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 Jan 2014 Carla Michelle
Emma S
3.45 am I woke up from one of them
It felt more real to me than the reality I woke up to
In my bed with sweatpants on and darkness surrounding me

Yet my dream of being in the woods
Having this guy finding me
That he let me in
It felt so real

I knew it right a away
I tried to touch his arm
Roll up the sleeve
He tried to hide it
His skinny arm with a million small blue vains
His arm filled with burn marks
Small short deep bumpy scars from a razor

It felt so real
I wanted to help him
Show him my arm
Tell him that he's not alone
Far from alone
We looked in to each others eyes
His eyes started to tear up
So did mine
When he finally relaxed
Let me drag my fingers gently up and down his arms

Reality pulled me back
From him
From who he was
I don't know him
I've never seen him
But he knows more about me than anyone
And I know more about him than anyone ever will

It was just a dream
But I have never felt more alive
Is it possible to fall in love with a stranger
I'd like to compare it to believing in a god you've never seen.
Trying to convince everyone you know that it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.
But you don't know who he is.
Gone.
With the smell of the coffee still reminiscent in his words.
That cologne,
You've smelled it on some one else.

Blue.
Like the color of the ocean in his eyes.
And now you're drowning with no water in sight.
Throat dry, because he's taken every ounce there was within miles.
He doesn't know it though.
He's just a stranger after all.

Conversation.
Something about that New York band and living somewhere by the sea.
Big dreams from the beautiful soul you'll only encounter for 45 minutes.
Long before you notice, it was only his lunch break,
And you, only sight seeing.

Now you're longing.
Longing for lips you've never kissed.
And the bitter politics.
Because he hates voting.
American man who's a slave to a good story.
Still a child at heart but only for 45 minutes at a time,
And that's when he's with you.
Because god forbid someone sees him for who he really is.
And thank god it's only the people who will never see him again.
And maybe,
Just maybe,
If someone were to hear him out for once
He wouldn't hear voices in his head,
Or talk to strangers about all the awful things he's done in bed.

He likes to have *** with the lights off
Because no one can see how awful you are in the dark.
And it makes a little more sense that you can't see the voices
When you can hardly see the palms of your hands.

And you sat there.
Contemplating how a man with beautiful bones, could ever feel so low.
You wanted to;
Run your hand along his chin,
And touch the black that is his sole.
But you held back.
After all he's just someone you don't know.

As he stood up,
Smiling with lips that should be considered a sin,
Returning to busy crowd that he used as a metaphor for the chaos that is his life.
You thought,
"I love a man who uses metaphors."
And then you said.
"Is it possible to fall in love with a stranger?"
You are washed up
Out-dated
Old-fashioned
Never fashionable.

You treat me like an anomoly
Like my intelligence is withered.
Your goal in life is to make me feel small.

In response, I stand up.
Shout
Scream
Belt
Until you can no longer ignore me
Or put me in my place.

I love when you get that look on your face.
That look of utter
Disgust
Disconcertion
Defeat.
It just goes to show that
I know how to outsmart you.

This is why I need feminism.
Why I have embraced it.
Because everything that makes me "unlady-like"
Makes a man ideal in your eyes
And in society's.

To rid the world of
So-called human beings like you.
While in reality
You are nothing but a sexist.
 Jan 2014 Carla Michelle
MKF
Heroin
 Jan 2014 Carla Michelle
MKF
You're my black tar,
My drug,
My ******.
I'm addicted
And I can't get enough.
I'll love you til I overdose,
With your needle still inside me.
For Trevor
 Jan 2014 Carla Michelle
Kasey
Typewriters are more romantic than
Leather journals and black pens.
But there's something about my cursive that feels like
I'm just writing unsent letters with love from my wrist
To you.
And to me
That's the biggest piece of my soul I have to offer.
 Jan 2014 Carla Michelle
Kasey
I just wanted to tell you
I wrote everything for you.
So when I leave
You'll still have these words of mine.
I love the way your smile lights up the sky. 

And how when you sweat
your hair curls at the nape of your neck.

I (love) that when
I’m in conversation with you
I’m transfixed on every world that you utter.

I love every breath that you breathe.

I’m in love with the way you roll your r’s. 

And laugh your A’s.

Everything that makes you, you
Is the (love) in me. 

As a contradiction,
I hate you.
I hate all of you. 

I hate how I love every word you utter.
And I hate how you roll your r’s
and laugh your A’s.

I (hate) your bright smile. 

I especially hate you when you sweat,
and your hair curls at the nape of your neck.
I hate that I makes me want to kiss you.

(Most of all)
I hate,
Hate,
How much I love you…
And how far away you are from everything I thought you were.
I feel like lately,
maybe when you say my name,
it doesn't melt in your mouth like honey,
but maybe engulfs your taste buds like bland oatmeal.

When you think of my warmth and love,
that maybe you misplaced the thought of me with another.

Are you still crazy about me?

When I think of you,
its like a warm summer day,
it takes over my skin, warms my cheeks.
makes me smile at the sky and laugh for no reason but being happy.

When I say your name my mouth quivers,
and my chest just wants to explode with confetti,
like you are something to celebrate everyday.
You are the essence of my happiness

But when you talk to me I feel like I am the thorn in the lion's paw,
that I am no longer a luxury but a chore.

You told me that no one wants to be glued to their phone,
that its no fun to be on your phone on your birthday.

What can I do?
You live so far and the only connection I have is this satellite between phones.
I love you so much and I just wanted to do what I can to share that day with you.

If I could get on the plane right now and be with you I'd be there in a heartbeat,
no questions, I'd drop everything but I feel that for you that's not the case.

Aren't you still crazy about me?
Crazy like I am for you?

Why don't you want to talk to me as much as I want to talk to you?
Why am I not on your mind all the time like you're on mine?
Why am I crying over how much I miss just seeing your words on my screen
but you can easily not reply for hours on end?

Are you still crazy about me?
Or am I just this safety net that catches you when you're falling?
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