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 Sep 2015 Ricky
Chrissy
Born to Die
 Sep 2015 Ricky
Chrissy
Have you ever realized, we are born to die?

I hope you do not let that simple comment that is perceived as 'negative' dissuade you from finding a purpose to this wonderful life. There is a certain beauty in dying. We leave a legacy of happiness, love, hope and passion to fertilize generations to come. How beautiful is the concept of life? To put the world and all it's glory above our own personal desires?
 Sep 2015 Ricky
Emma-Leigh Ivy
Pearls sent slipping from the string
& in that moment they sing like raindrops.
Monsoon pours red lust across my bed.
He provokes the thunder instead
with a dance of lips & fingertips.  
Pearls ripped from the marble hollow
of intrepid breast, at my taunting behest.
They clatter to the floor
like my last shrouds of innocence.
His heavy touch does breathe
sweet incense
through the thick air of this precipitous night,
dark with wild unknown.
He comes to seek refuge in this storm,
& implores me to soak him to the bone.
Pearls tumble like sea foam
across the angles of my alabaster collar.
Crash to the floor like a wave to a beach.
Pearls, & tangled limbs & biting kisses
dive into delirious bliss & sweet remiss.
My ivory blushes with peach
blossoms opening to welcome his reach,
as we amble through a valley of pearls
& silken sheets.
Drunken lust leads to broken necklaces.
 Sep 2015 Ricky
Terra
This world has become black and white with illustrations in clear color

Side by side we dear only protest in silent agony,
for statistics to see and noone else to notice

I cleared my senses so long ago,
discovered shades of gray

Soon blurred lines became crossed lines in a flash of lonesome honesty

In a simple world with simple values I have chosen to be loud
 Sep 2015 Ricky
princessv
Haiku 2
 Sep 2015 Ricky
princessv
I am drowning in
your love and I do not want
to learn how to swim
November 7, 2014
 Jun 2015 Ricky
rosie
soaked
 Jun 2015 Ricky
rosie
bask in the
11 PM
humid June air
with me,
our skin
soaking up the ivories
of Luna's glow
and the stars
sinking into your pores,
leaving my hands
scorched
from their touch.
silver clouds
rising in the sky
holding back their tears,
husky grumbles of thunder
in the distance;
these storms
are nothing,
compared to the things
you start in me.




Copyright ©  2015 Alyssa Packard
All Rights Reserved
this is all happening so fast
 May 2015 Ricky
the blonde poet
My brain is so full of ideas,
And they bounce around day and night.
And until I put them on paper,
They march back and forth
Left ...
                                                               Right...
*Left.
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