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Tonight.

I saw a woman walking with earbuds in--one earbud was in--while conversing over the phone with someone. Beauty overwhelmed her mortal body. A piece of her hair had loosely fallen from the right side of her scalp, and her blonde, beach waves blew in the wind.

Behind her was a man in a coral v-neck. He had blonde hair and the body build of a high school ****. Handsome. As the woman ahead of him leisurely strolled the streets of Minneapolis in her athletic shorts, which were outlined by gray stripes and dipped up in the middle of the side of her thighs, the wind seemingly spun the ****'s face 180 degrees. His eyes were awestruck and full of alive hope, wonder, and desire. Lust. What a picture.
an excerpt from "Honey" by Andrea Gibson

"Jesus ******* Kennedy

Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are when you’re tripping
Literally tripping
I have never met anyone more clumsy
You walk into a room and turn every head when you crash to the floor
And I’m like ‘that’s my girl!"
honey andrea gibson girl gorgeous kennedy
Having an anxious soul is worse than pretending to have a patient face. Being someone you’re not will never change the fact that you are who you are. You will never be her, and you will never be him. If you respect yourself, the ones who care the most will hopefully follow suit and treat you better than the most beloved person that they have ever encountered. Life is always going to hurt, but it will only hurt as much as you let it hurt.
This is a short excerpt of a free verse that I hope to someday have published.
My tired eyes cry
My weary body lies
And why do my tears
Think they cannot dry?

Shaky hands and nervous throat
Exhausted heart, this stimulated soul
They ridiculously wait, day after day,
For a break from sorrow, a thing called hope.

How is it that I can live, but it is the hardest thing I ever did?

© Melissa Carlson 2016
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