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Oh what a fight, push shove duck Dodge.

Miss count dance prounce, Oh what a fight.

Bob Weave trick up my sleeve, Oh what a fight.

Toss turn ive awaken, It was just a dream But, Oh what a fight.
I love to dream.
I MISS YOU SO MUCH MY HEART FEELS LIKE ITS PUMPING BURNING ACID THROUGHOUT MY BODY I MISS THE TASTE OF YOUR LIPS; CIGARETTES AND HONEY
I'm so sorry
I loved you a lot
I still do
But my words to you are cruel
You beg for me to stay
I'll try to ignore you at school
But my eyes can't drift away
I want to keep your heart
I want you to keep mine
This poison is tearing me apart
A gun shot to the spine
I won't leave
I promised forever and always
No more tricks up my sleeve
I'll love you for the rest of my days
I've got a war in my mind
 Dec 2014 Hunter Bacon
Natalie
do not date a girl
who writes.
she will internalize
everything,
carve poems
into your eyelashes
instead of
kissing them,

she will analyze you,
calculate age
from the rings
your coffee cup
leaves
instead of refilling it.

she will memorize
the way your
lips curl around steam,
but not that you
take it
two sugars,
no cream.

she will read your
palm instead of
holding it
against her chest.

she will not
blink
when you leave,
because she is
already
romanticizing it.
Lost in your mind
Your thoughts should be more kind
You are beautiful
You are amazing  
Don't deny
Open up your heart
And see yourself
As I see you,
Beautiful.

(k[r])
12/12/14 11:27 am
My face did not flourish with beauty
Not spoiled with glamour
My eyes told truth
While my mouth told lies

My heart beat was off
Always crashing down like a glowing white avalanche
Thumping like the drummer boy
On Christmas

My body did not spring up
Like a flower on a spring day
It wasn't a creamy color
Like the coffee you make on early Sunday mornings

I hair frail like a old women's bone
Not soft like criminson blood colored velevt rapped around a neck
Thick like a very hot humid summer day
Tangled like your Christmas lights in the basement

But I loved him more then tide who always came back to kiss the sand
More then the kite who effortlessly tried to reach the sky
Then the flower who designed its self in vivid bright colors
So the bees could find there way

Maybe I am the sun who rises every morning to just find the moon has left
12/12/14 11:51 am
I can't rightfully
Comment on the color of your eyes,
The swiftness of your thought
Without remarking
On the innocence flowing in your veins
And the worldliness
That's only been present
In drifter gods before you.
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