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samirackman
"a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars."
Divergent as always, I'm flying a kite in an avalanche zone. Inevitably, from your safe harbor, you will judge me. I yell, "this, this is liberation!" But you don't see me as a revolutionary. You'll take me for savage. Medicate the unprecedented out of my veins Cover me in a quilt of your culture, label it safety. Repression of variation, of the noise and the bold, is optimal for this society. Freefalling enthusiasm isn't exhilarating to you, and paint splatters aren't modern art They are just a mess on a clean canvas
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 2:54 PM UTC
oppression
I thought I heard you say "I love you" but it very well could have been the wind. I reply, in a mixture of whisper and breeze, "I love you too, please don't go." This is a timid tragedy.
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Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
blustery
You are a pair of cuffed jeans, a balloon, Christmas lights in August that make me smile more than the same old December traditionals. You are the bermuda triangle and endurance. You are a loose wire in the wall I can't help but touch, exhilarating.    You are halfway hoodies, broken guitar strings, a lot of dandelions and sometimes daisies.
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Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 2:50 PM UTC
metaphor collective
I fall for crooked people Crooked smile, nose, sternum I make promises with a crooked pinky I must have a crooked heart
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Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 12:35 PM UTC
Crooked
Horizons are not the only way to view sunsets you can watch the way they kiss every last thing good night every thing except one accepts the temporary absence of the sunlight the sea is the exception the sea rages as though the sky is on fire the waves grasp the shoreline       the sea is inconsolable, roaring over the suns goodbye On a level far less grand and mad as the sea, I can relate. even though you, I mean the sun, shall return in the morning, your "good night"s will still be goodbyes, and byes are never any good. so until morning         I'll be restless, as the sea.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
sunset/sea/insatiably
The Queen of England was praying for more than twenty years with gray eyes. Her passion now a pleasure that once was sinful. Magnificent vanities faded gently from passion to steadfast devotion. The King was overwhelmed; he had an eye that noticed everything. He grew rather afraid of himself.
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Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
The King and Queen of England
At least I saw him: the source of all happiness, (phrasing it in the most modest terms)
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Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
1/10/15
I do not look at the stars and think of the immensity of the universe. I see them as quiet selfless guardians, the kind sisters I always wanted. I am their sister, their daughter. With eyes like a lunar eclipse, I stare at them and say "did you see that?" As though the occurrences of my night were their equivalent of a shooting star. I hope they see all my smiles the size of galaxies, Where my dimples have their own gravitational pull. I hope they smile at the boys I show them And remark about similar he looks to their dear friend, the man in the moon. I hope they see the supernovas these boys inspire. And I hope they see when my tears fall like meteors, Leaving comet trails on my cheeks, Or when I feel like there's a black hole developing in my chest When my supernovas start to collapse. I tell them the tales that they will connect into my constellations, They will tell each other the stories that are the reasons for my shapes. I do not look at the stars and think of the immensity of the universe. I look at the stars and hope they are amazed by my personal immense universe.
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 10:05 PM UTC
The Opinions of Stars
thank goodness, thank God, for you thank every possible god, every being, every collision of matter, every exploding star, every instance to ever occur, for you thank goodness, thank God, for you
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 9:56 PM UTC
Goodness, God, You
Last night, I dreamt that you died And I woke with shaking lungs, And lips of pale blue My mind musing on if I wanted to continue breathing If you were not breathing too.
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC
Apnea