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bakedjones May 2015
I've lived too many times
under the deep mahogany smoke of your breath
i've let it wiggle its way into me
in through each which way
my nose and ears and even some through my belly button
every hour of every day
I've danced under sprinkles of your batting eyelashes
inviting you to join
in dresses red and ******* grey and too often ******* off
through the presence of moon after moon
I've rolled and then melted in the blankets you lay
from everything i understand of you
to everything i never will
you wake me and rinse me in the morning
and fold and close me like a special book in the night
i will always swim home to you
bakedjones May 2015
i sit in my car
Waiting at the same red light as yesterday and probably tomorrow
and my chest actually hurts
feels churned over like butter
(though usually when i speak of butter it's in good light)
i'm in the jungle in the woods in the ocean but no matter what i'm me
that's a hard thing to realize
over and over again in the same moment
"hold onto something"
when my chest hurts so bad my heart has no room to live

the light finally turns
no more anticipating
I can finally breathe again
bakedjones May 2015
i want to wake up
in the tiny jar of sugar
back in the dusty corner
of a wooden cabinet
at a nice pizza place
i want to be added to a bowl of oats
when someone needs an extra spoonful
i want to taste sweet and just right
bakedjones May 2015
now i spit it all out
real words float off my tongue
drenched and heavy with happiness
they fill the room with comfortable thick air
i know it because i feel it
my words dance around
first circling my body
then clacking along the hard white floor
until they reach the stubble on your chin
and nudge you gently, but persistently
like a kitten might
they beg you to play
to breathe
to love

my words have been dancing for so long
they run in circles
and entertain themselves
for the sake of them
and you
but they tire
and my chest aches from their heavy haul
bakedjones Oct 2014
it may feel good to get tangled up in his yarn
and eat off of him
like a saucer
but before you know it
he's the ******* dog
with not much to say
and heavy footsteps
walking out your door

now i can only perch on the inside window
and let the seconds run like minutes and the minutes like hours
a pink nose against the glass
and a meow
when all the black dogs pass
bakedjones Oct 2014
the mean streets bid me ado as i waddle
waddle waddle
up the twirly stairs to my girlfriends house
down the rickety ones to my boyfriends
Alas! a girl with bop-it stops me mid way
i thought maybe she wanted some of my cigarette
but of course
this twisted  little one had nightmares pouring out her ears
on the mean streets
i met satan
and she's a pretty little girl
with a lot to say
bakedjones Oct 2014
poetry left me the day you did
wagging your tail
and sniffing your way out the door

but it came back
the day a sweet little kitten
with tastebuds the same as i
peered through my window
and meowed at me
to come out and play
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