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 Dec 2014 Lindsay
Beebz The Queen
I feel stranded on this island
And it feels so nice to be alone
I finally have no one to deal with
No one to please or love.
Because without him
I am stranded
But I'll send him a message
I'll put it in a bottle
I'll send it across the sea
It will read
"I hope you're thinking of me"
And when he opens it
He'll see my hand writing
And he will soon know
That if he wants me back
That island is where he should go.

And if he reads that message
And sighs in relief
Not missing me at all
I guess I'll be brief

My dear whom i love
Who doesn't need me
Can live life on his own
And i will be safe and sound
On that island
I will live a life full of adventure
And i may be alone
But i know I'm happy
Because he and i weren't meant to be
And i want no one else.
If "disposable" is one of the words that come to mind when you think of me, even if it's intermingled with "beautiful" and "lovely"
I don't need you in my life
Although that doesn't mean I won't still want you in it. I never really do what's best for myself
 Dec 2014 Lindsay
Esther
Today
 Dec 2014 Lindsay
Esther
Today is a poetry day,
She told herself.

People were dying,
Hopeless babies were being born,
And she was bleeding.
Yet there was a
Momentary
Calm
Inside the ever-raging storm.

Eyes gazing lovingly at
A wall,
She smiled and bowed her thanks
To quiet voices that
Sounded like
They had dimpled cheeks
And glory-glazed eyes
As they approved her thoughts.

She liked to think of
Synaesthesia as she typed
Away the
Colours
Of the words
That swam around in their
Polluted glass tank.

Today felt like a poetry day,
She said out loud.

Everything was uneven,
Someone somewhere was drowning to sleep,
And she was oh so mentally ill.
Yet there was
A tinge of
Comfort
In the darkness.

Her body was glowing
With toxicity,
And she was
Shaking from the
Cold
She couldn’t feel,
As soundless lullabies
Played in her mind and
Notes
She couldn’t read
Danced before her eyes.

She was crazy,
Everything was always a maybe,
Tomorrow was nowhere,
But, Ah…
Today
Today was poetry.
 Nov 2014 Lindsay
Cecelia Francis
I see it
-the poem-
and it sees
me from within
myself as well.
It tells me to write

not about things
that have meaning, but
to write things that
have meaning:

The stone and
the face of the stone,
and the voices
within it too
 Nov 2014 Lindsay
melodie foley
it's ironic
how I look at you
hoping, for you to look back at me

but when you do
I look away
because I don't want you to
see how much I crave you
 Nov 2014 Lindsay
Eli Smith
Release
 Nov 2014 Lindsay
Eli Smith
The beast inside,
Eating me alive.
Searching,
Burning,
Consuming my soul.
Begging for release
But, like a declawed cat
Unable to get free.
It planted a seed in the pits of my mind.
A request for help: for freedom.
But as the blood ran down my arms
And I put down the blade,
It decided the taste of my life was worth staying inside.
 Nov 2014 Lindsay
elizabeth
Someone else's illness
won't make your cold any better

Someone else's tsunami
won't stop your wave from pulling you under

Someone else's hurricane
won't stop your thunderstorm

Someone else's novel
won't make your sentence meaningless

Someone else's depression
won't make your sadness go away

Someone else's excitement
won't diminish your happiness

Someone else's better
won't take away your best

Someone else
won't be you
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