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 Jan 2015 alxndra
Insomniac
Rain
 Jan 2015 alxndra
Insomniac
There's something about the rain.
How it goes from a raging storm
Ready to destroy,
To an oasis of serenity
A sense of calm
In just a matter of seconds.
I wish I could do the same.
-my
 Jan 2015 alxndra
ryn
Dig
 Jan 2015 alxndra
ryn
Dig
.
•unchain me from unrest•
shovel me out of the dirt•
une-                              arth
my conge-   sted chest•
let my secrets blurt•
let them
spill.....•
just   for
the wor-
ld to see
•..string
me up...
..against
my  will
•harvest
the fruits
of the bi-
tter tree•
let    eyes
see  what
will show
•...let feet
be caught
in stubbo-
rn mud...•
let prying minds be baffled.....by
what they would come to know
•...let wanting hearts choke...on
the dirges of my stale blood....•
now dig me up quickly•'cause
it's been far too long..... and i
have been readied•exhume
all of me completely•for
no longer should i
remain as........
buried•
.
 Jan 2015 alxndra
Kathryn Dixon
You fade...
Like a bruise.

Like the ones your mouth left on my neck and shoulders with its lustful pressure.
Your teeth, which brought moments of bright pain/pleasure,
Are now bared in an artificial, animal smile.

Your lips, which parted to ******* skin like it was salvation,
Barely part now to speak to me.
You whispered my name like a prayer.
You screamed it like a curse.
You sighed it in contentment,
And now you won't even speak it in passing.

Your hands, which half-playfully pulled my hair...
Now won't pause to brush it from my face.

All these parts of you,
None more telling than your eyes.
Those new windows, which once let me pry...
Now have blinds drawn tight behind them,
Leaving only a pretty, shiny reflection-
A passing, glancing imitation-
Of the passion they once held
When they beheld
Me.

No color left to them but the muddy colors of
Boredom,
And possibly mistrust.

You fade...
Like a bruise.
Like the one you left on my mind with your brilliant conversation
And beautiful, rusty prose.
Like the many you left on my tongue...
Which now can speak nothing but trite and meaningless words,
Which now can barely remember the shapes
Of all the shimmering, liquid phrases it spoke to you
That seemed so important at the time.

You fade...
Like a bruise.
Once lover and friend,
Now barely one
And never the other again.
 Jan 2015 alxndra
Sarah Spang
If I was a mountain

That soared towards the sky,

With craggy snow caps

And stormy grey eyes-



Then you'd be the clouds

That swaddled my peak,

That silenced my thunder

When I tried to speak.



If I was the earth

The desert, in fact:

With arid dry soil

And mud, baked and cracked-



You'd be the rain

The downpour that soothed;

The balm to my bruises,

Relief to my wounds.



If I was the Moon

In the indigo night,

With stars as my blanket

And silver; my light-



Well you'd be the Sun

Just always behind

That lent me your glow

And caused me to shine.
 Jan 2015 alxndra
imadeitallup
I don't expect you to understand
Why I recoil when
You extend your arms and hands
Why I brace for impact
Within the trajectory of your touch
It is warm,
and I am cold.
It is wind,
and I am stone.
IF YOU STEAL THIS POEM, OR ANY OTHER POEMS OF MINE. I WILL FIND YOU, AND I WILL COME AFTER YOU LEGALLY. I AM SOOO SICK OF SEEING THIS POEM ALL OVER THE INTERNET WITH SOMEONE ELSE'S NAME UNDER IT. I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW YOU CAN LIVE WITH YOURSELVES. STEALING OTHERS WORK AND CLAIMING IT AS YOUR OWN. BUT ALL OF THESE ARE COPYRIGHTED SONGS. SO YOU BETTER HOPE I DON'T CATCH YOU. P.S. THANKS TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE FINDING AND TELLING ME ABOUT THESE FAKES. I APPRECIATE THE LOYALTY. :)
The season's
in treason
against the breathing
and breeding
of we  men,
because we believe  in
decreasing
the seeding
of trees  and
plants feeding.
Just wait and see, Mother Earth will decimate itself of this disease we call man kind, including myself. I wont invoke it either, I wanna see the ground give way, I'm praying for tidal waves, Mom's gonna fix it.
 Jan 2015 alxndra
Wanderer
Our relationship with the Earth
Can be defined by two choices
Parasitic or Symbiotic
We choose to be fleas
*Why not choose to be Pilot fish?
We can all live together harmoniously
Yet our first thought seems to always be immediate gratification
What can I get now?
Instead of what can I give now?
 Jan 2015 alxndra
Michael Humbert
Creamy thighs wrapped around my mind
Scent inhaled, maddening
Moist adoration
 Jan 2015 alxndra
svdgrl
I lock my eyes to their counterparts-
the alter-ego of my ego.
I stare into the mirror
not to remark on my beauty,
or the flaws that can seem etched
into the glass,
but because I can't trust any other window,
to look into my soul as deeply.
And when I look at this mere reflection,
there is a love so superficially profound,
that can only be understood
when pupils match up perfectly.
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