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Jenna Lucht May 2017
I am a shadow of myself,
Walking through life
Ten steps behind everything
I do and see.

I am a reflection of my mind
That can never fully see
Everything that I am-
Though I live in it every moment.

I am a projection of everyone else
And every thing that I wish I was,
Knowing I am anything but.
Not knowing how to change.

I am a grey spot on my heart
Aching silently at every turn,
Miraculously pumping life
Through shrinking veins.

I am a glare in my eyes
Blinding my thoughts
And skewing reality-
Endlessly searching through a squint.

I am all the thoughts I think
Without ever being spoken,
Everything that I am lives in my brain
And all that I need dies in my mind.
  May 2017 Jenna Lucht
Sonia Thomas
My body listens to my commands.
Back straight, stomach in, legs together.
I have trained it well enough to not sway to the whims of other hands.
The back of my neck has learnt to not tingle at a touch anymore.
The lips don’t quiver when someone says my name.
Boot camp ***** is under control, captain.
No one crosses the line that has been crossed before.
We don’t speak of it,
but the legs did open before they knew how to behave.
With a sneak attack from the side,
And right between my thighs, I found fingers exploring
me like someone walking into the restricted section of the library
with caution and excitement, but all disregard for the rules.
There were no rules then, rather.
My body froze in attention.
I was a pawn and I moved one inch at a time as asked.

My mind led the coup to reclaim the kingdom of my body.
Pleasure remained locked behind doors
And muffled in pillows.
Obedience was learned
when the body woke.
Stay woke, stay woke, stay woke.
I am my own marching band now.
I am my own army.
I fight every day
Defending
Disagreeing
Shoving
Hiding
Covering
Curling in
Curling up
Shouting out
Screaming in.

Fight on, little soldier.
Seek your own pleasure.
But keep your back straight,
your eyes bright,
your laughter in pitch
And your legs closed.
  May 2017 Jenna Lucht
Sonia Thomas
I live on the inside more than the outside.
But, I allow the outside to get in sometimes.
I let the outside slowly caress the inside and ****** it.
Come out for a walk with me, he’d say.
Words don’t matter here. You can be who you want.
The inside, she’s soft.
She resists the brightness, she craves the cave --
The land of mirrors we’re walking through that she’s so used to.
Where it’s just us and our words and the magic we weave with them.
Outside, we grab *******, we grab attention, we grab,
We don’t differentiate between the sinners and the saints
We take and we take and we take.
Just like the song, just like the song.
We’re not here to fight. But, the inside, she’s defiant.
I hold my insides and weep,
I weep for the the land grabbing
My body is not mine anymore.
I am a slave to the outside.
The inside pulls me back in and we bulldoze through the Land of Mirrors.
We’re not alone anymore.
We’re a lot of voices.
We’re a cacophony.
We’re a chorus.
We’re a choir, raising our arms to the heavens.
Take me out, dare me to fight
I will write;
I am inside and outside today.
Grab what you can, extra extra this just in!
We’re crawling out of ourselves and dancing on the streets
to reclaim what’s mine and ours and yours.
Jenna Lucht May 2017
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
You are smooth against my skin.
Your surface is cool and inviting
As it wraps around my torso-
Like a protective blanket
You are my security,
Blue pleather bomber jacket.

I pick at your skin and it falls apart.
The zipper, like your bottom teeth,
Are crooked and misaligned.
You shrug over my shoulders,
But leave my chest defenseless.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
I bet you cost a fortune.
Almost as much as your nonprescription glasses,
Though you break just the same
Like the promises you keep making.

Blue pleather bomber jacket,
You never kept me warm
Just less affected by the
cutting winds of your back lash.
But when I fall asleep at night
I sleep beside the indent of your absence.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
You are just now brand new,
Though your skin is already worn through
And your lining thinning by the second.

I trusted you,
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
To protect me from the cold.
Though you slump lazily
Over others' shoulders,
Not really caring I've been waiting
With my shoulders bare and frigid.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
I thought you were one of kind.
But I see your manufactured gaze
Walking down the street,
Sitting across from me on the bus.

Go on, blue pleather bomber jacket,
Temporarily dangling over person after person.
Soon I will see you dangling
On the rotting hanger in a thrift shop,
Years from now looking preserved in your waning beauty.
Blue pleather bomber jacket,
Your trend is dying and your color fading.
I have been snagged by your imperfections for the last time.
Jenna Lucht Apr 2017
The tide rushes in
And fills my lungs with water,
Slapping the air right out of my chest.
For a brief moment the storm breaks
Giving me just enough time
To breathe deep and push the air
Barely hard enough
To bring me back ashore.
I am enough to control the waves.

