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 Sep 2015 Kenzie
abby
you, my dear, are absolutely insane
dreadfully bold and clicking your heels,
waltzing through struggle and skating on water.
your madness is alluring,
your strength terrifying.
you taste like wine and smell like thunder
i think you most certainly grew wings
last summer
         because
                you're
                      soaring.

*(a.m.c.)
 Sep 2015 Kenzie
Got Guanxi
Oh Marilyn Monroe,
you were married to the stage show.
The baggage you carried made you run from home,
into the arms of Joe DiMaggio.

How could they of known?
The demons in your mind,
hidden inside the beauty that you portrayed on the outside.

They say revenge is dish best served cold,
but some like it hot.

Oh Marilyn,
you must of forgot.
*Marilyn Monroe*
Silence- complete absence of sound.

It's funny,
How they think silence,
means you can't hear a thing.

But you can hear silence.

It's so fricking loud.
You really can't miss it.
 Aug 2015 Kenzie
JWolfeB
Arctic dust
 Aug 2015 Kenzie
JWolfeB
Darkness engulfs the morning
Letting the sun rest for a simple moment
Slighting the thought of commitment

On the edge of the earth
The arctic circle spins madly in love
Tilting the earth drunk

Just enough to admit she is shy
That attention never came easy
Going unnoticed
Tucked under the drab sky
Only 3 hours of sunlight each day here in the Arctic circle. It is an interesting thing to adapt to.
 Aug 2015 Kenzie
Della Sun
Gold and silver in the night
Texaco sign burning bright.
There's freedom in her lies,
there's summer in her eyes.
She's far away now
cartoon lips, bottle blonde and how?
She sells her soul, crying.
Claiming she's happy and yet she's lying.
In the Sunset Boulevard,
she's living fast and playing hard.
Light up that sequin dress
in the spotlight and smoke, god bless.
Bless her young life, having fun.
Just drive till dawn in the sparkling midnight sun.
She says "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
She's slowly dying, drowning in the risen moonshine.
The girl with the Arctic Mind, left behind and she's doing time.
Broken down dreams are the crime.
Acrylic paint and golden curls
in the pink light, she dances and twirls.
Lives her life on,
depending on his paper love and his con.
Furs, diamonds and thick smoke,
happiness for her is turning out to be a sick joke.
She was the girl with the Arctic Mind.

— The End —