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  Apr 2015 Ash Saveman
astronaut
Every night..
I tuck my heart in,
and sing it lullabies of smiles and light.
I caress it softly to sleep. .to sleep into tenderness
and to wake up lite

Every morning..
I wake up to my heart
broken, and sat on fire burning.
The gentle night will always fail to help
a heart that keeps on yearning


Every night, I pick my heart back up, and mold it with careful hands as I softly kiss all its scars
Every morning, my heart falls into the void you left, and shatters into pieces as many as the stars
kitsch (N): an object, or a piece of art, that is of poor quality due to excessive sentimentality and cheesiness, but is appreciated for the same reason.
Ash Saveman Apr 2015
No letters
Or words
Or phrases

No lines
Or stanzas
Or sections

No this is not a poem
Or a mindless rant
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Nothing here
  Apr 2015 Ash Saveman
NV
this is not a poem
          
          

                       *just a mere


image
consisting of

                                         straight lines
and curves
Ash Saveman Apr 2015
When is a poem no longer poetry?
Ash Saveman Apr 2015
At what point does a ramble become poetry?
  Apr 2015 Ash Saveman
Swords and Roses
Perhaps the worst thing
Is that I can't tell you when I'm happy
Because I'm afraid you'll make me sad
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