He said normal things wernt working
What makes those other colors perfect
Work with me/dont try and force it
I am a brakeless vehicle slowing/
coasting

Open up the windows let the ocean in
Rain falls from such great heights
You fell from the bed , into the light
Do they even consider you still alive
The morhpine , is it working ?

While we walk under sheets of rain
No words hanging between us
Do not think this is serene
Every drip hit and crack detritus

While we walk under shades of hemlocks
Capsized in escaping rays
Never step on droughts
They don't belong in the phrase

While we say this gonna last
But do not even try
Never let tears fall onto grass
You know why we don't take up fights

While we're stuck in blank
I promised you won't slip
And I went down in a bang
Just before a deer could leap

We sat in front of that computer screen
arguing whether we should type in Comic Sans or Times New Roman,
ended up in laughs
ended up decoding Webdings cussing
I typed in for you and vice versa

I make a point of wearing silver instead of gold when I can
Because gold is first place
Everyone wants to be golden
So many poets agree sunset and dawn
Are the most beautiful times of day
Both of which are golden
But I disagree
Nighttime has its own peculiar but enchanting charm
With its crowning jewel, the silver moon.
To me, it is agony like no other that surpasses not placing at all
To be placed second
To have come so close
Yet fall just one place short
And watch as the Golden one
Outshines you, the Silver.
As a tribute to the unspoken grievers
The Silvers with their quiet beauty like the darkness
Just before dawn, yet unloved for they fell short
I wear silver.
For the Silver Seconds.

Please repost if you are a Silver too
Comment please! I love to read interpretations of my work.

To the writer that I read out of pity

I have your name etched in my browser bookmark
In my head still there's pieces of I Couldn't Help It
how I don't quite get it on the first glance from the windows of a ******'s life
now, in hindsight, still
my favourite of all
I creep almost constantly on your writings
clinging to the lights you reflected onto my life.
You were my very first visit to this site
You are the path of how I'm here.

I thank you
I thank you, Santa Moon Humor Leah Rost.

Zeal
Where things started out. Talks they were small ones. Names and such.

Zest
Laughs are only here when you are near and smiles are aftertaste from the sip of your jokes.

Zodiac
We both don't believe in either horoscope or astrology but I asked what's your sign and I didn't tell you mine. Your curiosity drove you to ask me mine.

Zany
We put up the ugliest part of us on display and tell that we are okay with each other making acquintance with it. In the same time, making ourselves at home. Nothing to hide.

Zone
Oops, didn't we saw the warning signs?

Zoo
All the adventures I tried to drag you in but you refused.

Zigzag
We took the wrong road. I saw trees like ghosts. I hear sounds and it's getting steeper. We ran with pitch black vision out of all these.

Zip code
I wanted to say sorry and I'm not good at talks so I wrote for you and put it into an envelope. There were never stamps.

Zoom
The feelings. It went away like wind I felt when your car zoomed past me on that Friday night.

Zap
And I'm out of this game.

Zero


Z**
Our tale is the length of the Z's in the dictionary. An allegory.

She lived in that white mansion
Up up on the tar hill
All her life she was wrapped in it
Look closely to find her
Between Christmas trees and patio
Spinning under them wishing so hard
She was a fairy and prayed for a wing
Late evening, she creeped under
this tree she doesn't even know
the name of it
Molding foods out of sands
Driving in a plastic car with her feet
Accidentally her right foot was under the car tyre
But kept trying to drive past this root from this big tree
Crossing over drains so gracefully

She told me the good times
When people praised
That she could write her own name on a markerboard
Or when people said she was pretty
In scarves even though
She looked like hell
She told me it reminds her
Of Fleet Foxes 'White Winter Hymnal' lyrics
With scarves of red tied around their throats
To keep their little heads
From falling in the snow
Her scarves was all red too with ribbons pinned on it
That she regret losing it now

Right back when she could wear dresses
Without remarks from her mom
That it felt good when people don't talk
About her hair that is bad everyday
Chocolates were shared without even a thought that she did not want it
Turtles can be kept because there
Were still aquariums
But they went missing the next day
Just like her hamster named Michael
Also this cat she left at a fish market a few time
But got back home like there's a GPS, itinerary and atlas all in its head

When her dad had to work until daylight
She will have to sleep upstairs with mum
In that little space there are microphones of which
She sang songs that find ways until 3 lanes behind her house
She hated the smell of the sofas
She wasn't afraid of heights but
Everytime she looked outside the windows she just get the chills
At nights engines revving on roads
Passing by frightened her so much

Once a burglar got into the room
Where her aunt sleeps in
When dad was working she slept to the room next to her aunt
At 4:00 she heard a distant cry
Up to this day, she doesn't like
The holes on the bathroom walls
She said she could feel someone
Watching
And still there's this trail of size 7
On the white wall under the window
Images of a flower *** moved to the front door
To stop us from running away,
that *******

Now she is out of her own
Beautiful tragic cage
Now she can be found beside this road
Her last step out of the black gates was no tears
I can still feel the echoes from the pictures of her mansion
Like a phantom limb hanging
The air that surround the mansion now
Is straight out of hell
The fog like a poltergeist in her head
Making sounds and moving things
Oiling cogs in my head
And sow the longing deep underneath
To come back in summer and search for her red scarves

I hide my dreams in the space between
the cover of a book and the spine of it

I pace underneath beds with a pulse
and I can tell you, my blanket is
clean of dust from the bookshelf

I lie back to try change the anchor
of two on the edges of my lips
into balloons that float

I am not really good at promises:
as I hold up the roofs for you
as I said I would
Earth shifted and I let it fall
and for me to get a grip just so
I won't fall

I slip in between gates of your houses
Seated between beds and bathroom
Spinning around on the couch in front of TVs