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 Sep 2014 Think
Kyle Kulseth
With passing days queued up
          for the forecast foreseeable
Tuck into the routines' reserves
          deplete when permissible

Shot through the feet
          with what we can't forget
run on through the limp
          past the end of the sentence
                                             and sit
                         In the glow
                  remain undeveloped
                  stay unreconstructed
                  drop the curtain
                 on scenes interrupted

Dot your i's
          with up-slanted slash marks
sparks fill my eyes when
                            I read through your retorts
Blank page.
                                                        Blank page.
A waltz through a minefield
reeling jigs over headstones
          when digging through
           plain white lines
 Sep 2014 Think
Lisa Benson
txt mssg
 Sep 2014 Think
Lisa Benson
what's the point in loving when it doesn't last?
send.
i mean, you ******* lied to me.
send.
you said we'd be forever.
send.
now you're gone.
send.
and i'm trying so hard to believe in love again, kind of how you ignited it in me once more.
send.
but i can't.
send.
i won't.
*
backspace. delete.
hey, what's up?
 Sep 2014 Think
a gale
I never told you this
And I won’t remember
In the morning
Because here’s the thing
I loved you then
I love you now
But I don’t want to
Love you still
It’s just too **** hard
And too **** cruel

So I’ll send you this
While my brain is asleep
And my heart is wide awake

*a. gale
 Sep 2014 Think
Adelina Marie
you know what? this kills. knowing you're probably lying there with a head chock full of thoughts that i wish i could ease but i know i can't. it ate at me all day because i knew something was wrong. i still don't know exactly what is wrong, and that's okay. that's your business. but hey, i'm here to tell you something. and you're gonna listen, okay? there is so much more to you than what you see in the mirror. you're so used to your own personality and physical features that you don't understand how your supposed weeds could look like blossoming roses to another. but guess what? they do. sure, your smile says "happy" but your eyes say "help", but there are still universes to be discovered in the depths of those eyes. they say that eyes are the window to the soul, and god, your eyes are like windows to nebulae bursting with light and power and colors and stars. your smile conveys what you may be too shy to say, and your laugh is the call of an innocent child trapped in the body of a man who has had a rough life and has been shaped by it, for better and possibly also for worse. i'm glad that you can forgive, only hoping as time goes, you can forget. because you deserve so much more than what you've been handed, whether you agree with me or not. you deserve the world and all the stars in the sky and all the time left and beyond to do what you strive for. but there is a limit to what i can give you, so i hope you will take with a generous hand what i have to give. i can give you the love you deserve and perhaps a hand to hold. and maybe---just maybe---i can help you see that the weeds you believe that are growing in your heart and polluting your ribcage are actually roses. they've got thorns, but pain is easier to handle when it's divided between two. And i would gladly bleed for you.
I wrote this for a friend who has had a really bad day... I figured it would be nice to wake up to something so heartfelt.
Due to the graphic nature of the universe, creative expression is advised.
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