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 Jul 2014 Cadence Musick
Deanna
Sometimes I picture us
In a little yard.
A little girl with blond curls and bright eyes,
Her laughter fills the sky.

I can't picture
All of the steps in between there and here.
But that little girl has a swing set,
And toy dinosaurs,
But her favorite toy will be her baby brother.
He'll look just like you
And he'll probably have your gentleness too.

I can't see myself in a white dress
With our mothers both crying.
But I can see the four of us in art museums
And seeing shows on Broadway.

****, I can barely picture us together during finals week.
But I can picture you trying to intimidate her first date,
And it won't work because your heart is too big.

Sometimes I can't picture us tomorrow.
But I can picture us in a little yard.
i have seen a brown tardis

sitting on the rooftop

now a green one

red and purple lipsticks

walk hand in hand along the boulevard

unaware of what lurks atop the roofs

and in each dwelling lives a cat

called rudimental fish tails

who ask themselves

what did the Berlin orchestra do

during the war
i will bide my time
here,
with you my
love,
for it was you,

who came with,
the gift of love.
to my barricaded
door
and knocked gentle
and soothed my
unruly mind.

you came with a box, wrapped, in compassion
and tied with, ribbons of joy

and inside...
hope, on the wings
of butterflys.

i will bide with you,
my love,
i will bide with you.
my heart was like a glass jar
and you threw it on the floor
when you told me you had to go home
but it was a lie
i know you went to see her.
you left your jacket on the couch
and its still there
i can't move it
because its like touching you
and it all becomes real again.
sometimes i just come close enough
to smell your leftover cologne.
the one that smells like musk
it smells like home to my heart
and it mends it back together
and its like your here again

</3
Your eyes
are iron cores
of dying stars.

I collapse
under their gravity.

You consume me,
and spit me out
in millionths.
When the thunder collapses like my grandfather's love,
there's no one that can hate me more than I do now.
As the lights begins to stain and drain my eyes,
there's no one that can hate me more than I do now.
Skeletons fell with the sea shells in the air.
I hope I'm falling asleep.
To no longer be here
is to be fair to everyone.

Art gallery in my head,
where the paintings hang above
polaroids and used condoms.
Where it's okay that I'm there:
the picture of a *******.
Where it's okay to love me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to know me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to get close to me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to believe in me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to be me.

In 2003 I was molested.
I want it to be okay to be me.
I detached myself from lullabies
and sorry eyes, only to realize:
I could have been dead in March,
right before the summer glows
and everyone would know
It wasn't okay to be me.

Why did you have to do it
My flesh tastes tainted,
and my eyes are painted
with the disgust of distrust
and the disgust of your lust
that corroded my body
and ate my blood
Am I any good
I want to be good.
I want to be pure.
I want to be more
than what I am.
****
There's acid in my veins
There's ******* acid in my veins
My body ******* shakes
Even when in love, I shake
When I'm safe, I shake
Am I ever safe

God isn't real, and neither am I
I am about as real as the dream I can't even buy
My talent is irrelevant, my past dictates my decisions
My love is the only redeeming quality,
and even that lacks precision.
I want to be perfect. I'm sorry that I apologize for anxiety;
it's not so much that I'm asking for forgiveness,
I just want to hear that there's no need to be sorry,
because it's okay to be me.

Oh. Hey, my eyes are watering; isn't this cool?
We're all having fun. Yippee.

The sun bursts rays, and there are twenty-three different ways
to stay alive inside when I'd rather hide from the sun's naivety
Searching for warmth on the walls with blistered palms,
as I lay in bed, naked. Removed of clothes and hope.
Blood in my mouth, new starters with broken shoelaces on the floor
Dreaming of different places. I said: dreaming of different places.
Cryptic words. In other worlds. In fire, I learned to drown.

A-B-C-D-E-F-G
Reentering the room, drunk.
H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P
Hide behind the bloodied bunk.
Q-R-S-
T-U-V-
W-X-
Y and Z
Now I've learned my lack of harmony,
next time won't you spare me, please.

Roses fall from the ceiling. There's no way I'm feeling.
Detach yourself from this room, this nation, this planet.
"You're too fragile to talk to, Josh." Thank you.
Don't allow yourself to ever be hurt again.
Regain your focus after I count down from ten.

Ten.
Reasons to stay alive.
Nine.
I want to live, I don't want to survive.
Eight.
There's nothing about me that anyone should hate.
Seven.
There's no god, but right now, I can make my own heaven.
Six.
I detached myself from lullabies and sorry eyes only to realize I love you.
Five.
"You're still there, right?" Dial tone silence, followed by fist to wall violence.
Four.
And to know you, is to know everything.
Three.
Adaptation without reclamation I find you in my translation
as hurt yet elation.
Two.
I want to make love in love. I want to die and donate a part of myself;
my backbone, lack thereof.
One.
When I fall asleep my eyes meet yours.

Intermission:

Do you like hurt? Do you like pain? Is a happy poem not your game?
Well, read a poem by Josh Haines and never look at him the same again.
And don't look at yourself the same, because it's okay to be you!
For the price of absolutely nothing, you can look at his words!
Wait, and that's not all! Validate the 'beauty' of his words by
touching that heart and making it red!
Make it as red as the bloodied bunk that stained his back and heels!
Only for the price of absolutely ******* nothing!
Hurry, though! You only have until the end of ******* forever, so act fast!
The number is
1-800-I'M AVOIDING A LAWSUIT LIKE I DO THE PEOPLE IN MY LIFE

2nd.

Hey, do you like your parents?
Yes!
Trick question. Do you looove your parents?
Yes!!
Do you like seeing your grandmother in a wheelchair?
Yes!
Do you like being hurt by the people that you care about the most?
Yes!!
Then grab some popcorn and cola!

End of Intermission.


Trying like you're crying at the end of the film that documents your life
To divide a knife into your skin like it's a sin to feel this way
I just couldn't take it, bones in the corner of the room.
Inside a skeleton's eyes, flowers bloom.
Chicka-yay-no way. You swear? You say:
Ti-ta-time is on my side, but that's not how it feels inside.
An internal measure of the pressure of the world
and it's bound to run out like the sand in my hands
at the precious beach that would **** me if I stepped
into the blue, for me and you.

Let me turn back time to when I first met you.
Don't be afraid.

I remember everything. To never forget, is to realize every lie,
smile at every face, and to remember every goodbye.

I hurt my hands, I need to talk to you on the phone.

My insomnia lives off the thought, that I hurt you.
The room is blurry, and I'm sorry for being cold.
I am warm. I have the sun inside.
I guess I'm just afraid of burning you with it.

The drums pound into rhyme,
Diamond casualties
Rewind, wound, rewound
To scratch the surface
until there's nothing but sound.
we talk
and fight,
kiss and make up.
we hold fast to
the hurt
we cause ourselves
and it piles on
like raked leaves
on an autumn
day. the colors
swirl in patterns,
and sometimes
we see golden
yellow, like the hair
that streams down
my back.
sometimes we see orange,
a sunset streaking
through your black curls.
but mostly,
we see red.

if our words had
a color, it would be
red. the garnet
colored phrases cut deep
and make us believe
we are better off
alone.
but sometimes...
your ice eyes
meet mine and
i freeze
and just look
at you.

and it's in these
moments
that i realize
you are all
the colors,
every day and all
the time, and that
if i were alone,
i would be gray
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