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Candide Bailey Aug 2012
Before you know it, you'll find the sound of your roommate's voice while she's talking to her bestie on the phone to be a burgeoning wedge pushing you into retreat. The demands of your work schedule, the hours of studying to be done, the expectations of friends and lovers. They all crowd around you with their false promises of offering a new path, a light of some sort. But in reality they only hover over you with the disparaging lens of a magnifying glass, while blinding you with a searchlight intent on finding remnants of the person they once knew. The sun used to come through in patches and shine down on you in spontaneous beams, but now that flicker is gone. Now you cannot even remember what natural light looks like. You cannot see any path to what you once longed for. Your options and advances dissipate like a sugar cube resting on a tongue; the sweetness of solitude soon gone. This wall they have surrounded you with, under the pretense of comfort, has turned into a treacherous mistress. What was once the pillow that absorbed the weight of your head is now the force blocking your vision and airflow, as you suffocate underneath its weight in exchange. You'll find yourself cowering in a corner with a noose around your neck, the tension so strong that any attempt to move away will only sever your life as you know it. Any movement at all will only tighten the hold. So you must stand completely still.
Candide Bailey Mar 2012
a seed planted grew
but the petals fell that bloomed
swept away by change
Haiku?
Candide Bailey Jun 2011
Water, it spreads so thin
That the fish have nowhere to swim
Sunshine, it tries
To disguise
Renames it, calls it a cloud

Let the fish flop
From side to side
The current time
It brings the tide
Here it comes, spreading death
Flowing by happiness

This dam is damaged
This dam is breaking
A crack is forming
And it is splitting two sides; their bond will be removed
As the current pushes through

Intently pointed dancer’s feet
Navigate a path
Hips paint a melody
Two eyes they meet
Two eyes alike
Four eyes, they hide
Currents behind

This dam is damaged
This dam is breaking
A crack is forming
And it is splitting two sides; their bond will be removed
As the current pushes through

Push
Push on me
Push on you
Push on me
Push on through
I found this poem in an old notebook from high school.
Candide Bailey Apr 2011
It's the sun's morning light that has got you so blind
That right at this time it feels warm on your skin
So you tilt your head back
For a second to relax
But the darkness, it always sets in

It's the root in the ground sticking up you don't see
And your glasses fall off
To blend in with the leaves
And you're on your knees
With your hands scrambling
Looking for something worth finding
Something worth the effort to see

And the ones that are the closest are never in the know
And the arms that are the furthest are the first place you go
While your memory is erasing
To make room for replacing
Something high for every low
Clear images fade along with your hate
And soon you will find somehow you forgave

It's the elephant in the room no one bothers to mention
Standing unassuming, still the center of attention
Eyelids shift and personalities switch
As soon as the lights are all out
And you're a doll on display
Growing old, locked away
Meant to look at but never to hold

And it was never planned to happen like this
It was only a brush of the hips
But one inch and one inch and one inch and one inch and
**You better let me finish
Candide Bailey Apr 2011
I want to take everything I've learned and then form it into words and everyday I'll change and tweak, arrage the letters too true to speak. but i feel more like a caterpiller crawling to the new day that is dawning in search of a branch worth something so complex as its only chance to make a cacoon. let fear ensue. i'm afraid i have rushed it and emerged too soon. i find it is not quite a flight i've opened up to, and they aren't quite wings but they'll do.
the truth?
its not a rose from the tennis court crack but it grows next to the broken beer bottle that is not quite a diamond but still sparkles in the sun. and even if it's forced, it's still a smile at it's worst-- making itself the truth when the day is done.
so what are you saying?
bask long enough in deceit and soon it will seem less like defeat and more like something you chose on your own. so maybe it's not the cookie cutter image shining on display, but who am I to say you can't grow to love. at the end of the day it still awaits. sad little place you call home. believe your thoughts. you are just a well put together mess at its best.
Candide Bailey Apr 2011
What is a flower
If not for its pollen
What are leaves
To a tree once fallen
What is a nest
With no egg
To a mother
What is a hand
To the face of a lover
What is a path
With no destination
And what is a God
Without a Satan?

What is the sky
If not for a cry
What is a life
If it never must die
Candide Bailey Apr 2011
I walked up and picked up
I walked on and dropped off
like clockwork
climbed the lattice-work
all the while sayin you weren't
tryin to sell me
you're worth
more than whatever
your thoughts just as clever
to give you the notion
of pulling the lever
keeping the ship in motion
spanning the depths
of the ocean
in search of the curse
you swear you rehearsed
and now you must execute
your trip down the chute
finally meeting the truth
leaving us all to guess
that she never
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