of flirting with death.
Sep 30, 2013      Oct 2, 2013

sleepless nights
and countless attempts
of flirting with death.
fear and loneliness
until the last breath.

Mar 11, 2012

I saw the letters

that you tried to hide from me

infact... We all did.

conversations run dry
not wanting it to end
but endings are inevitable

you can only talk about something for so long
before the jokes are no longer funny
and the punch line is over used

forcing it to run on makes it awkward
and causes anxiety

but conversations run dry
not wanting it to end
but endings are inevitable

Jun 21, 2013

Moths are born from spider webs,
creatures who make love with seven legs bent over their heads
and that is how I feel for you.

Almost invisible upon the back of plush blacks
merely caught up in a game of Twister, twisted, tied,
birthing beautiful flies -
I want to feel my saliva crawling out from your facial hair.

there is apathy in the way you say good night

Flirting with the past
Deborah Perne
Deborah Perne
Aug 14, 2013

Flirting with the past
Even though the first time it did not last
Erase...Forget...Move on....
Do not give in to memories, be strong!
Emotions getting the best of me
Is this a long lost love or the result of being lonely?
It should not happen again but I want to
Relive the past tell you I love you
Again...Against my better judgement
Though I already know the ending
What is the point of this needing?

The way I drink my coffee
Reminds me of you.
Well really it reminds me of
Us and this situation.
But let me tell you
I am no poet.

I am sitting here at
10.03AM November 9, 2013.
And I am finding no better way to explain
This situation than the
Mug of now lukewarm coffee sitting on my desk.

When I pour my coffee
It’s all dark.
I’ll add sugar and milk
And then it becomes
Sweet and dark and warm.

I’ll wander around with this mug
My fingers pressed to the sides just enjoying the
Comfort the warmth brings.
And I’ll start doing other morning type things
But that warmth is always there
Something like a blanket.

It will warm me on the inside too
Much like good conversation.
And the warmth will swallow me at times
To where I think of nothing
But how safe I feel.
All wrapped up in comfort
And good intentions.

Sometime later the mug will find itself
Resting on my desk.
My little cup of comfort will wait.

And while I find myself telling others
Of how nice it tastes and how much
Comfort it brings me
The coffee will start to cool down.

I’m not partial to the hot part of my coffee
I’ll still drink that cooled milky mess.
But it’s not the same.
The comfort begins to
Fade away.

I’ll remember something I need to be doing
And that comfort is now left to turn to
The cold in my absence.

Cold, murky coffee is no longer
A comforting joy.
That mug has now turned into a mess
I know I’ll have to clean up.

Scrubbing softly at the brown rings in the mug
I decide I need more.
And so I pour more dark brown into
A clean mug and decide
I won’t let it go cold again.

But even after the continuous comfort
The repetitive joy
I still
Always find myself
Left with a bitter taste
On my tongue.

The Amateur Poet
The Amateur Poet
Jan 15, 2013      Jan 16, 2013

I shuffled down the hallway
Trying to stay out of view
Peeking down the walkway
To catch a glimpse of you

But just as i heard you laugh
You looked over my way
I was smiling in a dreamy trance
As our eyes met that day

Your beautiful ocean hue
Made it hard to look away
But I broke the gaze and knew
Id see them once more that night when I lay.

I blushed and we both passed
He smiled and turned to leave
I looked back for one time last
To find him looking at me.

All I want is the way things used to be. I want smiles and laughter over hot coffee in the summer. I want lounging against each other in bookstores reading and chatting. I want long text messages to catch up. I want conversations that don’t begin or end. I want offers of shared blankets and a shoulder to rest my head on. I want coffee after a horribly long day. I want teasing and winks when no one’s watching. I want late nights just being together. I want your hand to hold when it feels right. I want singing together on the drive home. I want long hugs. I want your arms around my waist. I want your lips speaking and pressing against my neck. I want whispers meant for no one else to hear. I want kisses in my hair. I want answers.

But I don’t want abrupt endings. I don’t want to be left without answers. I don’t want to let go of your hand after a long night. I don’t want you to disappear without telling me first. I don’t want to lose what we have as friends (if that is what we can be). I don’t want to stop smiling when you’re around but it’s so hard to put on a happy face about it sometimes. I don’t want to regret any of it. I don’t want to feel sick with guilt. I don’t want to be left wondering what might have been. I don’t want to be left in the dark. And I don’t want you to be the one that leaves me there.

But is it selfish? Am I nothing but selfish? Did I ask for too much? Did I ask the wrong way? Did I use the wrong words? Because I need things to go back to how they were. I just miss it. I miss how we used to be.

And above all, I just want to know how to fix it.

Kay Baybay
Kay Baybay
Mar 1, 2013

Looking out at all the choices that lay before me
Watching me with quiet eyes, they appear so peaceful
Knowing the moment I step forward that will all change
What once was picture perfect, now a mess of infinite crossroads
Difficulty lies in getting past my muddled thoughts, everything they are I can truly see
If I make the wrong choice it would be so easy to implode.

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