the hand
and lays me on the sand

Then carries me on his back
and says, "I love you"

sigh

And i laugh and laugh and laugh
when he tickles me blue
So i know it's true
xoxo
 Mar 2017 Atoosa
ryn
Wrung
 Mar 2017 Atoosa
ryn
A fistful of time...
Saw the doing and the undoing
of misguided hands.

A fistful of words...
Hurled in exchange,
like expended rounds that
drew more than they should.

A fistful of life...
Taken for granted
and traded in for
forgotten sands.

A fistful of heart...
Wrung dry by familiar digits...
Suffocating still...
Like I knew it would.
 Mar 2017 Atoosa
Nylee
She
 Mar 2017 Atoosa
Nylee
She
There are things she hide,
Even  from  herself.
She will not ask for help,
She has too much pride.

She will work harder,
she will do things more,
She'll not let other see,
Her problem is much bigger.

She will not say,
That she is tired,
She'll pretend normal
and join others anyway.

She want to not be dependent,
She want to make her own road,
She wants not others advice,
Just appreciation of her achievements.

She has many dreams to complete,
and many more left to see.
She wakes with the fire,
And she is ready to compete.

She has power, she has will
She has love, she has ambition
She is special, she is unique
She is the one who makes your life meaningful.
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