A storms breaks out,
Flooding all around and
I am without a life vest,
Enclosing around me from every angle
I barely see an exit.
Soon enough it creeps to my chin
And I am forced to hold my breath.
I am not enough to control the storms.

I shout it as though
The vibrocity of my words
Dictate it's strength.
Ringing through every orifice in my body,
Straining my lungs till I taste the blood
And only a croak is left inside.
I am enough to command the sky.

I shout atop a mountain
As if it were an empty field.
Filling the wind with my fruitless whim,
Charming the skies to not leave me.
All done in vain and with no restraint
I barely pierce the space I stand.
I am not enough to bellow the wind.
Jenna Lucht Mar 2017
I remember snowy mornings
As a kid before school.
You left before me to catch the bus,
And I remember staring
At your footprints in the melting walkway.
I used to step in the same spots,
Mimicking the trek you just made;
Even though my legs were shorter
And I stretched them what seemed like a mile.  
I remember how close
That made me feel to you.

I remember this one time,
This one snippet of a moment,
When we were in our old basement
And you were standing on that old couch,
Your legs bent in a wide second position.
You were laughing, your face framed in silver wire.
Your hair was more red then, and your face more freckled.
You were lanky and tall;
To me you were a giant.
I don't remember what day it was
Or what we were doing,
But I remember you wore a grey shirt
And smiled wide like an idiot,
Standing on that old, second hand couch-
For whatever reason that's now lost in time.
I think until the day I die,
I will always see that image of you
When your name crosses my mind.

I remember this one time,
It was sometime in the Summer
When I boasted to all the kids in the park about you.
Bragging on and on; endlessly
About how my brother was going to be an army man,
And that if I jumped off the edge of the jungle gym
You would be there to catch me.
You stood there the entire time while I ran my mouth,
Trying to pluck up the courage to jump.
After what must have seemed like ages,
I leapt and you caught me.
I don't even know why
But I remember that so clearly.

I remember the day you came home.
That entire year seemed like a blur,
But the day you came home
Was like a kaleidoscope of color and taste
Returning to my previously dulled senses.
The day you left was grey and blurry-
If I think about it long enough
I can feel the same strangling lump in my throat.
When you came back,
My heart was pounding out of my chest
I thought it was going to leave a bruise.
My eyes darting in every direction,
My breathing quick and shallow
It felt like a dream I was afraid to wake up from.
I remember finally spotting you walking off the bus,
And then all of a sudden catapulting myself onto you.
Your uniform scratched me
It left a long scratch for weeks, but I didn't care.
I could finally breath and smile
Without holding back a pained expression
Every time someone asked me how I was-
I must have been holding my breath for months.
If you as a child is how I will see you forever,
Then hugging you in that moment
Will be how I remember feeling pure joy,
For the rest of my life.

I remember so many things
About how it all used to be.
How you let me sleep in your bed
When I was having a bad dream.
How Mom would send us to our rooms,
But we'd only put our toes inside
And stretch out in the hallway,
Just to talk to each other.
How you would wake me up
On Saturday mornings to watch cartoons
On that big yellow and brown blanket you loved.
Those are my favorite memories of you,
They're simple- and admittedly mundane-
That's why I love them so.
When I think of how things are now
I see those moments in my heart.
And for a bittersweet moment,
I remember we used to share so much more than DNA.
Jenna Lucht Mar 2017
I am convinced to my very core
That my thoughts control the weather.
My heart reflects the skies
And my eyes, the storming seas.
I wish there was more sun
In my soul that I could give to you,
Instead of Summer days with overcast skies.
More cherry blossoms
and autumn harvest.
Endless sunlight and gentle rains.
Rather my heart brings floods
And whipping winds that cut your flesh.
I could end droughts and nourish the ground
With the storms in my mind.
I could eradicate germs and disease
With my icy, bitter touch.  
Instead I seep into your home and slosh in the grass,
I frost the sidewalks at night,
freezing over your morning commute.
I cannot control the raging weather of my mind,
Or the biting sting of my frozen tongue.
While I send out thunder and lightning
Acid rain drains my brain
And hail storms attack my skull.
I long for Spring and live in Fall,
I search for light and walk in haze.
Craving the days I don't have to see
The air take form from my short exhale.
The days where the sun escapes
Past a lonely cloud on a random Winter day,
And the grass peaks out from the melting snow beneath.
Instead I cry with the rain and rage with the storms.
I breathe with the wind as if we are one,
Neither one knowing who's in control.
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