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Alex Braun Jan 2021
i am destruction in its own form.

i am a gas leak
you have never encountered before.

i don't tick like the bomb you're used to.

i have dangerous hands,
they've killed thousands of me.

i am a serial killer of self.
Alex Braun Oct 2020
Time.
I never have time.
I never have enough.
I'm running out.

I'm always rushing.
I'm always wasting.

Are you busy next weekend?
Are you doing anything right now?
Do you have time to grab a coffee?

I'm busy, sorry.
I don't have time.
Maybe another time?

I hate time.
No.
I hate society for time.
No.
I hate society for stealing mine.
Alex Braun Oct 2020
I see you in every color, in each color, I find you.

Red? What a dainty strawberry, a beautiful cherry, the blush on my cheeks when I see you.
Orange? You're a sunset, a sunrise, a lovely fall leaf, I burn for you.  
Yellow? The sun itself, the stars, the bright spot in an otherwise dark day.
Green? The forest, the woods, you grow with my love for you.
Blue? You are the sea, the sky, the water I need to survive.
Purple? A ripe plum, the lilac and the lavender, what I see when our lips meet.
White? The clouds, lightning, the paper on which I write my poem.  
Black? Daring and elegant, the darkness holds me when you cannot.
Gray? The sleek metal, the packaging, what keeps my thoughts together.
Brown? The trees, the dirt, the background, that which is always there.

The shades and tints of life weave millions of you around me.
Alex Braun Aug 2020
I want to be thought of as wild, feral, absolutely uncontrolled,
I want people to see me as barely restrained,
I want my hair to be an total mess and my smile to be a little unnerving,
I want my hands to be as soft as the sweetest moss but my fists as rough as the stones beneath,
I want to look like I've just climbed a tree or I'm about to dive into the ocean,
I wish to be perceived as thunderstorm, a maelstrom,
I am lost but not looking for a way home.

— The End —