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Ithaca Jan 2020
I have lost count of the times
where I have seen your face
out of the corner of my eye
but I can’t bring myself
to turn around because I know
that I am seeing what I want to see
and nothing more.
Ithaca Jan 2020
take me in
six inches deeper
my cold blade yearns to rust inside your heart

feel my pain
before the blood dries
I want to be the one to drain the color from your eyes
Ithaca Jan 2020
Please don’t post spur-of-the-moment poetry on the internet where thousands of people could potentially view it...

You’re so welcome,
You
P.S.     Good luck with, well, you know what.
Ithaca Dec 2019
I don’t think you realize just how much you mean to me, and my biggest fear is that you never will.
Ithaca Dec 2019
The sound of crimson rain descending from large, black clouds and landing with a vengeance on reinforced steel echoed solemnly throughout the night sky.

This post-demolition city was destroyed beyond recognition after the warhead hit.

Barren streets decorated with scattered rubble and the smell of decay saturated the night air. The radiation caused the rain to turn the color of blood; the blood of the millions of people that the projectile disintegrated.

Just North of the blast radius, a small, barely standing apartment complex stood ***** from the broken ground.

On the second floor of this hotel of hell, two teenagers, a boy and a girl, were quickly becoming men and women; their pleasure loud, but never heard.

Above them on the third floor, a woman hung **** from the ceiling. Her sickly body covered in boils from the radiation.

Two floors below, seven skeletons were spread equidistant from each other. The boy and girl had moved them surreptitiously after doing something with them that even I would not in right mind divulge.

The fourth floor was a horrible sight. A dying baby screaming helplessly; his mother and father lying dead beside him; they both shot themselves. The baby was born with six tiny, black eyes, and no legs to crawl. He’d take his last breath before the sun rose in the morning.

The boy finished his act, and took a large puff of a cigarette. The girl, completely satisfied and lying in blood, chose the needle. The boy followed.

It was their escape. A way to leave the pain of being orphaned by the war. Every single loved one and friend was slaughtered like cattle by the enemy. It was only them now.

This was their first night at the makeshift hotel, and they came willing to die. Together. They knew the radiation would overcome their sickly bodies.

There was nothing left to live for.
No place to call home.
Hölle auf Erden.
O night divine.
Ithaca Dec 2019
A subtle wind gently eased wild hair from his smiling eyes; the faintest hint of her essence hugged his comfy winter coat.

Not a mile to the East, the same breeze drifted wearily towards a lonely house near a sparkling frozen river.

There, kneeling at the edge of the water, a beautiful girl felt a subtle breeze gently caress her shiny blonde hair.

The young maiden breathed in as the wind continued to brush past her shoulders. She exhaled with a giggle and a blush.

This extravagant December morning, the sun rose in lavish style over the snow-bleached horizon.

The lad had worked as a paper boy in this cozy town for a little over a year, and the morning before, he had spotted the most gorgeous girl kneeling by a riverbed.

The young boy nearly broke his bicycle, he kicked the brakes with such force. He sat with open mouth and marveled at such a sight.

The girl saw the boy out of the corner of her right eye, and shifted a little in a knowing manner.

The smitten lad turned a shade of red that would make the Devil jealous, and tried to call out to this beauty. His voice failed him.

Feeling the attraction radiating from the boy, the lass arose gracefully and walked towards him.

The shocked boy seemed to forget how to walk for an instant. He fell flat on his face. He heard a hearty giggle, and though he thought himself a total klutz, he began to laugh at himself, with each breath ingesting cold, wet snow.

“Saylor”, said the girl, offering a hand up for the boy.

“Titan”, the boy replied, taking her hand. Laughing seemed to restore his confidence.

“Sorry for staring” Titan said apologetically. “I’m sure you get that a lot”.

Little did young Titan know, Saylor had been watching him every morning for weeks. Through the dining room window, she would watch as he would throw the paper towards her house, and pedal over the bridge leading into town.

“Don’t apologize” Saylor remarked. “You should come back tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve laughed like that.”

Not knowing exactly what she meant by that, and also not wanting to make himself look like a complete invalid by asking, Titan got back on his bike with a smile as grand as his elaborate fantasies of the night to come.
Please let me know if you would like a continuation :)
And if you’re wondering about the names, the answer is yes.
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