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I know you’ve been struggling
To keep it together
Whenever the weather changes its mood
I know you’re out here wishing
You were on the moon
With no reaction to change
The wind blows with force
To move on to its next destination
And away it goes

I wish you could talk to me
The way you talk to your pillow
Always wondering why you’re so alone         When you don’t allow me in
When you hurt the most

So what’s holding you down?
You can blame the whole world
For the way you are
This and that
I’m so happy and now I’m sad
And my rain clouds form
When I see you like that
I wish I could do something
I wish I could take it all away
But my ship is sinking
And you’re the one to blame
 Jul 2021 Johnnyqu33r
Brett
Only here till’ morning, so the night’s an open road and,
the beaten path only leads to mourning. An off-road traveler,
who escapes the chase of a pursuant sun.

Slow walking through river reeds.
A cupped handful of running water reinforces his state of being;
all but free.

Marathon of miles between, the first date on his gravestone and
the last number his mother reads at the bottom of his eulogy.
The hyphen shorthand for life and,

Missing the meaning through the seams, that connect his first day
to the day he leaves. An often-bereaved purveyor of shattered dreams,

Who stops to smile at every waving tree because,
even in despair he found belief beneath
the bared teeth of the machine trying to syphon from his peace.

A flower born from concrete.
Escaping through the cracked city streets;
out past the horizon line.
The dash between dates, holds all our memories. Tip-toeing on the edge of a tightrope.
blistering miami heat
tracing vermillion with keys
you don't know what you do to me
you have nothing to do with me
drowsy eyes fade off to sleep
eyelashes twitching with dreams
i am nowhere to be seen
but you are the center of my fantasies
as you sink into the leather seat
unaware of my misery
and the increasing speed
fast asleep
I’d rather watch you
watch fireworks than
watch fireworks.
 Jul 2021 Johnnyqu33r
cal
I really hope this kills me
Existence is a night sky
And Freedom is a shooting star
But I’ll shoot for the moon
And meet you at Mars
There's not much to say about Monday that hasn't already been said.
at 3am I was lying in bed, listening to the rain and thinking to myself, yes, it's Monday again.

I'm not thinking now, not after two cups of strong Joe with sugar in to make the blood flow and thoughts go wherever thoughts go when you're not thinking.
Banksy
probably painted the sky today, it's a mash-up of a
battleship grey, a one-off unique where the sun plays
hide and seek,
not much to say about Monday.
V's
Viral Vixens Vicariously Vigilant
Venturing through Vibes and Visions
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