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A Dead Poet May 6
What I had, is what I did not have.
Perhaps what my heart should have wanted,
each love song, a curse and blaze.
That singes and burns into my heart
I hear you, hitting me,
forging me,
into a statue forever stuck in emotional wanting.
A Dead Poet May 6
My love,
Tongue of vitriol,
amongst ripped pages.
Amongst unaltered belief of a winged partridge
at my back beckoning my faults.
Tears that stream, like trees with broken nerves
that never touch the ground.

This is what I see in the darkened hour,
This is what I see in the mirror,
amongst the pillars of the chapel
a figment of my imagination,
I am but a pigeon amongst a sea of doves,
incapable of words, incapable of love letters like Rilke the poet.
Only capable of vitriol at the tongue
scorning love, scorning life, scorning death
yet living it. . .how ironic.
A Dead Poet Apr 18
I hear your voice,
  nagging "put it back". . .
I hear your voice
  saying "it'll be okay". . .
I hear you everyday,
  am I crazed & deranged?
I just want to feel your love and see your face,
   for a moment in time,
      when you are not gone.
A Dead Poet Apr 18
Wasn't eating properly,
  lost a little weight. . .
Old pictures,
  smiles on the faces. . .
***** Laundry,
  perfume on the nose. . .
Clean Sheets,
  your arm on my waist. . .
your touch+ theirs,
for in this love
   we are not 2 but 3.
A Dead Poet Apr 16
I look in the mirror,
10 years passed in a breeze,
older, fatter, a wrinkle begins to form.
Youth begins to evade me,
Yet I do not feel sad nor glad,
I am simply living, okay, content with myself.
Is it not odd? Is it not strange? That I no longer care.
A Dead Poet Apr 16
I smell the air, as clean as a city air can be.
I feel the pollen, with its unrelenting itch on my nose,
I hear the birds getting ready for the summer heat,
I see the lovers who always cross our street at three,
I taste the honey, that you loved in your tea.
I smile, three years in the dark,
three years blind, death, within the darkness of this world.
For you are gone, and that is okay.
For in these moments I know you stand by me.
A Dead Poet Mar 28
I'll never fall in love again,
for I never knew love until I met you,
I never knew to cry,
I never knew to drink,
I never knew to long,
until I met you.
I'll never fall in love again,
for love is a disappointment,
& my greatest mistake.
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