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I find myself free falling
pulled by gravity
watching the ground slowly sneak up on me
and if I knew a way to slow my fall
maybe it would be your arms
that caught my all
but you seem disinterested
distracted by the sky
I'm just another spec of dust
something that's in abundace to find
But then again, maybe I'm not.
Oh God!
We **** love in the name of religion.
 Jan 2015 Parker Louis
Manda Lise
Swallow that pride, do not fear to let it go
Chin up, march along little solider, march on
Indistinguishable laughter eventually ceases
Until a glory burns up, freeing you from the pressure.
Doubting your character, it will subside,
So long as it is permitted.
Fly your new colors, paint your new pictures
Not a muttered melody of melancholy,
Tangled twists of truth will rise above all other thoughts
To slap you right in the face.
Listless days of the past seem a folly,
When your true potential is cast upon reasoning.
written August 2011
 Jan 2015 Parker Louis
Manda Lise
She always wore mismatched socks because,
Well why not wear them?
The excitement in her eyes constantly could never really fade,
Until it did fade and it’s gone now.
Where did she go, where did she leave to?
The girl who lived in a pumpkin, with unthinkable *****,
Who laughed the loudest at every joke,
Even if it wasn't that funny, but wanted to make the person telling it feel good.
Where is she now, what has become of her?
She walks around uncertain about the way her life goes,
When she is perfectly capable of figuring out the puzzle.
She would drink out of goblets to be apart from the norm,
And because they looked "cool" in her hands.
She would skip around to get to her destination,
Just for the fact that walking was overrated.
Her persona is fading away, the quintessential girl everyone knew is still there,
But inside she is falling into a slump.
How can she be reunited with her old self, when all that is in front of her,
Is beginning to change?
Everything is starting to become clear, but it will hurt others,
How can she accept the change is for the better,
When she's been so accustomed to what has become of her life?
Written October 2010
Knead your problems into dough
none of them can survive
at 375 degrees Fahrenheit

When you wake up late
add one chocolate chip
for every minute of morning you missed
take out one chocolate chip
for every time you are unkind

A teaspoon of sugar
for every crumb
that he left on your eggshell heart
a tablespoon of salt
for each time you’ve missed the way
his callused hands felt on your voice box

Drift away on clouds of flour
float down rivers of vanilla extract
a dozen cookies for every time you’ve flinched
at the sound of your own breath

On your knees
burn your throat
watch the cookies resurrect
flush to decompose.
I
live
the
poetry
that
I
cannot
write..
It is pretty hard to interpret day to day life in such a short statement..but here it is..! #life #short #simplicity
 Jan 2015 Parker Louis
y i k e s
when the sky gets dark


and the joy is tucked in for the night,


it does not mean,


it won't come back

*tomorrow

— The End —