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 Mar 2018 Skye Marshmallow
Tallie
what if we were flowers
floating in the wind
nothing special, no superpowers
we'd be up in the air where we twisted and spinned
what if we were trees
our branches stretch far and wide
we could live deep in the jungle where no one ever sees
a place where only the sky cried
what if we were leaves
constantly changing our skin
getting stepped on by thieves
laid upon the path on which we begin
 Mar 2018 Skye Marshmallow
Tallie
Be the colors that scream at you to look at them
Be the dress full of life with a torn hem
Be the feet that never stop dancing
Be the sailor looking through his binoculars, glancing
Be the wind that swirls with all its might
Be the blanket that provides warmth at night
Be the girl full of life
Don’t just be someone’s wife
Dreaming in colors
I didn't dream of before
Everything has a softer edge to it
No more sharp corners
No more crisp lines
Just you, and the colors of spring
Hues of soft, dusted skies
And deep, cold grass.
Long sunsets and dark mornings.
Why do you make me think of spring?
Or is spring my romanticism at play?
Why does the thought of you make me nostalgic
When i don't share that many memories with you yet?
It's like i'm floating in a world of nothing
While watching everything from afar.
My vision is coated in lip gloss
Sweet, sticky, and shiny,
Clouded over by the lollipop dreams
And cotton ball clouds.
This isn't how i think when i see you
But when you're gone, i get lost,
Drowning in the thought of what if’s,
Of ideals, and ideas that won’t exist anywhere else
Except for in my mind,
In my little, gloss coated world.
this is
where two points collide/
where a body meets a soul/
where that gold tint in the skyline
is a reminder of how a past lover’s hair
appeared in the sunlight.

this is the place where the sky falls;
sun, moon, stars, and clouds
hit the ground. they crash
and they burn.

the ocean spills out so many gentle words.
but like love tokens in the night time
they mean nothing when
what is done
is done.
we are what we are.
scarred and unmade.
messy and undone.

what is holy?
is it the way you hold your lips,
or the straightness of your spine?
the glistening of skin in the moonlight
or the kiss of sweat on your forehead?
or is that just human?

when did i ever
stop being able to tell
the true difference?

in this place where
our points collide
and our stars align
something
slants in our sky
and it falls/flies/forces itself
upon the horizon

inside our rear view
is something we’ll forget
leave the past behind

and the stars,
they shall follow.
A quiet mind - a quiet heart
'Twas autumn of the soul
A burnished leaf quickening in drift
Then rustling - stirred the fall
A riot most illustrious
Trilled from the tuneful tongue
Of free bird on the wizened bough
Love begging to be sung
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