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  May 2017 Lot
elizabeth
I have a plan.
A deep, dark plan.
Maybe they'll get there
In time to stop it,
Maybe they won't.
But I still have my plan.
And I'll stick to it.
May 14, 2017.
  May 2017 Lot
Charlie Chirico
My fingers bleed
as I scratch the inside of my skull.
Like cleaning out a pumpkin to carve,
removing pulp and fingernails,
and scattering seeds to be planted.
Vacant minded, a candle
placed and centered in my head,
illuminating my eyes
and putting color to my cheeks.

Tape measure stretched,
razor sharp snap back.
Graphite on pine.
Rusted teeth cut deep.
Being boxed in, yet waiting,
anticipating the metal nails to sing
as wood meets wood.

Plumes of smoke escape
the pine structure.
My candlelight depletes along
with oxygen. This containment
only serves to obfuscate while
holding a crowbar.
And the seeds planted above
linger in soil
marinated by wood chips.
All the while the vegetable
shrivels up and cries.
  May 2017 Lot
Cné
shadows in the morning mist
phantoms in the fog
echoes in the murky light
that bounce around the bog.

from the chasms in my mind
where darker creatures dwell.
i looked into the deep abyss
and caught a glimpse of Hell.

where winged angels fear to tread,
my dreams in twisted pose
descend with me to Hades' realm
where nothing ever grows.

except the fear i keep within
which never seems to sleep.
and this will grow in leaps and bounds
as lower down I creep.

but faith will rescue all despair.  
the morning mist will rise.
the sun will drive the demons back
to darkness where they thrive.

the angels take me in their arms
and raise me from the grave.
the darkest places close again
and trees, in breezes wave.

dark though dreams can often be,
the dawn will ever rise.
i wear faith like armor
and see through his disguise.

the Devil, ever vigilant,
invades when i am weak.
even if i'm innocent,
my fall he'll always seek.
Inspired by Traveler and Temporal Fugue
  May 2017 Lot
Ryan Holden
Thorns give us scratches,
But not all can take insults,
With delicate skin.
  May 2017 Lot
PixieWee
Have you ever experienced the touch of death ?
I have..
Ive felt her thieving hands run through my hair.
Ive felt her abandoned palms hold my skin.
Had her frostbite fingers trace the paths  of a thousand winters across my face.
I watched as she stole everything from me.
Helplessly watching as it all disappeared.
I hid my tears amongst the April showers
Watering the flowers for the funeral in May.
The numbness of her artic touch has made my life eternally blue.
But we continue to smile because that's what life expects us to do.

~p.w
13/05/17

In memory of my Father 28/04/16
  May 2017 Lot
Mark Lecuona
You do not have to speak in a language that I understand
I can already see the vision in your eyes
There is no need to show me your weakness
Or how I can take advantage
Friendship does not trade on trust

But your burdens are welcome
As is your pain
For these things require no commitment from you
The already exist
And the vision we share is the same
As is the memory of the past
All we lack is the courage to be human

We walk on warped plywood
Painted with what to do with our time
It's the next layer I'm talking about
It's not what I need from you that matters
It's that we are ready for the same color
Even if we never find it
Because
It's the vision and not so much the focus
That would be too much work
The burdens we carry do not need new friends
Only the idea that someone knows what to do with them
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