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All, nothing, or the next best thing
something, waiting, or living my dreams
They aren't black diamonds, just shiny black coal
Each with it's exception, each with it's hole.
two with their benefit, one with it's beast
none of them docile, and all filled with teeth.
Hungry and hurtful and all double-edged
And here i am standing, perched on a ledge
glance down, inhale, and take it all in
Too many ways i could lose, but only two I could win
So do i stand here still and stiff
or do i step, fall off this cliff?
I will write another page
to entertain, turns out this is a stage
and the audience isn't all the crowd that listens
(only a few of them pay attention)
to what i say and what i don't
the message i speak and when i leave ( )( )( )'s
In my words
If you care, you'll fill them in your self.
But i doubt you will, you're probably like everyone else
(if i expect it I can't be let down)
please, someone raise my expectations
It's not easy where I'm waiting
(because it's real, and real,real  low.
and
       the words
                         t
                           r
                              a
                               ­ i
                                   l

                                    d
                                   o
                                     w
                                     n
                                          the page,
                                                             like
                                                                dripping
                                                                               tears .
                                                                                              .
                                                        ­                                              .
                                                               ­                                          they
                                                                                                             probably
                                                                                                                       will .
                                                               ­                                                                    .
                                                             ­                                                                             .
                                                          ­                                                                                  for
                                                                                                                                               years.
I'll pretend that i forget
If you'll stop pretending you forgot
But you won't
so this is pointless
Just forget it
(It should come natural)
If you're the girl who will kiss all of the scars
left by the ones that came before you,
come closer,
I would like to say hello
(will you let me kiss yours too?)
If i said goodbye, who of you would say hello?
I i said that I was leaving, would you say that you would go?
would you remind me of the promises
that we made without our words
or would you walk away and leave me
pretend that you just hadn't heard
would you remember my voice and the many times i cried
would you forget our promises, could they really all be lies?
we talked of
Collaborations.
Pieces of poets
Put together.
In lines.
You spoke,
and asked
if I would like to.
What could I say
besides
an exhilarated yes.
But one I can’t quite place.
There was…
Some connection there.  
In that moment.
Honestly, I am glad for my uncertainty
In my giddiness’s origin.
And I doubt
One collaboration will be enough
I’ll definitely want more of them.
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