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 Nov 2014 Dallas Allen
Love
"Those kids are a bad influence on you,
They'll only drag you down."
That may be true,
But I don't have much of an option in this town.

"You're getting a bad rep: people are saying you're a *****,
You stay with those kids you're gonna burn in hell."
What makes you so sure?
Do you have my life put together better than I do in a perfect little nut shell?

Why must you be so quick to judge,
My friends, and me guilty by association,
When we are only but a nudge,
Away from self annihilation.

The facts are the facts,
And the truth is the truth,
But the fact is I can give then something they lack,
Love and hope without the ruth...
Less...ness...

**** it. Yall will never understand.
Consider me guilty by association.
 Nov 2014 Dallas Allen
Hannah
If I had written this 2 years ago (or maybe even a month ago) I’d say my perfect man had to look a certain way, talk a certain way, and to act a certain way. He would have had to worship the goddesses in my laughter, and be able to unlock the parts of me I’d hidden away.

But as I grow older, the days seem shorter and I know that at one point I wanted a man with stars in his lungs and galaxies in his eyes, who could fill in all the cracks of my broken soul, but now I just can’t say that’s true.

Because darling, you don’t look the way I imagined my perfect man, but I couldn’t imagine myself with any other body on this world. The way our fingers intertwine in that funny sort of way because mine are so small and always a little too cold, and yours are long and always a little too warm, and the way my head always bumps against your shoulder when we walk because you’re just 3 inches short of being a whole foot taller than me. No, our bodies weren't destined to fit each other. But every time I see yours across the room walking towards me, I get enough nervous butterflies to fill the extra inches, and warm my shaky hands.

And sweetheart, you don’t always show me the love I wish you would; your words aren't always what I’d hope they’d be. Often our conversations don’t go as I planned them to. But I won’t forget the nights I lay awake thinking about the way your un-wished, unplanned words caused me to believe in something more than physical attraction. The way my smile felt like it was going to split my face in two, and the way I laughed even though nothing was particularly funny.

Kid, you never really act the way I want you to, and honestly that’s my favorite thing about you. You are nothing like me, you walk with confidence, like every room is lucky to hold your footsteps. You speak loudly and without inhibitions, because your mind isn't plagued with the fear of others as mine is. And that scares the daylights out of me, but it is impossible to remain invisible when I walk with you. The way you take my hand, and force me forward as if to say, “Yes, I am here, but she is too.”

No, you don’t look, talk, or act the way I imagined my perfect man.

Because you are not the man of my dreams, you are my entire world.

-h.w.
Oh, I am so in love
 Nov 2014 Dallas Allen
Love
I'm waterproof
Standing under His waterfall.
Remember how I used to love you?
Did everything you wanted me to,
Killed myself inside for the likes of you?
Well..  I'm f-cking through
Through thinking about you
Dreaming about you
Crying tears with your face in the reflection
Finding your stuff when I turn any direction
Hoping it was all a dream
Not as bad as it seemed


But the truth is...
You taught me more than I ever cared to know about you and now that I'm actually through, I've realised you made me stronger and more sure than ever before.

Thank You for all the things you didn't do
I'm sure you'll Never Forget
*The Girl Who Loved You
There's some leftover gasoline
A few ashes too          
          Inside my heart
From the last loser      
Who tore me apart
                You could use that          
       To light a fire in my soul
               Just grab a match      
     Make a tiny little spark
       Love me right    
Brighten my heart              
Keep my flame burning
   Treat my love
Like priceless art              

*All you need to do
Is breathe oxygen in my vicinity
To keep it lit
 Nov 2014 Dallas Allen
ryn
\      .     /
   \   .    ^       /.. 
  =      <   •   >    =  
         /        V       \         
/  /
\ \
  | |
   \ \
   /  /

••••••••••
••••••••••
sparking at the end
•eating away at my wick•
forcing me into a backward bend•
now by the second I tick...•I am truly
seething•I am... TNT•I am so close to
exploding...•I am...incendiary•it feels
like a crime•but..............there isn't left
much room•it's just a matter of time•
before I finally decide to go...fizz...
fzzzs...sszz...fizzle...ssszzfzz...
KABOOM!
TEBABOH!
As i walked the lengthy distance,
from the back row seat to the first.
I began to sense right then...
my project would be the worst.
Yet all the time i put in,
i figured I'd pass with a low B
and still as i walked that distance .
I knew it'd be a lower than a C...
listening as each person shared,
Their truly real short story...
i fidgeted and wiggled..
and really started to worry.
The teacher said to write
what came to mind.
Like childhood or family...
to make it one of a kind.
And yet somehow my mind still wandered
to a place still unknown...
i wrote about a womans death...
And how death had claimed the throne.
In English class i shared that project
in the front of that small space...
i read each word that i had typed,
not a syllable out of place.
When i was done my head was low,
i refused to meet their stare.
I sauntered back quietly
To my lonely back row chair.
It was then i saw my teacher smile
and simply nod his head,
it seems that my project was viewed
As a painful loss of the dead.
Little do they know,
i did not relate...
that story that i wrote...
was simply notes by my dinner plate...
english funny death throne teacher class
My mind is like abstract art tinted in many colors of red,
like my heart blew apart, splintering, puncturing now I am dead,
like horrid lamentation smeared with tears of the barely alive,
like a hungry nation spoon fed to think they can no longer strive,
like a child who attempts jumping the hurdles but ends up hurt,
like a man who repents only to realize he never got burnt.
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