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poetry
Editor's Choice
no messiah complex here
by Jack T Marlowe
it's always sad when a friend dies prematurely especially when they keep pretending to be alive still breathing while the suffocating weight of sorrow lies heavy on your heart and you discover there's no point in rolling away the stone when your Lazarus isn't looking for a savior it's hard enough carrying your own grief without taking on someone else's burden and it can't be done anyway all that we are left with, really are simple miracles to perform: to dust off our boots and keep walking, while trying not to think about it too much for you and i life remains to be lived and as for the dead-- if they come back-- their resurrection will happen on their schedule not ours.
New!
Snowy Night
by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

I hear the voices that make their way into my verses.  None of them rhyme nor do they have any reason unless by coincidence.  The beautiful words I leave to God, who talks to me all the time from above.  I have no doubt the words come from above.   Tonight, I feel like staying indoors. The voice I hear is not a comforting one.  I cannot bear the things it says.   I feel like if it is snowing in my heart. I want to keep the door shut.  There is an army of demons waiting outside. They want to kill the beautiful words. I hope to hear the voices that keep me feeling comfortable in the city.   It is snowing in my heart tonight. Perhaps I need to fall asleep and rest. I feel so cold inside.  I feel like if it is snowing because I might die.  I keep on thinking positive things. I don’t feel like biting a bullet. There is no one I trust more than myself.  One day I might find someone   that cares.  It is snowing so hard. I feel it coming through the door.