laura-jessica

Feb 2018

Alessia

Their Pretty girls on the moon
They don't pick flowers on their way home
They pick the pieces of their broken heart off the floor
They put on masks to cover their tear stained cheeks
And long sleeves to cover their scars

There stuck on the moon but really want to see more
Looking out the moon the only thing they see is Mars
Sky as empty as the tales they were promised
Their mothers kisses lipstick stains on their foreheads
And their fathers hand imprints on their cheeks

They've got daddy issues
And handprints of men where they shouldn't be
Their just looking for the attention they never got
So they took the flight and left the place that hurt them the most
But the where it hurt most was their broken heart

Their just shallow girls
Never will understand the "struggle"
The one you know oh so well
Cause you can't look deeper and their fake smiles are all you see
But their nothing more than leaky taps right
After all they're just pretty girls on the moon

Feb 2018

E. E. Cummings

If

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

Feb 2018

Jamie Treavish

91

I am destruction.
I am the pretty flower that fought
The winter cold and lost.
Waiting on the sun that never came.
I am the destiny of all but nothing,
Foreseeing that I lost myself through
Lying naked, alone and afraid.
But in the loneliness it sparked
Despair as I discovered the concave
That occurred in my brain,
Hidden naked, alone and afraid
But finally we were combined as
Soul mates even though my soul
Was ajar only to the darkness and
In the darkness crept and I couldn’t
Fight it, it consumed me
Devoured my heart and I’m
Sorry I let it in because it is the
Destruction in which it feeds
And I was never hungry.
I lied to myself when I said
I was good, because if even
Lucifer can be portrayed as an
Angel then I must be the anarchy
That stole his mind.
For that I can never change,
I am in the depths of hell which
Structures my heart and I am the
Only demon here with no one to
Challenge but the wide-eyed look
That glares in the mirror of life.

Feb 2018

Olivia Ventura

Steel

My leg is a ****** to steel
But the craving is something too real
I’ll grip the blade in hand
So suffering will be my brand

The cold edge against my soft skin
Calls out to something dark within
The inexplicable need to cut
As my lip quivers and my eyes shut

My leg is no longer a ****** to steel
It stings but I truly get the appeal
Expressing the intensity
When heartstrings pull with tenacity

I wrap the wound in fabric lies
And fasten it with red stained ties
And no one will see the shame
Because they won’t know what to blame

laura-jessica Feb 2018

only surviving.

when i was younger i was a afraid to die before i got to live,

why was i afraid to die?

now as a teenager i am afraid to live because i am only living to survive.

what is the point in being being alive if you aren't living,
what is the the point if you're only alive to survive?

i am not afraid to die.

i am afraid of being alive.