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sarah fran May 2015
on the way home tonight
I took the route
you usually do,
going straight here
and turning left there
mostly because it took me
past your house
and I could look at
the muted light behind your windows
and wonder

if you were reading or
watching television or
eating dinner or
not even there or
wondering about me too.

but also because it took me
just a little bit longer
to reach my destination
and through the looking
and the wondering
I could enjoy the night
just a little bit longer.
I prefer darkened side streets
to thirtyfivemilesperhour streetlamp-lit thoroughfares.

the shadows crowding the road
and the contented blankness
of the houses
make the music louder
and the thoughts deeper
and the loneliness lesser.
Kelsea Woods May 2015
I'm setting out on the good road
Don't know where it's going
The sages from across the years
Conditioned me not to fret
For a warrior never knows
What will happen next

I'm following the good road
With a fighting spirit
Powered by a needless compass
Driving straight into my chest
To the glowing space
Tucked behind my center left ribs

The good road runs through me
Right to the strumming strings
That bring light to my eyes
And color to my cheek

I'm out on the good road
It's paved with miraculous shifts
Illuminated under a boundless sun
That warms everyone I meet

I'll be traveling the good road a while
Don't know where it's going
I've got to keep moving on
Then I'll make it there
This work by Kelsea Woods is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Josh Bass May 2015
Clockwise against the blue light
Silhouette against a 70 mile speed limit
"I let the music take over my soul, body, and mind."
It looks like an ant with wings
Hitchiking it's final ride
Counter Clockwise against the blue light
It takes off and lands again
The wheel shakes as my unbalanced tires reach 75
I turn the volume **** two notches up
Clockwise against the blue light
"The stress burns my brain,
like acid raindrops."
It's 2 a.m.
Time to go
Get on the road again
Shower, shave
and grab some joe
I am a workin' man

Each day
my routine
one...two...three
it is
the thing
that makes me me

A working man,
Hard workin' man
I do what must be done
I'm up each day
while it's still dark
And I'm not finished till the sun....

goes down
driving cross the land
I'm up at two
In bed by ten
I am a workin' man

I never
seem to
find the things
To love
What working
hard may bring

My truck
all loaded
Time to hit the road
the alarm
goes off
inside my head

I spend
most of
my life alone
it's me
my truck
and the road

it's 2 a.m.
it's time to go
I am a working ma
shower, shave
that cup of joe
workin' makes me who I am
Missy May 2015
your courageous one second actions define your character
the fact of risking one's life for their love's enjoyment
an action bold and stupid
yet beautiful and kind
a simple gesture in the middle of absolute chaos
attention on a daunting task
but takes the time to secure all surroundings for those quick three seconds
a simple kiss
yet bold and filled with passion
a kiss while your hand holds the wheel steady, and my shirt grasped in the other
pull me close, then let go
you are dangerous, but an oh so addicting entertainment
a one second decision
Lauren A Todd May 2015
If I close my eyes long enough,
I can see you at the stop light
With your arm out the window.
And the shape it made, took me down.

If I close my eyes long enough,
I can see that mouth
As you bring your cigarette up for a puff.
And the shape it made left me limp.

If I close my eyes long enough,
I can hear that laugh as you lean out
Long enough for me to read what your face wrote.
And the sound it made, shook my bones.
Sara Jones Apr 2015
Everyone always wants to live in the fast lane.
And they all tell me I should do the same.
But why should I?

I don't want to run by people who could enrich my life
I don't want to go a hundred miles a minute.

I want to enjoy life.
Stop and smell the flowers,
Not see them and say "oh how pretty"

I want to love hard,
Not much.

I want to feel the soft embrace of a dedicated lover
Not just of everyone who throws an offer my way.

If I'm being completely honest
As long as I reach the air and finally feel my colors change
I'm okay with whatever happens around me

And maybe when I jump in a car with some pals and scream with them "ROAD TRIP"
I'm okay with running a hundred miles a minute.

But someone, once I'm in that left lane,
Please remind me to stop and breathe.
Remind me that life isn't just the wind blowing in my hair or the music turned up loud

Life itself is hidden in the dull moments.

And don't just remind me that life is worth living through those dull moments
Remind me to cherish how slow things can go.
How beautiful people get when they show you their souls
And only in dull moments and awkward silences can you see that in them

Only in loneliness can you find out who you are when you stand alone

Always remind me of those things
Because when you start running like that you get addicted to the adrenalin

But if you slow down,
If you see how people are made of comets and stardust
Maybe you can see that you yourself are, too.

If you live your life in the left lane,
How can you take the proper exit?
The exits that hold the best times are off to the right.

Don't tell me to live in the fast lane.
I don't want to brush past people
I don't want to be inside this shell that keeps me from slowing down

Thanks for your offer, but I think I'm well off
I have flowers to smell and people to meet
Cat Fiske Apr 2015
1,
I will tell you every detail and fact no matter how mean,
lets start off by being honest I was turning sixteen,
2,
my life was falling faster then the leaves from trees,
Dropped like petals from decaying flowers
                 because they were ignored by the bee's,
I was wilting massively wanting to be free,
of my misery,

3,
**** is not something they teach you about,
and when it happened to me it was considered allowed,
Because when he did it,
I didn't have a fit,
or say "No stop",
I just kept crying like I was before in even more shock,
But like a toddlers screams and cries,
Your demanding wants was the only compromise,
But in the the same way,
my cries made me just as much as your baby,
4,
and he didn't take care of me,
like he promised he would,
like any man claims they could,

5,
I was still cutting myself up again,
until December 2014 on the 10th,
That's when I decided to stop,
6,
We had split, in late February,
the year before now as it still felt then it felt even more necessary,
now to cut myself again,
because like my face has been a women though she could be so plain,
and state to me sweetie,
as I listened to a women use words like a child does things sneaky,
As she explained to me how badly you had mistreated me,

7,
I didn't disagree,
but she and I knew I wore a face of unbelief,
like how a drug addict doesn't wish to admit there mistreatment,
but to make it worse she tied in my mother and father,
like tying the rope on there daughter,
8,
I now sat on the floor,
my life I lived was not the same and I couldn't handle more,
I heard her talk to me about the school,
and all the kids there,
and what they did to me,
but right then my body only knew how to go through the motions,
of point A to point B,
when I got up and grabbed a pen,
and began,

8,
I spoke about my 8th birthday my final birthday party,
9,... I mean 10,
I wrote on my arms,
till both looked like a henna tattoo's gone into a complete mess,
but they were names,
and places,
and everything,
because I remembered everyone's words,

11,
I took the pen,
and on each sleeve of hate,
I made what as a normal person would call there own fate,
pen in hand I put pen to skin and pressed down,
and like how you press your lips and body to the person you love
you move around,
12,
the pen was pulled down,
and like Siemens twins
the other helped me drown
the next one.

13,
the day before my birthday I leave the hospital,
and I know what I did was not logical
but like a freak it was probable,
and the kids not knowing the scars on my arms,
the wounds I had created most due to them,
still picked on me,
14,
I went home and my mom yelled at me,
I skipped dinner,
woke to the same thing,
she demanded to drive me in,
and hit me the whole five minute car ride there,

15,
It was my birthday,
my 16th birthday,
and I hit my mother back finally,
while she was driving,
16,
I arrived at school,
and she was cursing at me,
so I cursed back,
Called her a **** and ran inside crying,
6: Talk about the worst birthday you have had. this is all true. i encourage u to write one too, or go to my collection and find one of the 40 story topics and write one,
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