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 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
I'm falling apart?
I agree.
I'm not the same girl,
I used to be.

I tried to stop,
And go back to how I once was,
It didn't work.
I'm very sorry
Let me have a demon party
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
Why would you ask me,
If I was okay with you leaving?
You know it kills me,
That you were laughing.
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
I've decided I'm not going to let people hurt me.
If only I would not hurt myself.
I've fallen into the tricks of society.
Now I'm someone else

*and I'm sorry..
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
Beauty was he,
For the way that he spoke.
And those dazzling eyes,
That made my mind choke.
And beauty was he,
For the way he was made.
That cute little smile,
That kept me wandering for days
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
I don't know what is scarier
You leaving me.
Or being the one you left her for..
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
Lies
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
You said I was all of these wonderful things,
Until you met her.
But I guess I'm not what you prefer.
I'm a lifeless eyes girl with nothing,
But the lies you said.
All still embedded in my head
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
I want to cry;
But I'll seem too weak.
Because letting feelings show,
Is a sign of defeat.
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
Home
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
Walk with me.
Take my hand.
I'll lead you to,
An unknown land.
We'll lie on the grass.
And look at the stars.
With you my home,
Isn't very far.
 Mar 2014 Ann cobb
Kylie Wallen
Black was the color,
That stained her heart.
For the kids mistook it.
As a piece of art.
They ripped it in half,
And folded the edges.
A heart so broken,
Can never be mended.
128

Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning’s flagons up
And say how many Dew,
Tell me how far the morning leaps—
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!

Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin’s ecstasy
Among astonished boughs—
How many trips the Tortoise makes—
How many cups the Bee partakes,
The Debauchee of Dews!

Also, who laid the Rainbow’s piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite—
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who’ll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away,
Passing Pomposity?
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