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Bayn Sep 2013
Wearing matching plaid kilts and knitted sweaters,
I see you. Do you see me?
I still have no idea how he lets me get away with this.
I guess everyone has their own definition of “comfortable.”
My new alarm clock. A body slam, a wiggle backwards and a kiss.
Then I sit and smile,
Baby how can you even sleep like that?
Bayn Sep 2013
Many creationists view the duckbilled platypus as an enigma that evolution cannot explain.
Super-Platypus attempts to escape from aliens.
Am I one of yours? Little Platypus?
In August of that year the Submarine Support Depot
platypus debate began.
Out of a large cloth travel bag,
Diana pulled the furry platypus hand puppet
platypus-in-a-can.
Boba Fett told Darth Vader, "As you wish," he was really saying, "I love you."
I took a quiz once that told me I was a platypus in a past life.
Bayn May 2013
You again
I will never escape you
My mistake
Just by virtue of being one number lower
I hate you
I can never have a moment’s peace because of you
By you I mean me too
My sins can be tallied
My sin is measurable
Eleven.
It’s my fault as much as yours
And to be honest I’m not as regretful as all that
But just when I think I am free I realize my cage just extended a little farther than I thought
And I suppose I deserve to suffer for those sins?
Sins that amounted to nothing
And a God I don’t believe in
Or a devil
Unless they meant you.
Bayn Apr 2013
It’s like wanting to nap
I just want to sleep, toss here the gauzy blanket and charcoal pillows
I’d be so much happier knowing my chairs will be empty
My fingertips are always cold now
So many books I’ll never get to read them all
I don’t want to hug my stuffed animals
I overwater my plants
It’s like seeing you standing on the distant shore, if you could only see how peaceful it is here you could possibly understand
If you could hear me over the crash of idle waves
But we are ships set for different courses
Follow your rose to somewhere warm with burnt sands
Someone else wants me for his bride
And it’s not an offer I can ever decline
Tschuss, meine Liebe. Gute Nacht, Herzchen.
Bayn Apr 2013
I wish I could scream.
But I can’t cry, I never could.
Or maybe that’s a lie, but not about this, never about this.
If I can’t cry I want you to make me tears.
To feel the artificiality become something real
Indistinguishable from my body, I scream in the rain and that makes it all true
Makes it so much more real.
In a way that makes the church bells pealing down the empty alleyways behind my ears seem like my conscience.
Pounding and ringing ringing ringing.
I will scream into the bells until I can cry
Softly to myself like any normal person
About things I can’t change.
Bayn Apr 2013
Th-thump th-thump th-uuuuuump-ump-ump
Strange skyline
Under a paper moon
Broken parties in the dark
With still steel yelps as well
My knight without stars,
Wherefore art thou?
Not inside this concrete palace,
Nor my own bone sarcophagus.

You came.
You saw.
You left.
(Me, with this awful internal techno-music, no offense.)
Bayn Apr 2013
So familiar the sparks of inspiration about to bloom
Horripilation and several empty soup cans tip me off

My time has come to be prolific,
under the wise tutelage of my angelic spektor

Accompanied by the wailing hormones of pre-pubescent boys trying to sing into microphones

Teacher please, spare a verb? Where the ivy used to crawl up fragile arms sanguine for all intents and purposes

Dear teacher, nothing electronic works in my room anymore
Dear teacher, your students are all ******
Dear teacher, I retain your lessons as lacerations upside my skull
Sweet teacher, reposing just across the hall and sideways a spell
In a coffin of criticisms and carbon monoxide fumes

The love of a generation, a single blue rose, and a jar full of tea 30 years old.

— The End —