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 May 2014 SofterSadness
kenye
Maybe she's born with it
Maybe she's been manipulated
Maybe she's more than just a pretty face

Whatever that smile meant
or if it was as half-angelic
as i thought it

Or if she meant to grace my lonely
finger tips

Maybe she's the muse
Who's harp I should be plucking
heart strings for

Maybe she's the missing music
To drop the the four back on the floor

To beat my  
heart with her holy hands

To cross the first threshold
A call to adventure
to the heart beaten path

Rendezvous

A meeting with the Goddess
She's my Hepburn
burning up my *****
in the smoking
little black
(un)dress

to bring that light back again

Maybe it's all in my head
Maybe she keeps me stimulated
Maybe baby girl keeps me born again
I met a girl and she makes me think in metaphors.
because i see in colors,
and you shut your eyes in grey.

because you said
you loved me,
but you loved her
and her
and her.

i did not fall for you,
but my tears
did not listen
and fell for you anyways.
you would have thought i would've learned after the first boy.
The silence of your calm washed over me like a wave

half thoughts

reaching down your sleeves only to meet disappointment with a knife cutting us in places we fear the most

but in those moments
I see you see me

waiting to leave or reappear

 Where is your mind where you are going?

you left your impression
in the trees
and faces of others (I know and have yet to know)

setting up
unavoidable loneliness,
(the way a landscape can only tell you
all the things you've been thinking)

you leave me
things when you're
l e a v i n g
but

even at the bottom of everything
I find you there
alone too

— The End —