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Night skies are proof
There's more than meets the eye
The two-way mirror that reflects fear
Can be shattered to reveal
What's been patiently waiting behind
All this time
I'm not a poet, I'm just a dictator of my heart!
I'm not a poet,  I'm just a sailor of my soul!
I'm not a poet,  I'm just a story of my life!
I'm not a poet, I'm just a song of my feel!
you stood and spoke
like the women before had
and i felt it coming

you approached the front
and rising up in me
the stammering, wilting pain

you laid it out for the room
not even half your horrors
and i just wanted to die for you

because i would
selfish as it would be
the clichéd fatal love

We talk of our failures
past present and future
We forget to acknowledge

what you say he always says
the longest way round
is the shortest way home
follow me

to a place 

no one bothers to go

follow me

into the depths of imagination 

where anything can happen

anytime you want

take me

through your streams of consciousness

I want to know

every part of you

take me

where no one bothers to go
 Apr 2015 Violet Smithe
arham
Everything  I touch turns to dust
Everyone I love leaves
I lay in the cold waiting
For the other shoe to drop

It should be simple
This life
It should make sense
This existence

I catch a snowflake falling
From the skies
It melts upon my touch
Denying me its beauty

The cold sizzles and burns
You'd think the cold would be cold
But ah it's scorching
It licks and gnaws

It should be peaceful
Death
It should be easy
To let go

Yet
Everything thing I touch turns to dust
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