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  Feb 2016 Maple Mathers
Maxwell
I see nothing
but you
&
You see
everything
but me
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
I traveled down that pathway
I leveled my demise
My nose was an express train
Aiming for the skies. . .

I headed towards the house of crust
I swallowed all that white
Disguised within a golden husk
I crumbled with delight

I lay the rabbit on the spot
I crushed it with my rock
Up the hole, into the brain
The rabbit goes to flock

I chase it deep within my mind
I’d play with it forever
It snakes and weaves around the line
My smile, the true endeavor.
Musings born betwixt the crux of addiction, and the shackles of Avoidant Personality Disorder; documented by the poster-child for both.

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
I need a fix
I need a line,
Boy, I don't need
Your Valentine.
I had feelings once.

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
  Feb 2016 Maple Mathers
Dead lover
Can't the rain, hear our pain-

To shower again,
When meet the lovers insane?

And drain the strain,
Inculcated by their brains?
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
Just a Game. . .

In the comfortable stockade of my mind
Hide and seek cannot be won
Tip­toe away and find a hollow,
The solitary spot
Slipping between turmoil
Festering in alcoves
Always waiting; back tensed,
Adrenalin sheathing the silence
If I remain undetected
Perhaps the seeker will ease off,
Forget the ollie ollie in comfree
Leave me stowed away.
Much later, I could creep into safety
Call a truce, change spots...
Yet unmarred, the same old rules;
Vicious whispers that ask of unknown.
Meaningful glances and gritted teeth,
The shock of lush green eyes chasing down memory lane.
Wake up, Maple. Wake up.
But I wouldn’t, and it didn’t matter.
Because the stabbing whispers would continue inside;
Dueling emotions I long ago left at bay.
Reside there, waiting.
Counting.
Watching.

*Ready or not,
Here
We
Come.
(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016.)
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
As a footnote, I’ve always held a certain regard for those plentiful fruits. Raspberries. Small and juicy and sweet. Quick and easy.

Now, it’s apples on the other hand I heavily despise.

To eat an apple is to make a commitment. Society generally frowns upon those who eat half an apple, just to toss out the rest. And most people are not exactly bargaining for your leftovers once they’re brown and teeth marked. Apple eating is a long and rigorous ordeal. Halfway through, the raw parts begin to stain or dry and when you’re finally finished, you’ve still got to deal with that core and the skin that’s stuck in your teeth. Herein, apples and commitments become synonymous. Convenience, the antonym.

Raspberries, however, are miniature, and zesty, and only last for a matter of seconds.

**Not unlike ideal high school relationships.
An excerpt from my novel - Pretense.

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016.)
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