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 Aug 2018 Helena
everly
and so i lay here
reminiscing about how beautiful
that evening was

the orangey-red scheme
and how it made your eyes look warmer
than usual
and as you spoke it hurt
but i was happy
knowing
that you were there
with me in that moment
and you
possibly
won’t forget me..






amor eterno
you’re such a lovely human
 Aug 2018 Helena
Cicero
I knew a girl who used poetry as a weapon.
Who broke hearts for fun, only to dip her pen in their blood and write lines in the sand.

I knew a girl who used poetry as a shield.
Who thought her words were justified if she dipped them in honey before she spoke.

I knew a girl who used poetry as a blindfold.
Who hid her betrayal behind selfless lines and artful lies.

And she called me her muse and I thought it a compliment when really it was a curse.
Because I knew a girl who only wrote poetry about broken hearts so she let me fall so she could watch me drop and describe the sound of my impact with honey-coated drizzle.

Because it’s my heart that was pen-dipped.
My ears that were darkened by honey-covered lies.
My eyes that were obscured by a blindfold of silk.

And when my blood dried and the sand was used up, she went for another boy.
A broken boy.

One she didn’t have to break to write her twisted lines.
 Aug 2018 Helena
Melissa S
Dream of me
I am real...
I am where smiles are made
and tears fade away
Where hope springs forth
Away from the darkness
of the earth

I am the glow of the moon
and all the stars in the sky
those who seek the light
shall have me as their guide

I am the red bird or butterfly you see
Just keep your eyes open... to find me
I am where tomorrow is coming
and hope always holds on
My darling
I am never truly gone....❤
I have been dreaming of my mother lately and do not want to wake up because it feels so real and I miss her so. I wrote this from her perspective writing to me
 Aug 2018 Helena
Verbatim Lynnie
He slipped too many times for it to be accidental,
Gurgling underwater; and sinking from the vessel.
He too, had supplied the deaths aboard the deck,
Where drowning and breath paddled; all atop his neck.
Do you know his struggle, until you've met the sea?
Where fish swim past on their way, and you clamber just to breathe.
Sputtering on bubbles, his exhaling's a crusade,
But please don't feel bad for him, that's just an average day-
All feedback is welcome and appreciate!!:)
 Aug 2018 Helena
Fumbletongue
So I wake up and as I'm stretching I notice in the mirror that my underwear matches my shirt.
Then I burst out laughing because I hear in my head "WOW you weren't even trying” and “Look they actually match! How did that happen?! That almost never happens" and knew today was a win before it even really started.
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