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  • It’s time to say goodbye—the community at cicadamag.com is now closed. Learn more...

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  1. Last week
  2. whale bones

    i am walking through the carcass of a whale there are great bones around me, massive ribcage— they are towers, or bars, or the walls of a home. is there marrow within them? or poetry? i thought the whale would fade after beaching but it did not— when it did i thought it would wither. perhaps it did, but the carcass remains; i am walking through the carcass of a whale and wondering how long before the wind carves the bones to dust. farewell to the orange sky. farewell to the cicada call in the summer evenings. food is still good past its expiration date and sometimes daylight clings beyond the setting sun but when the midnight comes, will it bring waves to cleanse the beach? when i return come morning, will the whale be gone? i whisper poetry to the inside of a whale carcass and wonder how long i have left. ~~~~~~~ ((AN: there's a weird, half-life atmosphere to the slam now. it's like all the rats abandoned ship but the ship hasn't sunk yet. the slam was supposed to go down but it's still here and it's like walking through purgatory. it's like it's here but it isn't and i'm hurting to see how long it will last.))
  3. Earlier
  4. do not go gently into that good night. rage, rage against the dying of the light.

  5. This is my last update before the slam dies for good. I had a great time on here and I'll be thinking of y'all forever.

  6. jenga

    you leave suddenly like a brick pulling out from beneath me didn't realize how this would feel i followed my life like i follow stories until i snapped back to reality at the very end of it and it's harder when pain hits all at once. i have grown used to you building me up, making me laugh when i couldn't breathe, you made that feeling better texts coming in a couple times a day even if i don't have the time to make my responses do much more than suck, usually didn't know how to fathom the way you would vanish i wobble as my world tilts like a jenga tower with one brick pulled out i did not realize how it would feel to be left reaching for something beyond your emptiness you made me feel tall beautiful, happy, loved and seen. did you intend to do that? should not have called this happiness mine because you gave it to me all of this never could have happened if you hadn't built me up i wish i could have thanked you said something found true, constant words for what you mean before i felt the void of your shape stable and aching unfillable by anything but what is past out the window wish something could take me back to memories that some days i just want to bury myself in rather than face a shaky present before we the part was final barely holding i became highly acquainted with memory i think love is not just noticing when something is there but feeling all the moments when it is gone because you meant something something i stood upon. This is for a lot of people, but part of this is about Cicada closing down. I know I haven't been posting long, but thank you Cicada for giving me a place to post my writing where people I don't even know can see it. I've sort of grown used to how wacky and creative this place is, and normal, physical life is orderly and rule-following and nothing like that. Before now, the only people who read my work was basically my mum. And the occasional interested relative or teacher. I know I'm not that important here, but it still feels good to read through the view numbers on my poems, and feel like someone has read my work. I was afraid to start posting when I signed up in February, but I wish I could have started posting sooner. @bluebird , @The Invincible Troodon, @WanderingMonster, thank you for liking my work (and if there's anyone I'm forgetting, thank you too). All the people who showed up as views and didn't like: thank you for reading it. Even if you didn't like it--even in spirit, rather than in digital reaction, the fact that you took the time to read it means something to me. I don't know if any of you care, but in case you do, I'm going to keep posting on the Cicada 3.0 website after I can't post here any longer (cicadamagarchive.home.blog) by the same username.
  7. Rabid White

    He is the first of many I've yet to meet I gingerly stare at his morbid feet As he goes down the rabbit hole He stares at me with eyes that could steal a soul He's not the rabbit I read in books He doesn't care about all those looks His bones poke out of his tailcoat As he rides with me in a boat He is loyal to Queen Red And has told lies after everything he's said His exquisite features are never out of sight And he calls himself Rabid White
  8. i cant download the online issues and my heart feels like it's going to collapse.

