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Miki Apr 2015
I'm just waiting for something
that takes my breathe away
something beyond shredded
couch cushions and New Jersey TV
I want to see Mountains in the fullness of their splendor
I want these dirt roads to mark the place
where I first made love to a boy who broke my heart
I want to see the sky from eye level
without crying because I'm afraid of heights
I want to swim in water so deep
That the sharks get scared to dive there
I just want to be fearless
irrationally brave
unbelievably foolish
because my whole life up until now
has been so practical
Lack luster
uninspired
its hard to find a muse
in polos and khakis
and I'm tired of being tired
of doing nothing
Miki Apr 2015
I think I write
because
my whole life
I've been told
to stop talking
and I'm
BURSTING
with things to say
I cant remember anyone ever enjoying hearing me talk. Never have I met someone who didn't tell me I talked too much.
  Apr 2015 Miki
Claire Elizabeth
The sunlight filtered in waves as bright as the hope in her eyes
Clouds had been cast away and for once the blue of a new sky shone
Like diamond
I'm listening to a new album and it's so beautiful. I'm probably going to be writing a lot of poems based on these songs.
Album is: Oblivion Hymns ( by Hammock)
  Apr 2015 Miki
Julie Butler
there's a slow burn in her words
I've come familiar with drawls
I watch your voice turn to coffee
I sip from your jaw
I'm not thirsty, just nervous
speaking in black caffeine tongues

"I'll fiend before it starts
& I'll feel clean after it's done"

cause you can't run from the two lungs
catching breath after breath

& you can't squeeze life back from death
if it is dead
then it is dead
Miki Apr 2015
Dot
2 am coffee rings on my bedside table
procrastination at the expense of a letter grade
Nana's hand-stitched quilt has never felt so soft
But her funeral hit me hard
That quilt draped over her coffin
matched the color scheme
of the one she made for a little girl
who love butterflies and spring time
I remember pool side juice boxes
stuffed animals from a pretty lady
she was nice to me
her mom was mean to her
she cried at the funeral
Nana was a better mother to her than
her own ever dared to be
her sister found cigarettes
shes so thin now
I remember her lipstick
its always been red
it looks so red on her skin
the color of the ash
that falls from her stick
matching the skin of Papa
Nana's son
He sang at her funeral
He cried the whole time
Everyone cried
Not me
but I cant cry
Jade Green words
she read them
spotty reading with bad rehearsal
but I remember
her and I and him and my brother
juice boxes
quilts
that pool
its all her
and
I wish I had known her well enough
to miss her
My Nana's funeral was today. Her quilt is still in my room. She made us a few. It means a lot more now that im out of chances to thank her for it.
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