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you tasted sweet
honey and clover
(over and over)
like breezy car rides in the summer
i was high
you felt divine
but you your taste turned bitter
in the death of a summer
in the birth of winter
you turned back to black
you tasted like staggering hell
crushed under your spell
crimson and *****
(over and over)
but i still love you
and i always do
'cause you still remind me of honey and clover
(over and over)
and i still want you
more than i even did when you were sober
but i almost quiver
i feel like you shiver
(away away)
i almost think
you're holding back from me
i feel your shadow in the back of my thoughts
you haunt me up
(up and up)
but please, still, come on over
give me a kiss of that honey and clover
(over and over)
tell me you love me
(over and over)
 Aug 2013 Violet Hooper
hkr
it's one of those nights
when everything hurts
everything hurts so **** much
and i know you aren't mine to miss
and i know you're slowly forgetting
my voice and
the way we talked
replacing me with a better memory than i could ever be
but all i want right now
all i need
is you
to just
be here with me

say
my name.
 Aug 2013 Violet Hooper
hkr
i've told the story of
how you broke my heart
so many times
that there is no heartache
left only for me;
i'm empty.
feeling this hollow is worse than feeling hurt.
Etched across my back,
each one about a fingers width apart,
and red, horizontal lines.
One set starts at the center
and spreads in either direction.
Another set starts in the same way,
yet spreads at an angle,
as though to make a triangle
with the ground,
if they were to continue.

Left by the nails on your fingers,
these marks will linger
for a while
and then fade.
Just as everything does.
Just as everything must.
Today,
at a street festival,
I watched a girl I have never met,
have never taken notice of before,
dance for about an hour.

I sat there,
begging God for the courage to get up
and dance alongside her.

After more than a few chance eye contacts
I decided to not look away when she looked at me.
Not missing a beat or a step we held one another's gaze
for a while.

Spinning and smiling she motionlessly
and wordlessly
beckoned me forth.

Denying myself a simple pleasure of
human interaction
and dancing, I remained seated.

After everyone had left,
and the band had stopped playing,
there, in the middle of the street she stood standing.

There, under the orange glow of the streetlights
atop a small coffee table
I sat, imagining her reflection in my eyes.

If God would ever be so generous as to allow it,
I would do it different.
I would dance next to her and then with her.

If God would ever be so generous as to allow it,
I would do it right.
My upper body becomes uncomfortably hot.
My lower body doesn't seem to want to move.
My hands become sweaty and a bit shaky.
My eyes dart around, not content to rest in one place.
In my mind there are many memories of your touch.
There are many memories of your smile,
but there is only one memory of the last time I saw you.
 Jul 2013 Violet Hooper
ERR
When I die
Don’t be sad
It won’t change a thing
And I’m not coming back
If you care so much
Lets be happy now
Together

When I go, don’t pick pretty things
Sweet petaled flora
Piling the dying on the dead
Instead, plant me something colorful
Make sure it gets water, and sun

When I leave
Don’t whisper angry should-haves
Or wish you’d let me know
Start writing
I would love to hear from you

Read more
Help a stranger, or someone you hate
Commit yourself to something
Quit a self-destructive habit

When I’m gone
Talk to me
I’ll listen

Think about things that make you cry
And be braver than you are numb
Pray, even when you've stopped
Believing or think it’s dumb

When I’m done
Don’t march in black, or be scared to use my name
Celebrate your own vitality
Tell stories and remember
I hope I made you laugh
Drink and hug and live
And say to that creeping specter
That ever looming doom
To *******
Not today

Don’t hold grudges
All love comes from forgiveness
Of self
Challenge your ideas
It’s alright to be wrong

After me
Keep living

When you are empty
When you are down
When your winter soul is a frigid void
Feel my mitts on your tense shoulders
And the warmth of my arm’s cocoon
Swim in my eyes
Let me heal you, let me soothe

When you doubt it most
When there is only sting and ache
I will be with you
I will love you

You will never be alone
I have enough treasures from the past
to last me longer than I need, or want.
You know as well as I . . . malevolent memory
won't let go of half of them:
a modest church, with its gold cupola
slightly askew; a harsh chorus
of crows; the whistle of a train;
a birch tree haggard in a field
as if it had just been sprung from jail;
a secret midnight conclave
of monumental Bible-oaks;
and a tiny rowboat that comes drifting out
of somebody's dreams, slowly foundering.
Winter has already loitered here,
lightly powdering these fields,
casting an impenetrable haze
that fills the world as far as the horizon.
I used to think that after we are gone
there's nothing, simply nothing at all.
Then who's that wandering by the porch
again and calling us by name?
Whose face is pressed against the frosted pane?
What hand out there is waving like a branch?
By way of reply, in that cobwebbed corner
a sunstruck tatter dances in the mirror.

Leningrad, 1960
~

Destructive thoughts may only cause harm.
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