Terrible poems I wrote in five minutes each on October 13

Puce

Slow, light, interred
She slips in and out of vision
A room, with curtains, a hint of cinnamon
Then loss, haze, heat behind eyes
Rage-worn weakness
A hand, full of the life blood
Her body so needs
Rest, it says, as it moves toward her
Mouth, though she is sure she lacks
The strength to scream
Slowly, with the euphoria that comes with
A final relaxation
She rolls back and allows
The haze, the cinnamon, the heat, the death
Engulf her soul

Machines

crank. crank. crank.
like bones in my wake
as I walk through this deserted party
noise, noise and mechanical laughter
of which I will never be a part
none of my days matter, for theirs
are eternal until they break and I
fulfill my duties and fix them
I live for their immortality
and then I live to die
an axe at the door behind glass for fire
I smash it, yelling, grab the handle
hurl it at the metallic faceless
nightmare that surrounds me
the blade clangs off and echoes, merging
with that eternal crank. crank. crank.

convulsing, i weep

Not this place

I have not felt this way before about this place and in this space. It is futile to ignore, but I have no protocol for understanding. I walked through those hallways, and the pictures of those people I desired were gone. Instead, I saw pictures of my colleagues, my classmates, my friends...my self. I sat on the roof of this place for a brief moment, and I saw. My place here is within these buildings, though they are small, difficult and underfunded. My assumptions about guidance are gone. I have lost all forms of role model--I am now my own. Those few I would have emulated have regrettably been destroyed in their attempts to defend rather than assume their ground. I sat above everything, and for a brief moment I saw, I understood, and I repented.
I needed vindication. And now, I have tagged that space which was essential. It is, finally, a part of me, though I tried to avoid it. I am here, and I can see the paths I have to flight. It will take effort, to be sure, but I am trying. I knew tonight on this roof that one day, one day soon, I will fly away.