  9. im definitely going to miss the hell out of this site. i dont know if it's closing midnight on the 14th or midnight the 15th, but either way im getting my goodbyes to the site in now.

    jess, sonder, archea, queenie, and i are trying to make a new cicada so we can have a new home for our poetry, but this definitely holds a special place in my heart. i came out as trans here first, and was accepted as i was wholeheartedly. getting to know everyone in the discord has honestly been the highlight of my summer and i have no idea what id do without everyone.

    being published a few times in the cicada issues was something to be proud of, and im glad i got to share that with everyone here. cicada is where i found my poetic voice. im so, so sad that this has to end.

    ive written quite a few goodbye posts in my time, but ive gotten attached to the community here. all the users and the admins and autumn and all the artists made this publication feel welcoming. in all honesty, i dont know if i would have survived my early teenage years if i hadnt found poetry and art. 

    thank you so much to everyone for sharing their writing with me, too. thank you for the rp threads, and the feedback on my work, and thank you for putting yourselves out there too. 

    thank you to the admins at cicada for giving us a new site and a chance to connect with each other. thank you for giving us 20 years of an amazing literary magazine, and thank you for listening and interacting with us. we owe it to you guys for maintaining this community.

    to everyone: thank you and goodbye.

    1. thepensword


      logan ilysm im gonna cry

  10. is anyone still listening?

    This is really good! :)
  11. discord

    thank you much
  12. is anyone still listening?

    today is brought to you by the physical act of remembering. & remembering is a swandive from a cliff: you choose when to jump, or youre shoved, or the ground decides it's time & crumbles. but freefall is the shortest purgatory a living thing can experience & you might tell yourself this was a mistake, that hurtling into the expansive, apathetic blue of the sea would render you something ended. something breathless & floating. the headfirst weightlessness & regret & solid hope & wishing hard for what was always leaves a hole in your chest when nostalgia bites. then comes the water. the cold crashes into you like a freight train & you are something mournful. something wanting. grieve the past & things that were. honor them. important things will stick. you can make homes like you can make apples: from seed to sapling & maybe in a few years youve earned fruit, or a kind of belonging. a home is never more than a house plus memories. & this home may succumb to worms, or wood rot, or real estate, & you might package up remembering & leave it in your attic, but attics are made to be forgotten & rediscovered. this is its magic. learning how to remember is a little spellbinding thing & the first time you spiral: you loop & spin & widen & suddenly that attic is the most important thing you have ever tasted. remembering is roses, or at least tinted pink. never mind the worms. never mind the rot. this home lives in recollection, & souls, & the attics of new homes. important things will stick.
  13. discord

    @bluebird okay so just accept my discord friend request and i can add you. i'm thepensword there too
  14. discord

    @bluebird i'm gonna try and add you directly
  15. embittered

    they taught me how to snuff out the aching, glowing life i found in the way sun looks on clear water with laughing comments and rolls of eyes i have been embittered in realism forced upon me (as though reality was their to shape) a certain, soulless reality defined by false science limited to what we know in this moment (which is the idea of science, really) i was taught to be afraid to voice the magical way light dances on water clouds swoop across clear sky an infinite sample of the universe within meters of my feet in scattered rocks we take for granted but right now i am glowing inside, i swear and it makes me feel like that flat reality holds no limit on my words.
  16. embittered

    Typo: title was meant to be "voices" and I went onto autopilot. Embittered was actually the title of something else I'm in the middle of writing. I can't figure out how to edit posts I've already written, so I'm stuck writing this in the comments section. Could someone help me on that?
  17. embittered

