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If you told me
you cared
I wouldn't
believe you.
I wish I was
sober enough
to kiss you
properly
 Dec 2014 Indigo Morrison
lauren
i will stop writing poetry like a eulogy when you start making me feel alive
The metal in this brass knuckle heart
punches my chest from the inside out

The valves, a semiconductor for the static
electricity of your touch

Who ever thought a defibrillator could be so soft?

And in the challenge of this love
I wonder what kind of mettle you're thinking
of now

And I think patience is found
on a molecular level inside the iron
in your blood

And love then, a stone ground down
from your ashes

I mean, pressure and heat are
what diamonds are made from

Tell me again of the struggles you shone through

And through that logic, we are precious stones
but so much softer than that

I want to hold you like the focused light
from a jeweler trying to make a sale
but so much more earnest than that

And what of the contradiction
between hardness
and softness

Because there is you

How can you be so hard
and so full of life?

How can you be so beautiful?
 Dec 2014 Indigo Morrison
PamelaH
By 7pm I will get dressed in my night gown
And leave the window open
Like some corny movie form the 70’s
I will hope you climb through my window and make love to me

By 8:30 I might turn on the news and mute the TV just to pretend I care about the world

At 9 I will turn my phone off, after checking 337 times if you have texted back
When suddenly realizing you have not
I will open the bottle of wine that’s hidden in my closet

By 10:30 I will probably be too drunk to realize I am drunk
So I will turn my phone back on
And realize love life is lacking
Or life at all

By 11 you will have turned your phone off
Probably annoyed at woman who keeps ringing
Me

By 11:15 I will surrender into my room
Probably too drunk to stand on my own
I will turn computer on and begin typing

It’s 12:14 now.


Wondering if sheep count drunk women as they fall asleep
Never been so attracted
to one being.
Wildly attracted
to traits of many,
always fleeting.
So many rolled
into one man
leaves me speechless,
intrigued and fiending.
He mirrors my lunacy,
and my fiery independence,
our duality.
Water bearers
pour streams
adjoined from
the heavens, unencumbered.
After years of finding
the streams gravitating
into one,
we ditch a gourd.
Our fingers intertwined
under the neck
and the base of
the remaining one.
Our eyes mingle mysteriously
each morning,
and when they find stars
they get to pouring.
"Man on the Moon" series. 9/20/14 Dominant aspects of our emotional sides of our Natal chart we share (moonchildren, cancers) and strong commonality of being weirdos (Aquarius ). The thing I love the most that my past love embodied, he keeps hold of independence with a death grip except for when it sneaks out from under him. A good example for me to not hand over my power along with my love unconditionally. Us ending has brought about everything we've needed to see.. I could never fall out of love easily, but I can take notes. It's survival of the fittest out there and I'm scurred so I lunge. Not at some one, u kno, the kind to mold my ***. Anyway, back then when I was love drunk writing this, I thought it was so silly and a result of fantasmical wishes. I see now this vision painted in my mind come alive before it ever found words is a perfect demonstration of our shared skill of clairvoyance or rather shared-vision. I see from afar this symbolism is loosely demonstrating our shared vision (ditching a gourd is working past differences and holding unbreakable perfect vision, to me at least looking back, we are holding God, pouring the wisdoms of truth. Drink tha drank its good for you. I kno now how important shares vision and good faith in a relationship is detrimental to my own romantic happinesses. This man blessed my life. God sent this one and he will send another.
 Dec 2014 Indigo Morrison
marie w
HE GRABBED HER FACE AND
PULLED HER IN LIKE SHE WAS
HIS ONLY REMAINING SOURCE
OF LIVING, LIKE SHE WAS THE
GRAVITY KEEPING HIM ON EARTH
m.w.
coffee permeates a room
in a peculiar way
like rain through an open
window in the winter

the sound of your heels
hitting the floor rings
like my brain pounds away
at the walls of my skull

my stomach hurts and
the phantom of you
is easing the pain,
I feel a tender hand
upon my skin
but it isn't enough

it's not that feeling
of my lips on yours

it's not the circumference
of the pleasure principle
found with the arms
around the waist

I long with greed and
beg with need and I
am a sitting duck to
the sort of woman
who looks and acts
a lot like you do now

I don't think you realize
just what you have done
lol
For every tear
That falls from your
Blistering Blue Eyes
I will tell you that
“I love you, my dear”
For every cut
That you make upon
Your pale fragile skin
I will kiss your scars
In hopes that you will feel again
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