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 Jan 2014 Amy Grindhouse
Quinn
The shaking tears roll down my round cheeks
Hot and heavy are my laboured breath
It feels like a punch in the gut
The abscence of life
Why am I crying so hard for a man I barely even remember?
It's no matter now
I'm all spent up
And he is soon to be just another bag of bones anyway
Into a crowned pit he goes
Only to be forgotten
I see you

I've seen those eyes before
Drowning in patched-up paddle boats
With promises of tomorrow slipping down your face
Like saline shipwrecks fleeing harbor
And greeting the ocean floor with damaged handshakes
And now you're hopeless
Focused on could have been's and maybe one day's
Knowing one day
Swelled up storm clouds
Could slide through your cheek bones
Like sunshowers preventing your skyline parades
But I see you still searching for rainbows
Covering your face with two handfuls of imagination
Daydreaming of days where technicolor dreamcoats
Become wrapped around your soul
Like tuxedos for the bold

I've seen those arms before
Deafeated willow branches in the moonlight
Rebellious to rise upright
And now you're tired
Only fired up when your flesh
Converts to kindling on a campfire
Building sparks that shimmer for seconds
When your light deserves a lifetime
But I see you still inclined to shine brightly
Trying to assign meaning to your life with two inspired limbs
That can freely build bridges or climb mountaintops
Clinging onto hope with sturdy fists
Exploring the peaks of your potential

I've seen those legs before
Tattered toothpicks on prom night
Frozen in stage fright on the dance floor
Pressing muted prayers with each footstep
Into creaky floorboards waiting for silence to ensue
And now you're nervous
You're certain those two left feet can't possibly find the rhythm
So your shoes are the victims of bashfulness
Fearing one false step will uproot your jitterbugs
And place them alongside the butterflies in your stomach
But I see you still owning your insecurities
Because you know you're alive just fine

I see you
You are who I envisioned you to be
I see you
Brushstrokes of imperfections shaded in perfectly
I see you
It's more than just your typical hello
It's a phrase for all of us to speak solely with our souls
It can make you feel at home at the center of your bones
When all your hope is lost and there's no where left to go
So when I greet you
Listen carefully
This is a reminder that your eyes can be thunderous
Your arms can be victorious
And your legs can be ambitious
Your presence is necessary for this discussion
And your essence is accepted here
Let me speak your spirit into existence
Seeing is believing
And believe me
I see you
 Jan 2014 Amy Grindhouse
Emma
You're such an optimist and that tears me apart because you don't view the world as I do. You don't feel the pain I feel or the sorrow that fills my bones when I'm not in your arms. You don't suddenly cry because the end for us is near and I'm counting the days. You don't fear the emptiness like I do because I've lived it and I don't ever want to fall back into the hole of melancholy. I am scared of what's going to happen to me when you leave and I'm alone at 3 am without you near. When I'm terribly lost and looking for pain. I am scared to be without you.  So when you're 6,000 miles away and forgetting all about the drunken nights and silly laughs we shared. Or the mornings spent in bed making love for hours at end. Or the afternoons where cigarettes and coffee filled our lovely silence. Or when you're looking into the eyes of the beautiful new girl who'll steal your heart and change your whole view on "love". When you simply forget to say that you'll always love me or miss me as much as I will always yearn for you.
Just remember I wasn't ready to be in love, but I still fell.  Oh dear love, I still fell.
*I am hopelessly and endearingly in love with this man.
Oh, beautiful flower,
How wistful in woe,
Paint peace in your petals
And peace in foe.
Just something short and sweet at 2:40 AM.
 Jan 2014 Amy Grindhouse
v V v
(Or Bi-Polar Disorder)

I. Depressive phase- 
   
I love you for your kindness first,
then for the peace in your eyes.
How could anyone as sure as you
not be the one sent to save me?
But save me from what?  
From doubt?  From myself?
You are God’s gift to me yet
I can't help it sometimes
I picture myself ten years down
the line with you not caring
and me destitute and homeless,
living on the streets, alone.

