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 Feb 2019 Cindy Long
Sehar Bajwa
you were the treasure
   at the end of the rainbow.
      The rainbow dispelling hope after the storm.
            The storm that quenched the drought.
               the drought that birthed the thirst.
                  The thirst that craved a companion.
                     The companion who led the way.
                        The way that never was.
 Feb 2019 Cindy Long
Ruheen
I tried speaking to you today.
You were right next to me,
But you weren't listening.
Its not like you ever do anyway.
No one ever listens.
...
 Feb 2019 Cindy Long
Maddie Fay
imagine
you: fire
and me: arsonist

i mean,
i think you're hot.
i mean,
i know how to get you going,
but i would never claim to be the boss of you,
i mean,
i marvel at your power.
i mean,
i don't mind if you scorch my eyebrows,
i wanna smell you when i take my hair down.

sometimes,
we bring out the worst in each other,
i mean,
always,
we bring out the most in each other.
we run the gamut from
criminals
to revolutionaries
but we are best
when we are both.

imagine
me: ice cream,
and you: spoon,
i mean i wanna fill you up,
i mean you make me melt,
i mean
sometimes the sweet things
are simple.

imagine me museum,
all history and velvet ropes,
imagine you scholar,
head full of context and hands in your pockets,
harmonious reciprocity.

imagine this a love song,
me Billy Joel
and you,
Uptown Girl,
imagine the miles stretched out between us crumpled away like two ends of a paper ball,
imagine you road trip
and me apology
imagine us
in some hot town that knows us,
with hair that smells like smoke and matches in our pockets.
For 5 months I’ve clung to
The ragged edge
Of what once was the
Fabric of my life.

For 21 weeks I’ve pretended
That everything is fine
And I can be successful
In this new endeavor.

For 150 days I’ve battled
The faceless gremlins
That haunt my every step
With neverending failure.

For 36 hundred hours I’ve
Made it be OK
To be without the back bone
Of my existance.

216 thousand minutes
Have brought me to this moment
When I finally say I’ve had enough
And turn out all the lights.
ljm

That’s a billion, 246 million seconds.
The depression seems to come and go with the weather.
The compulsion to count is one aspect of OCD.
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