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Prom

today is prom and all my friends were

scattered about the school. their date’s

corsage, in the center of their eyes instead of

hearts. diamonds poured from their

lips, and out of their mouths, lost roses.

each girl wanted to be princess diana, and

some of them strived for cleopatra. an epidemic

spread, so quickly, like a bad disease, but it would wash

away during the night. the sky,would no longer be

a velvet dream, but heavy, and gray.

today, feels like any other day,

but tonight, they will get a crown

and this night will roll around again, next may

and as they get down, until saturday, the

only thing they’ll continue to say:

prom is the god of our hearts.

but yesterday, in art, another girl and I

exchanged glances, as the others talked

amongst us, and our eyes seemed to say:

we’ll be the dignified magnolias, in a

garden of ivy. the anxious sprig of tendrils,

danced in the air at school today. but I

was just anxious to survive it all, amongst

the sky, sick from the sun’s absence.

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Exit...

These tears
Will have to wait
This pain
Will have to hold
On the line
Listen
To the elevator music
My number
Is coming up
And in the pause
Much ado
About what
Is in my head
Take a short
Take a long
Trip through
My stories
Much more floors
Than can be seen
From the street
As you sit on the curb
Judgement in your pocket
Like loose change
You won't give to a beggar
But I'm going up 
My number is coming up
I won't look down
I'll welcome you 
But your pride will refuse
So alone I suffer
Empty hands
Full heart
Here's my exit...
APAD13 - 071

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Write Dress Secrets

Do girls in white dresses have something to hide?

some little secret

someone slipped between their thighs?

maybe it was yesterday

or when they were five

but girls in white dresses

often aren’t alive

their eyes have turned hollow long long ago

their hearts have dried up

oh say it ain’t so

yes white is their color

so pretty and pure

but they aren’t real

no not anymore

they think of a time

before they felt wronged

they think of a time

when their hearts longed

for someone to hold them

or simply just try

to understand the reason

why they always cried

“White dresses and lace”, mother often said

“go straight to a man’s heart

and not to his head”.

So they think it’s their fault

think they should have known

to turn him away

when no one was home

No girls in white dresses

are not like the rest

they hold on to secrets

they must not confess.

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1 0 1

They say energy cannot be

created or destroyed, so

does that mean the energy

of the universe and my

ancestors surround me?

Even my body is made up

of atoms and molecules

which also makes me

a form of energy.

I don’t know about you but

the idea that even if I die,

I cannot be destroyed is a

very beautiful thought to me.

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through favored words
and half-hearted
thoughts
we sink into
the dark,gasping
for air as slowly
into the nothing
we become all
that was ever
holy in no ones
name forgotten- 

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2 0 2

To Hell and back

Creaks and groans from tired, unwilling bones

Threatening mutiny under the weight of recent ill

They have had their fill

I have too

It would be shortsighted to blame you

I pass no condemnation to any

When shoulders can bear a load as they must

I have spit and I have cussed

Though, no venom for your ears

All crimson disappears and I find my heart swelling once more

For the one I adore, the one I will wade

Into Stygian depths for

If it is asked of me, you see.......

I love you eternally

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0 0 0

The Point of No Return

The Earth is ripped.

 

Jagged

edges

sharp

as a samurai.

 

In this moment

we

diverge.


The wheels have turned

crying

and moaning

in every

crank.

 

There is a hole 

in the 

universe.

 

Gaping.

 

 

Widening. 

 

 

 

Each moment

lacerating

the connective tissues

of the umbilicus.

 

Happy Memories

is now an old woman.

Decaying.

Dying.

Bones crumbling.

Her eyes are infested with maggots.

Do not look back.

She is turning into a pillar of salt.

 

Never look back.

We are banished from each other's sights.

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Q&A

the regurgitate knowledge
drunk from the gutter
their only way of knowing
watch their frothing sputter
as slime pours from their pores
seeping out across the floors
of innocent young minds
please take your "knowledge" to the door
we don't want your creative lack
being preached 'round here no more
to understand is to question
and you've got only answers
alongside your ignorance to answer for 

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fringe love

I bit into nerves slippery and shot;
soft and pliable as wine-soaked skin,
every eye-flick torn, every trembling day
and I know where the world goes when it disappears

 
sleep there, I need echoes and dust to breathe now;
fresh lungs hurt more than life itself,
and your voice is a stinging circle,
razing through swollen bones, marrow-slick

 
I was trying to feel something this morning;
pain or happiness or frustration
but, I need this, my cupboard has been spilling
for weeks now in disarray

 
I fixed it, I fixed it all while you're gone;
and the hours just sank into spaces
between light and multiplicity,
lost in whatever it is we call the past

 
and I am trying to decide if statues are gods;
if they sing or if they hum,
I don't even know if I really hear them,
it could be the madness in my tongue

 
I was never meant to be alive
where thoughts are the residual sobbing
of eons spent in unimaginable solitude and silence,
where the quiet is such a bleeding


.