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 May 2013 Ariel Good
Suzanne Penn
I want to be
comfortable
In my home
in my work
in my relationships

I want to
crave
indulge
share
and be sated

I want
passion
joy
and abundance
surrounding me

I want a life
worthy saving
worth sharing
worth passing down
to others
 May 2013 Ariel Good
Julia
Hidden
 May 2013 Ariel Good
Julia
It's easy to fall in love with
pretty pictures of people,
plastic & proportioned.
I hide the inside with the
flaunt of my feathers, in
courtship of approval
hiding, hoping, hiding,
hoping, get lost in the
rainbows of my facade.
 May 2013 Ariel Good
E B
Jump
 May 2013 Ariel Good
E B
The world is full of
wanna-bes and
used-to-bes and
almost-wases.

And the world is crawling with
naysayers and
false speakers and
people who never speak at all.

The world will never run out of
cookie cutters and
fakes and
exact replicas.

But every once in a while,
if you're lucky, really truly lucky
you meet a dream catcher or
a dream weaver or
a dream creator.

And every once in a blue moon,
should all the conditions be right,
you meet someone who is not afraid.

Someone who will hang their feet
over the very edge of this dismal world
look down into the dark expanse
take your hand
close their eyes

and jump.

And that person, my dear,
is you.
A birthday poem for a friend. I haven't shown it to her yet. What do you think about the last two lines? To use or not to use?
 May 2013 Ariel Good
Madison
Cigarettes are enticing
when they are inhaled between
the lips of a beautiful boy
with a perfectly crooked smile
and mysterious eyes.

But his smile is stained
with traces of nicotine,
and the puzzle in his eyes
is impossible to solve.

And when you kiss him,
you can taste the stale smoke
lingering on his breath;
the stale smoke that has filled his lungs
and left them black and tarred.

He says they’re nice
when you’re feeling numb.

So you take a drag
in hopes of filling your lungs;
filling your emptiness.
But it leaves you black and tarred
all the same.

**m.s.
 May 2013 Ariel Good
Taylor Henry
"You're a disaster", he said.
I know, I know, I know.
Because I never know where I'm going.
Because roads are still new territory
Even though I've lived here for years.
Because I sneeze in evens and cough in odds.
Because my socks never match
And you still react like you're not used to it.
Because I catch pitter-patter on my tongue in spring.
Because singing in the shower counts as talent
Although my snaps are missing rhythm.
Because I wrap my guilt thick like a December sweater.
Because I regret nothing and everything
A moldy breaded soup sandwich.
"You're a disaster", he said.
"But I'll always want to clean up your messes"

— The End —