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could there ever be another?
should anyone even try?
eloquently elaborating on social trends
in depends
older than dirt
shades matched in heaven
thinking back to David Greer
“Pennzoil” “Freedom”
lost in thoughts  
of America losing a legend
a hero
poetic goddess blessing us with her words
long enough for this mortal coil
she flies free now as only imagined in the quiet
no longer bound to reflect on injustice
almost a century of witnessing inequality
in the land of hope
is more than anyone should have to bear
today, may 28 2014, one caged bird sings a different song
when the sunlight
kisses my shoulder
i find myself wondering
if maybe
thats what your
lips feel like

but you are
not confined
to the light,
i feel you
even in the night

the harshest storms
are like sunshowers
because
youre the silver lining
in my downpour

(and i find myself
constantly
reaching out to you
for more)
 May 2014 Isabella Pullivan
nivek
the trees have reached higher
into the spaces of the sky
all that space to dream
to fill to fly to be
Slipping through my hands
time in sand
my weary dreary eyes
connect the dots of lies
the tears i've cried over the years gather up into my heart
no one can handle my watery love
why is that what mostly i have been thinking of
it’s unusual when radically i was content with being alone
in nothing flat i never want to be at home
anticipating the time to come when being alone has shown  gratification.
at the local library
books
separate
the victims
of home invasion
from those
researching
the doll’s
propensity
for drunkenness.

I stumble in, stumble out.
Actions are always demanded to be justified;
But people don't acknowledge that intentions are really the only thing that matter.
© hellopoetry.com/aesthetic
The fountains mingle with the river  
And the rivers with the ocean,  
The winds of heaven mix for ever  
With a sweet emotion;  
Nothing in the world is single,
All things by a law divine  
In one another’s being mingle—  
Why not I with thine?  
  
See the mountains kiss high heaven,  
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven  
If it disdain’d its brother;  
And the sunlight clasps the earth,  
And the moonbeams kiss the sea—  
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?
 May 2014 Isabella Pullivan
Klara
All I want to do is run,
run from my own demons
but they seem to know hiding places
in my body
that I didn't even know existed.
They have taken all
of what makes sense
and ruined my way
of thinking clear.

They make me want to run
from my own body
they make me want to crawl
out of my own skin.
My fingers are no longer
the creators of art
the soft touch of friendship.
They have turned into claws
clawing my skin open
to help me escape
my own body.
I know I can not **** what is way deeper than the skin
but I can start somewhere.
this came out way darker than I intended but I kind of like it?
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