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 Mar 2015
Isabelle Perla
I think we get attatched
and we need something to coax us off of love
We go from heartbreak to happiness
Only because without it, our hearts would give up
Our minds wouldn't think straight
Our mouths couldn't utter words
We are not living unless we are constantly fearing the loss of another.
 Mar 2015
Kwanele
The hypersomniac that could not sleeping staring into an abyss . 
Staring at the darkness trying to figure out where it all went. 
The hypersomniac  thought of you. 
Thoughts of you, kept her alive rather than just of existence. 
Thoughts, imagery, emotions ; you. 
The hypersomniac. 
 My hypersomniac that could not sleep. 
Staring into my eyes. 
My eyes, the void, seeing something of worth, a gem. 
My hypersomniac saw me. 
my hypersomniac, i love her. 
my hands; her cradle. 
rock-a-bye baby. 
 I will put you to sleep.
 I will keep your heart at bay, at ease. 
I will hold you. 
I will love you.
Hypersomniac that couldn't sleep.
 Mar 2015
NeroameeAlucard
The streets are talking
but you're too dumb to listen
every sidewalk has a story
but not all of them are written
like that guy begging outside Walgreens
he was once an army lieutenant until
he was ******* over by mental disease
she used to be a doctor,
now she always works nights
letting people inside for money for her kids
so don't judge anybody on sight
Never judge what you don't know
 Mar 2015
Terry Collett
There is light
Ingrid sees
through curtains

of her room
as she lays
in her bed

she hears rows
raised voices
her father

bellowing
her brother
answering

her mother
crying out
Ingrid bites

at her lip
what's up now?
She wonders

sitting up
anxiously
her brother

shouting back
her father
barking words

she gets up
out of bed
listens out

at the door
of her room
don't go Tom

please don't go
her mother
pleads loudly

to her son
a door slams
then silence

whimpering
is then heard
her mother

in the hall
her father
swearing loud

which echo
in Ingrid's
ears and mind

she creeps back
to her bed
snuggles down

like a mole
under brown
thick blankets

hopes to God
her father
won't come in

taking it out
on young she
his daughter

but she knows
usually
that he does

she just waits
laying there
in her bed

for the harsh
bitter hurtful
bee-like buzz.
A GIRL IN LONDON IN 1950S.
 Mar 2015
DaSH the Hopeful
Slender slippery shadows slither straight at my figure
Memories that come with weight I try not to remember
          This gallows consists of tightwires and tighter knots
Thinking of a way out is bait
Doubt outweighs triumph on a daily basis
    Attention is called to failures while *success dies from budget cuts too deep to bandage

           Being broke and broken you incure a lot of damage and debt
        Ruined plans and regret
And learn to love when the rope holds tight around your neck
     Stability of any sort is necessary
     When the drop is so **** scary

        *Hell is just a phone call away
               And they have a billion ******* receptionists ready to rapidly redirect your call

    A donation of one ****** soul can get you a sidewalk all the way to Hell's blackened gates
     Either way you arrive sleep deprived
    *Nightmares of reality plant seeds deep inside

Creating sleepless nights
And I seek advice in low places
    Because I'm scared of heights
I fail to recognize the irony

  The noose is too tight
I'm so far above the ground
    I don't think the drop would bother me anymore
 Mar 2015
Bruised Orange
You are not my children,
tender as you are.
You are not my lover,
though you cause my heart to yearn.
You are not my sun,
or my moon,
or my star.

I set you on this rock;
you will not make me burn.

You are simply sticks,
arranged upon the pyre.
You are clever tricks,
though you flaunt my clear desire.
You are not the match,
or the wick,
or the fire.

I set you on this rock;
To see what might transpire.

You will never be a pheasant's egg to be coddled.
You are only this: a calf led to the slaughter.
A poem addressed to my poems, in the midst of the dreaded poetry workshop, where my lovelies are torn to shreds.  An attempt to maintain distance, for the sake of learning.  It's hard.
 Mar 2015
Rare but Relevant
I am 17
An average teen age girl
I hangout with friends
and I'm dating a football player

Just like any other 17 year old
I have a cell phone
And yes I jump up and down
Every time I get a new follower
On any social site I have an account on

And just like any other 17 year old
I forgot the meaning of life
In fact I don't think I knew life had a meaning

I was born into a life filled with four things
Greediness
Technology  
Money
And Selfishness

In this life
That I was so unfortunately born into
We pay more attention to a new tweet
Than to the loving man whom created us

In this life
We worry more about a new instagram follower
Than too a mother dyeing with cancer
And instead of reading the word of God to a dyeing mother
We check to see if we have a new snapchat

In this life
People call themselves Christians
And they don't even go to church

Open your eyes
Do you see that darkness surrounding your life?
Turn that to light
Read the Bible
Instead of twitter
Keep up with our creator
Instead of a follower
 Mar 2015
Cellar D'or
You were killed at 7:31 a.m, July 6th 1915 at the Battle of the Somme
One minute after the execution of your regiment to charge towards
The furious glare of sunlight
The thunder of sentries
Firing bolts of metal
To crash, break and rip everyone around you
Trampling, clambering over each other
Bloodcurdling yells stopped by their choking
Stamped out by the whizzing hail of bullets
And no time to accept fate in the suicide mission
As your mind is punctured by the enemy
And fragments of your skull bristles the red hill
Splashed of your blood which pumped the heart
That cared for so many, now exposed as mortar fire
Shreds through your cavity and dismembers
The broken dreams and broken limbs
You once had.

You were remembered by the dwindling few
Of who you were back home, before the draft.
How many were killed, how little they know
That you truly died as you said your Goodbyes.
 Mar 2015
Cellar D'or
Parallel, aligned and set
Together, in vivo, they met
In shadows, spines slumped
One bemused, one dumped
Apart, in this company, til death.
Inspiration from a painting by Edgar Degas. (The poem was written in November 2013)
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