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The room quickly fills up with the sound of my heart as it pounds
The walls vibrate and recreate the noise within the top of my ribcage
The notes of an all too familiar song resonate within my bones
The wheezing becomes my words

My fingers are constantly tapping, but I'm not sure what it is I'm waiting for
I'm always on the edge of my seat,
anticipating nothing

I can feel my eyelids twitching
Flicking quickly against my eyeballs
Almost like they're playing some sort of game I must just be unfamiliar with

The way my thoughts come in reminds me of a second grade class being let out for recess
I always hope they'll line up nicely, and neatly
But instead, it's always quite a disaster
They're running, trampling all over each other
Screaming "Me first! Me first!"
"No, me! No, me!!"
There's no order
Just noise
And way too much movement
 Feb 2017 Camaury Robinson
 Feb 2017 Camaury Robinson
together is my favorite place to be
 Nov 2016 Camaury Robinson
the more you love, the more you suffer
He is a writer
Scrambling for paper
The moment he is inspired
Asking for second opinions
On whether his words fit
His ideas travel lightspeed
So he strays a bit
Crumbled ideas by the bed
He worries they're no good
But, that's just what the voices said
He's his own worst critic
He had a breakthrough
But he just cant fit it
Into the small setting that he placed
Worry sickens his face
All this hard work
But nothing to show
He didn't see this coming
Just a few weeks ago
He scrapped it all
It was tainted
He tries too hard to face it
See, there is nothing wrong
Not from the start
My love,
Your words are such art
My rambling writer
My paranoid poet
You made the patches of your story
Point your pen
And sew it
Dedicated to Cody Thrift
You are flowers.
You are the seven o'clock sun in the middle of winter.
You are the hand that holds a heart worth having.
And I owe so much to you.

You're not only the beginning,
But you're the remnants at the end of the day.
You are the warmest kind of person
And I marvel at you

Although there's a sadness that you cling to
I fight to keep it out
Because every part of you that hides
Is another part I want

So I've never been good at much
But you convince me of my worth
And the greatest part of that
Is knowing that I am nothing without you.
a poem for my best friend
The red moon is out tonight,
I'll meet you wearing the red flowing flames.
They might pull you towards me, so keep a distance.
Don't say afterwards that I played an unfair game.

At the top of the red building,
We'll decently get high on red wine
and just like that, unlock our deepest secrets
discovering every truth and every lie.

Hiding in the red sheets,
I'll leave red lipstick marks on your neck.
They'll be a tattoo on your skin ,darling.
Reminding you of our red date, just in case you ever forget.
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