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 May 2016 Caitlin Drew
Seth
Mother
 May 2016 Caitlin Drew
Seth
Fill every crack in my body with cement and wine
Sober me up with stale breath and cold finger tips

Sting my skin with the fire of your words
Make my insides spin when I think of our last moment together

I am breathless but yet full of energy
I am running but my feet haven't left the ground
I am spinning without becoming dizzy
I am without reason
Something you always taught me

Take my silence and turn it into a poem
Something that can be spoken to the heavens
Of higher power to be spewed upon them in a way that is inhumanly
I'll see you at the viewing
I'll be in black
You'll be in your best dress

It was so brief
Not even my eyes could've have caught it
Once there now gone

I am vain
I am emotional
I am king

I feel every morsel of my body tense up
I'm looking at your headstone
Counting the bouquets of dead flowers

You were my rain and shine
You were divine

I am the sign
Saying you're going the wrong way
Turn back now

I am crippled from the thought
I have a headache and this room feels smoky
There's strangers in every dark corner
You always told me not to be in these situations

You disappeared and I fell into the darkness
I am painless I am stainless
Many have tried painting there words into my skin but it's all melted away shortly after

The only thing that ever stayed with me was something you branded into my arm last summer

"I love you. I miss you"
 May 2016 Caitlin Drew
woolgather
I still love you, for some reason,
Still twisting this head of mine,
Torturing me with false thoughts.

I don't know what to do anymore.
Lost in the fray of your attention,
Loving you is a one-sided affair.

Losing, as always,
Over people who deserve you more.
Valueless, is my heart.

Endless, is my love,
Yet, I let you keep paining me;
Ought to forget, I should be doing.

Upon a dream that will remain a dream,
Always, when I close my eyes;
Lest I revere you and me.

Jabberwocky is my head,
Out of my mouth, I've recited those words;
Naivety maybe my reasons, but my love is real, and adamant.
Yep.
At what point does declaring your fear make it any less of what it is?
Because I know what I'm afraid of
And for the night it's still here.

Patience;
Like the answer within a lucky eight ball,
the word submerges to the surface.
Upon meditating the previously proposed question.

Is it foolish to be afraid when you know all will be well?
Or more foolish to fall under such a notion?

We forget how powerful fear can be,
how quickly it becomes the thief of will.
 May 2016 Caitlin Drew
Chrissaves
you were the little rain,
and i was the hurricane,
everybody knew you were meant to fix something,
and i was meant to destroy everything.
you are the definition of lightness,
while i was the meaning of darkness.
your body is the realm of all the lost things that are found,
while mine was the other way around.
to sum things up,
we were the polar opposites.
the east and the west,
the tame and the wild,
the day and the night.
when i was lost,
people would say that someday,
someone will knock on your door and when you take a look at it,
you will not recognize who the person is,
your mind will be blasting with the questions,
"who are you?", "what are you doing here?"
and maybe you would even tell the person to get out.
but the person will leave something in front of your door,
a thing that you perhaps wanted or despised,
a thing that even the closest people in your life can give,
but instead, this time,
a stranger will.
it's called the unexpected.
you came knocking on my door one day,
thinking you can settle things with the hurricane,
at first i just laughed and said,
"nobody can handle the hurricane."
however after that i never thought a little rain
would have so much effect on me.
that was when i realised you are also the thing
that you left in front of my door.
you are the unexpected.
and by means of unexpected,
you never did anything i expected you to do.
you didn't give me a playlist of the songs that remind you of me
but my favourite songs are nothing compared to your voice,
one simple "hello" of you will make me stop listening to my playlist.
you didn't take me to art museums
and admire the wonderful paintings with my presence
but you made me feel like a living masterpiece every single day.
when i told you i love art,
you asked why don't i love myself.
you do not connect me to a rose,
or to a smoke,
you do not make metaphors for me
and you do not love poems as much as i do
but your words have the power to hit me more than any other poets could
and i am just a coward to not admit it.
you didn't call me at 11 pm to ask
if i wanted to go see the stars,
like i've always dreamed of.
but just by staring at you,
i can see the stars, the milky way, even the whole universe,
and i knew that moment
that there is no need for stargazing in the middle of the night
when i can look at you all the time.
you didn't enjoy my favourite shows,
you couldn't take it because of how much blood was shown in it,
and i saw beauty in it.
this is probably a poem about
our disparity,
our contrast,
and our dissimilarities.
but you did something that i never expected you to do,
you did the unexpected.
you found the light in me
no matter how dark it might be.
my body was no longer the realm of lost things,
because you've done everything to find them.
and i was no longer the hurricane who is known
to destroy everything,
because for some reasons i couldn't destroy you,
you were the exception.
despite of all the things i wanted you to do that you never did,
the playlists,
the museum dates,
the appreciation of poetry,
the stargazing.
you did something that took my breath away,
something that i couldn't ask for more,
something that was unexpected.
you loved me,
and that was enough,
that was more than enough.
I’m sorry for wearing your
shoulders down,
for wearing a rusted crown this entire time,
for disguising this threadbare throne,
I promise I’ll make every
burden of yours my own,
I’ve said you’ve ran from me
and I’ve held it against you,
there's no haste,
I understand
I've seen it second to you
and thirdhand,
and instead of servitude
I see aptitude,
you will escape,
sometime's instead of
pulling through the vice grips
you have to spin the other way,
I understand

theres nothing vein
in putting your pain before,
you’ve stopped running
yet when trouble tramples
as hard as it has,
the footprints are in cement,

it's easy turning a blind eye
to a mirror when the reflection
is a projection seen before,
I'll stay tight in vice
and keep my laces loose.
tragic how we go from ****** to chasm
in the hope that it would all work out but pull a spasm
bound by human error like muscles in skin
expecting to see light while abundant in sin

vivid pictures are how puzzles begin
snakes double as friends
claim they love you, find the trouble within
exploit faults in hopes that theirs come to an end
give them space to see the hate and they'll love you again
what you hate in others is a reflection of your self perception
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