Villanelle" by Alyssa Lawson

The sea stream slows,
Seems time has brought
Destruction while the smog blows-
While chemicals in the lake show
The sea stream slows.
Efforts to "Go green" she knows
Have failed. She fought
Destruction while the smog blows.
The need for more just grows
And grows - a solution never sought,
The sea stream slows
Mother Nature bellows
"You've had your last shot"
Destruction while the smog blows
But that's how the saying goes:
You gain a little you lose a lot.
The sea stream slows
Destruction while the smog blows

"My Villanelle" by Li Hollinger

I like my life while you are in it, dear.
But our time is up now, and I'm getting scared.
So, what am I to do when you're not here?

I shouldn't be so selfish; I've had you for a year;
I knew that this was coming, and yet I'm unprepared.
I like my life while you are in it, dear.

You don't have to believe a word I say sincere.
I just couldn't let you leave without knowing I cared.
So, what am I going to do when you're no longer here?

For now I'll do my best just to keep you near;
I know when you leave none of me will be spared.
I like my life while you are in it, dear.

My future without you is foggy and unclear.
This is all your fault; you have me ensnared.
So, what am I going to do when you're no longer here?

When I come to say goodbye, don't expect a tear.
I would never put myself in front of you so bared.
I like my life while you are in it, dear.
So, what am I going to do when you're no longer here?

"My Brightest Star" by Meredith Lawson

My Brightest Star

This world is not your friend
Don’t try and make that bond
We can glide across a galaxy
To another planet, another life
Our hearts will follow the constellations
Knowing exactly where to go
Let our matching souls shine
Brighter than the brightest star
We’ll sail forever over the sun
Till He puts an end to what we realized
Was not so perfect, but the only
Perfect thing was us
Let’s shine forever
Brighter than the brightest star

"These Things Make Me Happy" by Alyssa Lawson

Wishful shopping online for expensive hats, wearing slippers accidentally, lack of makeup, messy-ing up my hair with my fingers and calling it a style, not having anywhere near the amount of money it actually takes to buy the things I crave, laughing it off, ending up at discount stores-wise choice, endless indie music track lists, knowing that I couldn't remember the name of the band for my life, most of those "nameless" bands-I call my favorite, feather pillows, my father's endless honey-do list, my envy of the lead singer of Fly Leaf, and the fact that I will never admit to actually being in love with their songs, freshly shampooed hair, that first bite of every cheesecake-it's always sweeter, the sound a soda can makes when you pop the tab, the color orange, the smell of chlorine and fresh pool towels, salt, the 90's, reflections, shiny things, scotch tape, thank you cards-not!, how much surprises drive me crazy, but how well worth it they turn out to be, the fact that I'm a horrible gift receiver-I try my best, a good hip-hop beat, secrets, oatmeal, lists, straight teeth, boys with girl hair, that pucker face every girl makes when she poses for a camera. The last bowl of cinnamon toast crunch, and the sugary coating your spoon gets when you dip it into the milk, brand new notebooks, the sound a book makes when you crack the binding for the first time, summer, chlorine, the look he gives me: it hasn't changed, large printed font, flashing lights, soft music, driving with the windows down, the headache you get when you eat so much sugar all at once, vowing you'll never do it again, but then the next day your promise is as good as gone, long books, reading slow, blue eyes, tennis-any newly found sport for that matter, trying new things, my checking account balance, crying so hard you just have to laugh, calculators, my fish: princess, magazine cut outs, outlet malls, chap stick, tape, book marks, sitting on the floor, not being alone, being left alone, Audrey Hepburn, white lies, the moon, thunderstorms, lame prom themes, my fingernails, that feeling you get between your toes when you walk on the beach, natural exfoliates, white, hot days, cold nights, running in the rain

"Razor Blade" by Karla McLung

Razor Blade

put my edge against your skin,
and reveal in pain and sin,
whether you love or hate me,
make damn sure you appreciate me,
for all i'm worth and thats a lot,
and don't fotget all that rot,
they tried to feed you,
choke it down,
but you spit it out when they turn around,
would kill you,
you'd kill yourself without me,
i'm all your wealth and treasure,
rolled into a sharp shard,
of your broken heart.

"Down the Toilet" by Stephanie Milem

Ken paced back and forth across his living room floor aimlessly. He slid his hands into his now messy black hair and held his head still as he walked in a crazed path across his living room. His mind and heart had sped up during his run home and he hadn’t been able to calm them down since. He couldn’t think straight through the pounding in his head and the feeling of anxiety gripping his chest tightly . It sunk lower, gripping his stomach and churning until Ken had to lean against the living room wall to keep himself steady.

They were all familiar feelings, but it scared him every time.

He clamped a hand tightly over his mouth and held another to his stomach as he stood up straight. He stumbled from the living room to the hallway, and then a few more feet past his bedroom door to the bathroom. The light was already on, he had a habit of forgetting to flip it off when he was finished, so he dropped immediately to his knees and steadied himself by gripping the open toilet.

Kenichi took the week break from his job because he was cycling though a dark bought of depression that he was having trouble controlling. The medication seemed to do nothing but plague him with nasty side effects, and when anxiety set in it became more then he could handle. He turned on himself, mentally and physically, because he could no longer stand the disgusting thing he had become. Depression warped his self image, and in a desperate attempt to better himself and relieve the pain he turned to extreme measures. That week was particularly hard, and he wasn’t able to pull himself together enough to return to school.

Ken pushed his hair back from his face and held himself over the toilet by placing an elbow on each side. His fingers weren’t needed, he was already worked up enough to do it without them. He closed his eyes tightly, lowered his head, and the rest came as easily as the tears that slid down his cheeks. Ken gagged and heaved until his stomach was empty and then he fell back onto the bathroom floor and gasped for air.

It wasn’t enough, it never was. The empty feeling remained and his warped image of his scrawny body never changed. Ken reached up and undid his tie and then the buttons on his oversized suit and pulled his shirt and coat open. He laid a hand across his bonier chest and pressed his fingers against the prominent rib and collar bones. They were disgusting, no matter what he did he was disgusting. No matter how skinny he was nothing ever changed, but he continued because it had become a twisted addiction. Ken passed out there, stretched out on his back on the cold linoleum floor, his suit pulled open to reveal his emaciated shame.