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the job of the artist
is to be
luminous and dangerous

luminous to others
by being
dangerous to themselves

when the words are ripped from the chest,
atmosphere disbursed by the body’s projectile messes,
starburst fireworks,
luminous and dangerous,
luminating the shared night,
laminating your truths,
in poems disguised


and so the job,
our work,
begins
her tongue is a serpent
slithering slowly into my mouth
careful not to let the poison touch me

she tastes dangerous like smoke
and breath mints

i can feel her pumping through my veins,
coursing through my heart

she is now a part of me
 Nov 2018 Keith Mitchell
Kira
You're in love with her.
She's the kind of soft that makes the sun fall to its knees every evening just to get a closer glimpse.
She's everything that makes a boy believe in god.
How else could he be alive at the same time as her if he didn't?
The odds are too great for there to be any other reason that he gets to make her smile.
That kind of smile that's designed to melt boys like him that i've turned cold.
You thought I was her once.
Speaking of thoughts, do I ever cross your mind sometimes like you cross mine? Even if unintentional?
At night I accidentally love you like no time has passed.
I know it's just my unconscious mind, but while I sleep there's a version of you that loves me still.
You're a dream that I wish wasn't.
So it's the worst kind of accident you could say.
Maybe not accidental if gods real like you believe he is.
My dreams might possibly just be his way of saying "*******".
 Nov 2018 Keith Mitchell
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 Nov 2018 Keith Mitchell
N
" That's just me "

You’ll hear her say

" I am lesser than beautiful "
I refuse to believe that
I am of worth
What exactly am I?

A courageous soul who is unapologetically herself

Well, the truth is
I look in the mirror to only see
My reflections disappoint
No longer can I say that
My beauty radiates from within

now read from bottom to top
 Nov 2018 Keith Mitchell
haysia
She's ready.
He isn't.
She's willing to take the risk.
He isn't.

"I love you."
He whispered to no one
While watching her
Walk down the aisle
With her father
And him as a visitor.
Stolen by depression,
I’ve lost my best friend.
Your semi-colon is imprinted in my heart,
but still, I’m terrified you’re at your end.

Your silence speaks more than your words can say;
It’s only here that I know you’re alive.
Ever the beggar, I’ll take what I can get;
Through my heart, your secret words drive.

Will you recognize MY words?
Will you know I’m even here?
Can you see through my pen name?
Eventually, it will all become clear.

We knew I’d follow you anywhere
But that really wasn’t my goal.
Am I invading your privacy
The way you invaded my soul?
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