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Ams Nov 2010
In a fetal position, I sit
buzzed cut, scarlet carpet
under me
propped up against iron bars, digging into my back

Stained glass memories cast colored shadows on the floor and bodies of those surrounding me

My head rest against the mahogany railing,
tea candles rest on the floor
casting watercolors of still life portraits through my tears

hallow silence
echoing against stone arches

Warmth
arms graze arms
surrounding me
never has anything felt to right

never have
I felt so blessed

to have those whom sit beside me

all is at peace within the silence

I look up and remember
Ams Sep 2010
BEEP,BEEP!
PA-SHUU!
UUUURK!

Urban cacophony
conducting a
eulogy
reminiscing of the burgeon
bucolic country

::silence::

a precursor to an ubiquitous end
Ams Aug 2010
Absconding from nebulous qualms
of your own chicanery
I am here now to disabuse the anomalies
of the ingenuous
irascible thoughts that relegate
your capricious effrontery of your
disparate soul.
Magnanimously,
I would return such a favor,
**wever audacious....
yet with such a unique situation,
aberration is truth.
To censure such thoughts,
I leave now with a voracious eloquence and you...
alone, forever.
Ams Jul 2010
I never thought this could happen except on 20/20,
but it happened,
it happened to me.
You did this.
*******.
Go to hell
You stole my voice,
you stole my humanity.
I want you in prison till
my *****
sag
all the way
to my
toes.
You stole my sense of security,
my sense of safety.
You did this to me.
Because of you,
I'm scared to be by myself in public.
What if I see you?
What if you see me?
What then?
Will you run and hide?
Will I scream?
Wait.
I can't.
You stole my voice.
Yeah, I will "get over it" with time.
I've gotten over things before.
But you changed me,
you stole a chunk of my soul
with your
camera,
and
**I want it back.
Ams Jun 2010
Worry wakes me at 2am
refusing to let me go to bed

"Come, let's talk" he says to me,
"about all of life's possibilities;

of life, of death, of what happens after

of fate, of choices, of happily-ever-afters

of sickness, of danger-and even kidnappers,

of careers, of regrets, of blessings and bets

of family, of neighbors, of lovers, of friends.

Come! Let's chat, inside your head.

We have all night, so take your time.
Let's also make a grocery list-don't forget the wine!"


I hate when Worry wakes me at 2am
but I must be polite, so I just smile and nod my head

I listen to all that Worry tells me
but he makes himself comfortable and dwells deep inside me

he visits for days and sometimes weeks
yet when he leaves, he escapes without a peep

Dear Worry, please next time
just knock at the door
give me some time, so I may implore!

Yet, tonight we remain friends
viewing the world through your concave lens

as you rest yourself inside my head
dear Worry, it is time for bed.
Ams Jun 2010
He yells at his neighbors
and sometimes my friends

his hygiene is horrible
his breath smells like flem

when I ask him to come over, it turns into a huge affair,
cause he just sits in his lazy-boy chair and stares off into the air

he refuses to cuddle with me on the couch
but suddenly, when in bed, he is not such a grouch

his domestic habits do not exist
if they did, I would not be so ******

but for some reason
I still love him
I have no idea why
that little rat-
terrier, pug mix
**** dog of mine
*Composed with help from my friend, Megan.
Ams May 2010
Monotonous memories
attached to strings
float into the sky
like butterfly wings

Hold on tight
all you want
still they drift away
like eternal hiccups

In between the ears
they rest
dust gathered under
an oriental carpet and old oak chest

Search all you want
to recall their details
but the timbre
is all you remember
*Timbre is pronounced tam-ber. It refers to the intonation that is produced by an instrument or voice.
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