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Ava Courtney May 2016
My tongue is a piece of sandpaper
I’m melting into a puddle
I want to dive into a snowdrift
The hot asphalt burnt my toes to ashes
Oh lord. Open me up, My organs are cooked
I think I’m well done
You can fry an egg on the sidewalk it’s so hot.
As I melt away. The sun keeps shining down on me
Laughing and mocking me as I slowly burn to death under this
500 degree heat.
Ava Courtney May 2016
Hope is but an illusion in the heart of the naive youth
And non responsive to dreams or expectations of truth
Through Anger and Frustration. Hope falters and slips.
Yet within your fantasies passion drips from cherry lips.
Love court's imagination, summoning a dreamy smile, And
You find you private place, where you go once in awhile
You yearn for a soul mate to share your total existence with.
And still continuing to search with undying persistence.
You fall in an out of love, with the ghosts of yesterday that conjure you constantly. And while finding happiness you we still manage to pretend that everything's okay. When really your broken and scared inside. That's what hope really is.
Ava Courtney May 2016
A cup of fruit punch spills
And stains the clouds
Mixing with tomato soup
Stains and lemonade

Van Gogh dips his brush
In the royal purple
Of early evening
Streaking a plum across it

A glass of starlight spills
And night descends

— The End —