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 Apr 2018 Heavenly
Ineffable Soul
As the sun sets,
It gently caresses her face
And her freckles,
Mimic stars
With plenty of zodiacs to trace
All the while,
Her eyes entwine into galaxies
Infinite stories in place

And all I want to do
Is just stare in awe
Wonderstruck,
Sensing each and every heart beat race
No description can ever do justice.
 Apr 2018 Heavenly
Kalliope
I remember bottling up the beach for you since you've never been.
To you it's just sand.
It was more than just sand to me
 Apr 2018 Heavenly
Jack Jenkins
I can no longer write;
My fingertips are lethargic, connected
to a paralyzed heart that wishes to no longer beat;
breathing is too painful to him.

I can no longer pray;
My faith is a stained mess, she has been
circumnavigated by every sin, plagued by depravity and apathy;
breathing is too painful to her.

I can no longer live;
My life is dead, outlined in chalk
Joy left me, love betrayed me, fate destroyed me;
breathing is too painful...
 Apr 2018 Heavenly
Weasel
there was a boy in the elevator
who smelled like you

it had been a long day
and my head was full of smog
and my stomach was already
eating away at my insides
like acid

i knew it wasn't you
you never come here
and he was too short and skinny
and he didn't have your face

but even after all this time
i smelled a boy who smelled
like your cologne

and suddenly it was you
with your head on my shoulder
me inhaling deeply
because i used to love your scent
so much i'd steal your shirts
and wear them during class
and hold the sleeve over my nose
to remember you

i didn't have time to think
i didn't have to
the human sense of smell is weak
and rarely useful
but it carries memories
better than any other vector

my heart beat faster
the smell seemed to take up
all the air in the confined space
and the noises bounced around
like ping pong *****

and from deep within my gut
on a two floor elevator ride
came the fear that i associate
with you
for my abusive ex
 Apr 2018 Heavenly
ms reluctance
Feed me a story –
I feel hollow
listening to the wind
work itself to a storm.

While we wait for the rain,
spin me one of your tales;
something wholesome,
with sweetness that will linger.

Soothing clichés
to slake my restive mind.
Although your voice is solace enough.

I have so much to say to you
but I haven’t yet 
mastered the skill
to undress my convoluted thoughts
to their bare essence.

So tonight,
under the swollen sky,
talk to me
about anything,
and everything –
keep me company.
NaPoWriMo Day 14
Poetry form: Free verse
 Apr 2018 Heavenly
Gabriel burnS
An angel fell because… (skip gender-”biased pronouns” here or anonymize with asterisk lunacy) wings were in conflict… the left one anxiously ***** equality, not knowing that would mean a lack of lift and loss of aerodynamic quality… the right one, weaponized, stiffly resolved, glides over the notion that all feathers should be attached talons, even though it doesn’t make sense to fight gravity with sharpness…
And so the angel split with Grace and tumbled… eventually lost the race to inertia… another force to add up to internal struggle and its intensifying pressures...
 Apr 2018 Heavenly
Rsebd
There’s residue on my torso, dark twisted and tainted by blood.
I’ve seen this once before, convinced that I would never be here again
The aesthetics are casualties of war.
I’ve lost control of the cannon in my chest.
I hadn’t thought of my first boyfriend in years.
The way everything was new and he never felt silly when I asked him to dance in the  rain, even though I felt silly. The way he knew I loved when his cologne lingered on my clothes because I crawled into a space between his arm and his body.
I remember crying in the diner by my house late at night,
we were just friends, two years after we broke up but he always made me feel a warm sort of comfort, he always made me laugh when I was mad and he always managed to make me mad on my best of weeks. He was scared of going up to Georgia alone. I, naively confused, asked why would he go to Georgia alone. When I repeated the word army, it left a bitter taste on my mouth, did’t quite roll off the tongue like home. Like our small, loud city was home. Like when he biked to my house in the rain was home. Like going to the Colombian Bakery where worked, was home. Like he was home.
Except, my home was leaving, and when he asked me to go,
I cried, held onto him and said no, said I have a boyfriend who doesn’t love me like home does and my life is just starting.
That was 8 years ago. I’m 23 now. Made the same mistakes repeatedly. Changed my entire life and started over. Reinvented myself every time I rented the heart of a man who was not home. My home lives in Honolulu, has traveled the world, changed into a man who still has that wide smile I loved. My co-worker mentioned how certain smells remind her of certain people and asked if I agreed. I hadn’t thought of that boy, whose Kenneth Cole Reaction still lingers on my old high school uniform, in years. Told her certain smells remind me of a place I always found comfort in. I wonder if he knows he will always have a home here, always have a place to stay in my heart. I will leave the door open and when he picks up to leave again, I will say you are always welcome here, to this little corner of the world, where nothing exciting ever happened, but you will always be loved.
 Apr 2018 Heavenly
Joel M Frye
The boxes
which keep my blood clean
are stacked as tall as I,
a monument
in the spare room
to past battles.
Too many words,
too many thoughts
******* in the
hand-to-hand combat
with mortality.

No more.

What life I have
will not be defined
by an indeterminate end.

I live to write poems;
I will no longer die in them.
Camus knows.
 Apr 2018 Heavenly
Nimbus
I can no longer hide
My soul ignited

once disparaged
I long to share it

The chills in my spine put into words

Lips on skin
Eyes filled with sin

What is this sensation

I drip colors you cannot see

Heightening my passion
Enhancing my touch

Raw emotion channeled as such

My desire aches
The color of flush
My cage breaks
Expressions of lust

I do not fear it
I can hear you blush

My favorite sound

Our souls combust
My restless soul longs for something fulfilling
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