Let me write my books of poetry,
Sing into a microphone with no connection.
Let me wash my hair in the rain
As a means to get myself dry,
To find a connection;

To cleanse my skin with ancient water
That tiptoed the forest before Man.
Let me punch the code of my identity
Into the melody and not the spreadsheet.
Allow me to **** all the people

I was before I felt alive.
Old means for yesterdays,
Ends that caused me
To start over again.

Let me send letters to New England,
Let me drink coffee on the pedestal
Of a day spent sober-
Buckle of the grass in the wind,
Mind lost to cloud canopies
And transparent heartbeats.

Let me kiss a foreign tongue
To learn that all lies taste the same.
Let me take off my clothes
When I am alone, simply to remember
That I can.

Moon: a companion,
Windowsill vigils at dawn,
Medication for the side effect
Caused by the cure.

Let me wash up in the Jovian seas
When my feet are rooted to the Earth.
Let my mind pester the working day
With dreams for tomorrow,
With catastrophes blacklisted in the sky.

Let me write my books of poetry,
Songs of sadness with no tune.
All the feelings I forgot,
All the passion I outgrew.

Nights like these I wish I had someone to lay with.
To kiss, hold, and just be myself with.
I will lose myself within his abyss.
I know one day I'll find him.
His mind will be wonderful and his thoughts will stop time.
I will become addicted to his eyes and the way he sighs.
His heart will be pure and collide with mine.
His imperfections will seem perfect to me
He will let his mind run free.
I'll fall for his laughter and the way he sleeps
I'll show him how everything he hates about himself makes him beautiful but most importantly unique.
I will wait for the man who will hold my hand and stay away from the boys who treat girls like toys.
-Lily P. McLaughlin-

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not touch you
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth
As all things are filled with my soul
You emerge from the things
Filled with my soul
You are like my soul
A butterfly of dream
And you are like the word: Melancholy

I like for you to be still
And you seem far away
It sounds as though you are lamenting
A butterfly cooing like a dove
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not reach you
Let me come to be still in your silence
And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright as a lamp
Simple, as a ring
You are like the night
With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star
As remote and candid

I like for you to be still
It is as though you are absent
Distant and full of sorrow
So you would've died
One word then, One smile is enough
And I'm happy;
Happy that it's not true

I know not how to fix this,
Nor do I know how you feel.
I know not what you think about me,
I know not if this is real.

I do not know if its self imagined,
That we have something unsual.
Between the emotion of love and doubt,
Some sort of intense confusion.

Sometimes when you look at me,
Your eyes say it all.
They say "stay, i want you here"
But when you look away,
I fall.

Maybe someday I'll know how to fix this,
Maybe I do already but im in denial,
It maybe once im in love with someone else,
But I fear that wont happen at all.

Four old friends
Dead of winter small town
Germany.
Smoke rising from chimneys
From cigarettes, and pipes
From trains riding the rural rails
From city spires
And factories
From airplanes
Airplanes
and Airplanes,
From Airplanes.
Smoke dancing and laughing
Stinging and coughing
Smoke in my hair and jacket
In the pores of my skin
Smoke in my eyes,
Up the hill
And through the woods
Dead of winter
Small town Germany
Four old friends
Walk two by two
Three by one
Four and four.
Walk by the church,
Down the creek,
Up the hills, the hills
And through the woods
Small town
Germany four old friends
Dead of winter
Cigar smoke and beer
Cigarillos in a chain
Smoke from crystalizing breath
And fireworks
Smoke from bonfires
And tailpipes
Smoke from airplanes
Airplanes and airplanes
Smoke from airplanes.
Smoke stains and cigarette burns
Little circles in my jacket
Germany
Four old friends dead of winter
Small town
Smoke tears
Smoke promises
Smoke memories that linger
Like the faint nausea
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
I watch the **** end of your last cigarette
Crumpled and fading
In the ashtray of that Badischer bar
And your eyebrow twitched
The heart-wrenching shiver
Of what-the-hell-has-happened.
And I whispered:
(airplanes)
airplanes and airplanes
I whispered airplanes.
That’s what the hell.

To the man who fell in love with the sea
Come back to me, come back to me.

Who, in the waves found yourself free
Come back to me, come back to me.

Whose eyes lit wide like a banshee
Come back to me, come back to me.

You dove down seep and tried to see
The under-water majesty
You went down, down, I guarantee
Your love for the sea was much more than for me.

Come back to me,
*Come back to me.

When pain becomes an ocean my brain becomes a boat, i brave the waves that attempt to sink my ship then cope. Sirens sing in foreign places which i cannot see, im lost at sea. Now the cold has frosted me.

I found the voice that vocalized its seering pain by will, for some to find while others grind behind with lacking skill. She spoke with me her words of hearty wisdom helped me rise. I left my ship and ocean to became one with the skys.

Pain is getting old, nuisance slug
of toothpaste on a morning suit,
crest of daylight over dry eyes
at the first itch of addiction, processions
of commonplace panic begin
before the kettle comes to boil.

Pain ****** me like an alpha,
chained me to the kitchen sink. The brink
of insanity - messianic car-crashes, dead poets,
and cult leaders occupied our lives. Pain
lived inside, petroleum on fish-scale,
bone upon bone, a lie amongst lies.

Pain came to doctor the fairytale,
black-faced censorship, attention to detail
when forcing guilt under hysterical skies,
a cumulus jury, the persecution of 'I'.
Pain came to go over old grievances,
the people I knew, the friends that I missed.

Her lips taste like gold
And I smell lilacs on the wind
As a breeze brushes back her hair
She looks me in the eye
And traces a finger down my cheek
And along my jawline
Just to pull gently on my chin hair
She wraps her hands around my face
And pulls me in for a long kiss
No words need to be said
We were speaking with our souls
And I knew there was a reason for everything
In that moment