A SUPERNOVA

By: Lord DeadEyes

Burning, Sparking, and 

Flaring brighter than 

A Supernova, My Heart

Beating faster than a 

Twin Turbo, being hit Harder 

Than a Solar Flare during a 

Solar Storm during the 

Sun’s tantrum. While I’m 

Sitting here silent, I 

burn brighter than

A SuperNova

THE YOUNGER YOU

By: Shyloh 

Hi, I’m the younger version of yourself…

The one before the scars and flaws

The one before the trauma and bad decisions

The one before the cold nights alone

I’m the younger version of you

I can’t go forward in time and tell you what to do

But I’ll be in the back of your mind for better times ahead

I’m the child before the friends you thought you’d never have

I’m the child with a family

I’m the child, before you went to jail

I’m the child who cried myself to sleep at night

I’m the child who had a special blanket

We’re the same…you and I, just with many decisions between us

Before the fuckups, before the cut marks, before the dirty feelings

Before the insecurity, before the nameless emotions. 

I’m here to tell you though it sucks, that life doesn’t get easier…

It isn’t the situations you face,  but how you come out stronger.

A SIMPLE WORD

By: Julie Loomis

It amazes me how a simple word,

just four letters can bring such hope.

A word that Jesus gave us to give,

to all our neighbors so they could see

how peaceful life can truly shine,

with just this one word in our hearts.

It teaches us to be kind to others,

and appreciate all the beauty that is abound.

Just one word can also break a heart,

make it vulnerable and mend it again.

So I ask all to give this word unconditionally,

to the one without a home.

To say it softly to a child,

make the day of your elderly parent.

All we need to do is,

just LOVE.

PINK LITTLE PILLS

By: Shyloh 

Author’s Note

This is a really really dark poem, I recommend caution  if you’re triggered with child death, vehicular manslaughter, or addiction. Please proceed at your own risk.

Welcome…..

Ladies and gentlemen…

I’ve got a story,  it might be too gory

For those of the upper class ears

One of regrets, one of decisions, one of the fears through the years

A tale of sorrow, full of depression,  and laced with the little pink pills.

I went to the doctor to ease all my troubles he sent me home with a pill bottle

He said take two, two become four and that’s when I first had a problem

Four became eight, then eight turned to twelve till I took a whole bottle a day

The effects wore off, it wasn’t enough so the doctor increased it again

It didn’t take long till it happened again

And the doctor told me there’s no hope

He told me a shot from the bottle would do

And that’s when I finally knew

I was an addict to the pink little pills, the powder, the drink, and the bottle

I wasn’t myself,  but I thought I felt better till the whole thing collapsed down to hell 

On this miserable day, a whole bottle later I hopped in the front of my truck

The tree wasn’t there, to this day I’ll still swear

And neither were either of the children

I ended up a quadriplegic, with scars from my head to my feet

But the parents of children beware of the danger of letting your kids in the streets

Don’t be a victim to the pink little pills, the powder, the bottle and drink

Or you’ll end up an addict, a felon, or menace to the poor little kids in the streets.