I Don't Want You

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I don’t want you if you can’t light a fire inside of my chest. If your presence doesn’t pepper words on my tongue then you’re not worth it. I need to see your soul laid bare at my feet before I can offer you a piece of my mind.

You should make me breathe conversations and question everything in existence. Cause me to rub the stardust from my eyes when I wake in the morning. Ask me why my heart beats and my cheeks fill with heat and what my third eye can see.

My energy is precious and I’m too tired to give it mistakenly. I haven’t the time for pleasantries and cordialities. If you can’t walk me across moonbeams and into the starlight then I don’t want you.

 By V. Mylynne Smith

Website: http://vmylynnesmith.wordpress.com

Twitter: vmylynne

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/vmylynne/

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One Man's Karma

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The dead man sits in the small room
without sustenance or light.
There are no books or windows.
He cannot speak, yet even if he could,
there is no one with whom to do so.

The only things he has been given are his memories,
Strong, vivid.
The only time he leaves this place
is when his soul enters another's body
at the height of their fear and agony.
He leaves again at the moment of their peaceful death,
Returns back here to relive what suffering has just occurred.
So many instances:
A black man lynched in Alabama,
An old Vietnamese woman torched alive in a hut,
A blind, one legged, starving Kabul child stepping on a land mine,
A Detroit three-year-old gunned down by cross-fire
while playing in the front yard,
A small, terrified terrier
being used for bait in a dog fight,
A 911 plane passenger,
Syria.

The karmic wheel spins for him.
It never slows, just ticks off each offense,
It holds no grudge, just reflects what is due to him.
It's scary how relentless and unforgiving
this wheel is to this man.
Wherever there is evil,
he has no power over it.
It controls him as he relives the horrors of others,
even beyond madness.
It's happening again.
He knows it's time,
The voice calls to him,
“Adolph, come.”

By Linda Imbler

Website: http://lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com

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Monster Called Anxiety

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The monster on my back is called Anxiety

It’s an ugly monster that drags me down

It whispers in my ear,

It tells me that everything's not alright

I try to shrug the monster off

But some days it’s too powerful

It weighs me down

It makes me fear everything I see

I try to be strong but some days I’m just too weak

It breaks me down

It makes me think the worse out of life

It yells at me, it pounds my head

I can't shake it off, I don't know how to

I deal with the yelling and the pounding

Live my life with the monster on my back called Anxiety

Hoping one day I am able to free myself from it

 

By Made Line

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Just One More

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Now I want you to know

The process is not long.

It’s just one line.

But what is your limit?

How far can you push?

I can keep going

But I don’t know if you can.

Yeah, I’m talking to you right now.

It’s only one line but that is fine

If you can’t keep going.

I think if you believe

You can do anything.

Just remember that it’s just one line.

How much do you love me?

Because if you love me with all your heart

Then you will keep pushing

And snort this cocaine.

By Maddy Cakes

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As I remember it...

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“Girl, you better wipe the dirty drool off your face,” Mad says to the baby before leaving. The baby begins to cry.

“Girl, you better wipe the dirty drool off your face,” she laughs at the baby before leaving.

“Girl, you better wipe the dirty drool off your face,” she yells at the baby before leaving.

“Girl, you better wipe the dirty drool off your face,” she shakes the baby before leaving.

“Girl, you better wipe the dirty drool off your face,” she punches the baby before leaving.

“Girl, you better wipe the dirty drool off your face,” she sets the baby on fire before leaving.

“Girl, you better wipe the dirty drool off your face,” she blows up the baby before leaving.

By Cristina WilCraft

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