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 Apr 2015 Rachael Grace
Lahela
If I am only a chapter in your story book...

I am the height of the adventure.
I may not be the light at the end of the tunnel,
But I am rising tension with the quotes that you wish you wrote,
And the kind of love that you'll find on the lips and fingertips of every character,
but won't be able to find in the real world.

Perhaps you're in love with fiction.

Perhaps that's what I am.
His warmth I love
Though never touched
Cause suns still burn
From far away

He'd hear my thoughts
Though never speaks
But silence talks
In many ways

Oh how I'd love
To have him near
To talk even
For just a day

But I know well
As dreams reveal
When I come to
That he's not real
.....
...
.

how cunning
this tiny trickle of red
how horrid
this leakage of the dead

don't look at me
with plump red lips
go hide and flee
I might not resist

in dark-ruby richness
it lures the foggy mind
in acrid taste of thickness
it tempts our undead kind

pulsing in the wrist
the scent of human juice
our bloodlust is a feast
an ancient broken truce

so hold your breath
and gaze into my eyes
oh what a shame
a vestal sacrifice

close your eyes
your dreams will end tonight
you will rise
a graceful grandiose sight

.
...
......
blood! gimme blood! haha
 Apr 2015 Rachael Grace
Leseywut
You said you were a vampire
Burning like fire

There were stars in your eyes
Like the dark skies

You held out your arm
You mean no harm

The sun burns your skin
Slowly and slowly

Tuck your arms in again
Cause you actually felt the pain

I see bags under your eyes
I can see no lies

You haven't slept in nights
Am I right?

But, no, you're not a vampire
You're my sapphire

Bright red
Much has been said

You know I love you
Do you love me too?

You're my vampire and sapphire
Let me light your fire

It's you I desire.
 Apr 2015 Rachael Grace
asija
New York City is where
I most like to be.
It’s as noisy as a
Room full of bees.

When I’m there ,
I walk like a bunny.
Fast and quick hurrying
In the streets

People talking and
Walking.
Horns blasting and
Clicking.
The smell of gas
Filling the air.

Oh New York City
You are the best city.
You are even better
Than Italy!
Similie and metaphor poem!
Secretly we touch
Such ache and sorrow waiting
Eyes under lashes
 Apr 2015 Rachael Grace
Charlie
A city on fire,
Passion burning in its soul.
Everyone in love.
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