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 Jul 2015 aawrites
jacky
Purgatory
 Jul 2015 aawrites
jacky
I have got this  idea,
a stupid wish, a nonsensical desire
of being in a car accident.
Hear me, I want you to.

I prefer to be in the backseat,
seat belt on, and a frequent mannerism
of looking down, in front
on the driver's dashboard. I do that,
I always want to know the speed
and how fast the others outside this space
of metal and cushion. I don't want to be the driver,
knowing myself, I would not get myself into one.
I am a safe *****, that is all.
Then, here goes nothing -
I want the car to crash. I still haven't made my mind
on where or what are we going to crash.
Maybe a wall. Maybe another car. Maybe a post.
I want it to be something solid, but not alive.
Trees are the exceptions. I want the car
to kiss that solid thing, head on.

I don't want the pain that may come along,
I don't want to call it a near death experience,
I want that instant where -
everything seems unreal
or too real my head would not be able to
understand. I want that portion of time
where I decide do I close my eyes or not,
that moment that I will have my life question itself.
And I don't wish death I don't wish to live, either.
Just that moment, where I could think
how instantaneous life can be.
I want that tick of the clock
the clashing of realities and dimensions..

I want that moment,
I need to feel that moment of being just between death and life
where everything doesn't matter anymore, but I still know
they exist.

I have this stupid idea,
nothing so important, nothing so surreal
but to wish this
is the demand I am willing
to pursue.
here goes nothing /// just needed to let this out
not really sure if I gave this poetic justice but what the hell
Valiant are you who fought and fell gloriously;
fearless of those who were everywhere victorious.
Blameless, even if Diaeos and Critolaos were at fault.
When the Greeks want to boast,
"Our nation turns out such men" they will say
of you. And thus marvellous will be your praise. --

Written in Alexandria by an Achaean;
in the seventh year of Ptolemy Lathyrus.
Midnight cravings.

I can't shake the ache
to have you near me again.

Take me to a private place
where we can practice passion
without fear.

Let's take off our clothes in the wilderness.
I'll kiss you,
and I'll keep kissing you until you open for me
the way a morning glory opens for a sunbeam.
I will gaze upon the beauty of your bare soul,
and you will feel the love I have for you shine on you from all angles.

I will always want you this way,
don't ever forget that.

Touch me,
tell me softly through your teeth that you want it rough,
and writhe with me in the dark
until you find your release.
Just know that when the sun really does come up,
I must leave.
 Jul 2015 aawrites
Nicole Dawn
Always remember
That the books
Who are the most worn
The most torn and ripped
The most broken

Those books are that way
Because everyone loved them
For what was inside
 Jul 2015 aawrites
Emily L
Home
 Jul 2015 aawrites
Emily L
The space between
your fingers,
your breaths,
is there room enough
for me to find
a little place?
because love is not
a person
nor is it a chase.
Love is a soul
that invites people
inside
to say grace.
For every ounce of
love that leaves
its trace
upon that soul
who says,
"Come there's room enough."
you're home.

— The End —