    sometimes when i read i can feel the voices riding over my own that's why, honestly i only read at night because even though i love reading my identity is fragile enough that someone else can overrun it. sometimes, when you give me advice it's like an asteroid slamming into the fiery surface of my forming planet splashing another hole of lava gaping where before there was cooling crust you embed a part of my new geology sometimes when you give me your opinion on my not-enoughness i collapse and everything i thought was true is no longer there anymore a tunnel of doubt maybe it's good for me but i just want to cool be stable always knowing and solid maybe that's wrong i don't know sometimes, on bad days one little comment changes everything but i don't blame you for using your voice if i get that right too i guess i'm willing to suffer for it sometimes, i know i'm mimicking, and i do it anyhow somewhat convinced that there are studies in psychology holding validation but this is conscious an easy way to earn your love a shameful habit i cannot squash people are willing to accept me better, if i echo their voice; feeling sick inside as i watch myself than if i close my eyes wipe them away and stare at nothingness, trying to locate the lonely planet known as myself then, some other days i don't care a growing wall of solidity the positive comments excite me i love the way words rush out of me and maybe i'll collapse when another asteroid comes through, but i feel now as though i am watching the comets from down below on soft grass sprinkled with dew and the water it's just water those stars in the sky are just other stars doesn't have to mean anything about me but i can behold their sparkles in the night, this night i think and reach forth hopefully into oblivion
  18. discord

    shit i'm sorry i was too late again. is there a way you can just add me? i'm Bluebird#5793 if that helps. if not can you send it again i'm sorry
  19. speed

    trees cup the seemingly endless road to me it is primal and lonely especially now, when it is framed by sun-paint sky and sharp hills angle up from the road with clumps of grass reaching up on either side i know them from a passing distance those hills hold my daydreams slipping away as i look out the window, wondering as i go somewhere i will reach in another life, approaching another land far away from here and now if i don’t look at the clock time dissolves into no measured meaning beyond that in my head what must it have been like to walk the fifteen kilometre distance in a time before cars? an endless well-known stretch of uncaring land (whereas i have the choice to opt out of knowing for my own sanity whether that is right or wrong) perhaps it would seem different if i were the driver but i have almost-freedom in the cold, still passenger’s side before i arrive at another day of my life, school, an eventual change of seating in this car again, a car of my own and a tax bill and a house i can’t stop from coming but right now i am not there i am here i am now i am tired of trying to cast myself ahead
  20. A new chapter begins

    When the world is dark my love for you grows brightest.You are the color to my black and white, my perfect opposite, my perfect love.The chapter is closed but a better one has begun my love.I miss those days i wasen’t here for long, but the slam was an important part of my life. The first post I saw was one of @Ainm‘s and I thought it was cool so I signed up, the slam saw most of my thought during the first fiew months of my first relationship (and a temporary split) I’m gonna miss you peoples Connor out (for the last time)
  21. closet

    thank you! that means something to me. :)
  22. Information on Staying In Touch! IMPORTANT!!!!!!

    I'm posting the link again because apparently the above link expired even though I told it not to? Here: https://discord.gg/uTNAYjt
  23. discord

    @bluebird try this one https://discord.gg/K9QVnd
  24. 98.3%

    if you’re me you know how to milk praise easily you know that love comes in two paths easy and hard easy praise is the kind with no risk pretty; nice boots; mature and professional you’ll do well for the rest of high school i look so destined for a job in actuarial sciences or information technology (sounds like misery in good payment, although before i knew myself it appealed to me) i know how to find safety in 98.3% instruction-following certainty excellence was a command not a decision for panic attacks, tears and boredom i receive good grades (they’re not the same thing when i disagree) but even when i try to make them into solid glowing matter they are still forwarded to the inbox of a phantom representing who someone else wishes i could be the phantom is now dead except on the outside with the encouragement it grows the truth fades for a moment and then comes back in fury but there’s another kind of praise that comes with rejection but also being seen the hard compliments make my heart skip a beat the world dissolves into vibrations they’re not dependable or perfect but they feel, for now like matter belonging to me.
  25. closet

    i love that so much
  26. discord

    the link expired can you send it again @The Invincible Troodon
  27. gravity

    i meant: (in retrospect, it fasincates me how one part of me can be in the world, the other looking from the outside, but in the moment i can feel the division and it scares me)
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