I like the way your nose flairs when you laugh
And the way your lip quivers
I like how you stand
And how your words flow like the rivers
Your smile gives me butterflies
In your eyes I become lost
I want to be yours
I’ll keep my fingers crossed
Poor, poor, girl.
Frightened of her own shadow.
So I turned her around.
To face the Sun.

© Pagan Paul (2017)
 Oct 2017 Eric L Warner
I’m 5’9”, loud and strong. 

I’ve got big hair, perfect brows and a straight back.

I radiate confidence, sexuality and metaphorical ***** as my curvy hourglass figure walks with purpose down the street.

My attitude says “There’s nothing I can not do.”

My eyes say “You wanna fight? I’m ready.”

To them, I’m a lioness. 

I protect all that is mine — except from myself. 

Behind the facade, I am small. 

Behind my words, I am afraid. 

Behind my sunglasses, my eyes are wet. 

And under my luxury lingerie, I am *****, just like my soul is when I’m writing.

I’m not who they think I am, are you?
 Aug 2017 Eric L Warner
I'm seriously considering blowing my brains out,
Gray matter that used to hold my consciousness
now plastering the walls behind my carcass.
       Blood Art,
a new cultural norm for an over populated planet.
Euthanasia be dambed lets ****
the innocent,
the consumer,
the ******.
I could cure this planet of all it's problems
if only I had more ink in my pen
and more shells in my Shotgun
 Jun 2017 Eric L Warner
They tried to break me, but this

blood that runs in me, is made of ink.

And these unbreakable bones, are made of poetry.

 Nov 2016 Eric L Warner
 Nov 2016 Eric L Warner
I need someone who wreaks of cannabis
A guy with moscato sitting on his lips
With the stress of nicotine on  his mind
And the threat of bankruptcy in his kiss
One who makes it snow when he sniffs
And lets me go when he finally quits
 Oct 2016 Eric L Warner
there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard

there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging

somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth

there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach

there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance

there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.
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