           When the transition comes
            I see it come and embrace it,
            picking up speed it screams over me
            like a snow white avalanche,
           a huge chemical ****** in my brain
           that cannot be stopped.


II. Manic phase-

Here I like to entertain myself
with vain fantasies of sainthood.
I’m standing and waving
to the faithful in Piazza San Pietro,
doing what’s necessary to secure
my martyr’s destiny in the after life
where I’ll have a place of honor
in the great hall of God, and through
a window in the floor I’ll be able
to see my mourners
filing past my gaudy reliquary,
crossing themselves as they gaze through
the philatory glass at the peaceful repose
of my sequin studded bones.

           *I have come to understand that
           this matter may never be settled.  
           I’d truly give anything for you
           to have  power enough to hold me
           in the middle, to hold me in
           the purple fog nothingness
           but I believe it tires you
           to prop up a puppet all day.
           You’d rather love me in each moment
           which is the truest love there is
           and that makes me the luckiest
           man on the face of the Earth.
Piazza San Pietro = St Peter's Square, the Vatican
Reliquary = A shrine for the storing of religious artifacts, especially relating to saints
Philatory = A box in a reliquary with a glass top or side for viewing the boxes contents

For more information check out this link, I promise it is worth a look!

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2413688/Incredible-skeletal-remains-Catholic-saints-dripping-gems-jewellery-
dug-Indiana-Bones-explorer.html
 Jan 2014 Amy Grindhouse
dj
It's a lot like the feeling
One of those times
When he'd not text me
Or call me back for a few days
Except,
This time lasts a lot longer

Like a breakup
Except,
Neither one of us specified a
breaking point

I don't want to move on though
'cause
that means I did it without you

And we do everything together.
We go everywhere together
I'll go anywhere with you

And the clouds in your eyes
The sun in your smile
Your meteorite soul
You've got me forever.
Rest in Paradise
 Jan 2014 Amy Grindhouse
Allisen
I don't know why I hate myself so much.
How can I loath the body I was gifted,
Cry over the sincereness of my very own personality.
How can I tear down the height of my happiness,
Look myself in the delusive mirror just to accept it's biting lies.
How can I break this beastly habit?
hot summer raindrops boil
like memories on my skin,
and i remember when
the wind helped destroy
the power surge within me.
i am pure electricity
and i hope i am strong enough
to cause a blackout
in the place
we stole small caresses:
the eye of the storm.
thunder booms and
i am consumed
more and more
with my loud tongue
and vapid thoughts;
not instinct,
but rather, taught.
i seemed to have forgotten
or lost the notion
that someone else could want me
in your sultry words,
sparked with lies.
i will keep the narcissism,
but you can close your eyes
against the onslaught
and get the **** out;
and no, i do not care
if you get soaked.
i have had enough
to know i do not
need you anymore
and that this
is only a joke to you.
i am a thunderstorm
and you will only drown
in the downpour.
the origins of this poem are the scalding hot shower I took this morning to try to numb myself for awhile
 Jan 2014 Amy Grindhouse
Jack
Zephyrs breach this cobble wall
Gusts of morning glory breezes
Swirl enchanting echoes about my weary mind
I reach for the top, pulling myself to my feet
So that I may see that which is calling
In gale force phrases of poetic vistas…finding me

“Hallucinating?”

Breathless, I lean on moss covered stone
Weakened by mystic dreams and sighed fragrance,
For the beauty which engulfs my sight
Of lavender reaches in ribbon’d flow,
Brush strokes of cocoa eyes smiling
Grasps my body, wrapping me in passion’d bliss…touching me

“Hypnotically”

“What magic is this?” I call out from the shadows
In wheezing voice of broken harmony
“Tis love,’ she whispers as my breath escapes
Clutching my chest in fevered emotions
Wide eyed dimensions course my now beaming face
As all of life has bloomed within my being…and I fall

“Hyperventilating”
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