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I have met wonderful people
People who have shown me the secrets they know about how a life should be lived
And everyone’s got their own answers
To face the tests that come from each day of living
I have shown these people my solutions as well
But God passed a different exam to each person
Testing their will power, questioning their faith
And on the outside you can see the small struggles I’m facing
But a greater battle is waging beneath my thick flesh
I hide the fight I face each day
From the wandering eyes of strangers
And even some familiar faces may never see the darker side in me
Time and time again I deny the entirety of my existence
But as my bones lay exposed
And people see what I’m made of
Will they too deny that I exist?
your lips touch mine, a simple revelation
that begins a revolution
walls crumble
guards stumble
as you fumble for the key
you open me and see
that I am no longer who I used to be

you found the door
that leads straight to my core
and because of you I can love like never before

so now that I've moved on from all that has been
I plead to you, baby, kiss me again
 Mar 2013 Caytlin Rae
Z Martin
Today I straightened all of the hairs on my head
whether they needed it or not.  I like being organized.
Ironing out the kinks in my leather jacket with a baseball bat.
I try to cut the blues from the spinning record,
flicked numbered matchsticks across vinyl to
set the fleshed room on fire,
don’t touch me, I’m a real live wire.

Being on top of my **** is like handmaking
beeswax candles, I twist & turn, carving wax
in the air—There is always more to do, I
always tried to cross t’s and
sort the junk mail from the paychecks,
accidentally dropping cigarettes into the piles of post.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched you
lick postage stamps for the outgoing flood.  
The laundry gets done even though I’m
too tired to pull my key out of the door.

I am in control of my own destiny.

I smoke Coca Cola & drink cigarettes for breakfast
because I don’t roll out of bed on the right side
of any given day, and
yesterday I put my foot
through the television
because tap-dancing on the shards
of the wood-paneled tube from dad’s first marriage
sings gnashed-teeth harmonies
with the microwave’s low groan at 3AM—

I used to eat cold spaghetti in torn jeans and nothing else
while you flipped through channels on basic cable
to hear the collage painting the end of the world.  You were
always an empty can that year, you saved
orange peels to fill with oil to burn—
your name whispers itself into the grease hissings and
I hear it over the skyline and I cannot seem to find a match
to strike to light the last crumpled smoke in my pack—

All I want to do is send you photographs with singed corners,
photographs of your letters, attempts to burn away
any sight of you, ways to cut&bin;; the flint that ignites
the only bonfire in my eye.

And sometimes I wish I could just scream at you until
the flowers crawl up the brick walls of your apartment;
my kitchen smells concrete like celluloid ashes and
if I snap my fingers to break broken promises and
floss my teeth with violin strings I might not miss you
anymore.
 Mar 2013 Caytlin Rae
Feel
Lure
 Mar 2013 Caytlin Rae
Feel
I am writing yet another poem
in my attempt to,
not lure,
but to request for your loving attention.
When I woke up this morning,
I woke up a failure
and I felt dead with every breath I take.
I recognized and realized that
I have so many undeserving help
from people who deserves
so much more from me.
I should not lay here with comfort
but rather with remorse.
With regret.
With hatred.

I feel like I failed in masterminding
most of my relationships,
be it a social one, a formal one,
a normal one, a unique one.
Our one.
I drove around town,
my head spinning much quicker
than my 5-***** rims
and my 16-inch tires.
My thoughts spoke words my tongue could not pronounce.
My tongue locked itself up as though my lips were sealed.
Night seems like days with flashes of lights and images
cutting every cells in my cornea, in my brain.
Images of you.
So bright were your light.

I miss you, let that be known.
I am courageous enough for a stanza or two,
but a coward I am truly, madly, deeply.
But I have a passion for us
for we share one common trait that is rather rare.
But it is rather unfair
that the stairs to your room of hearts
stops halfway.
Because if I were to bare you and expose the nakedness of your soul
you will see yourself transforming into someone you want to be
in the glisten of my tear drop,
because I see you right through like an arrow leaving the bow.
And I know you see me right through like the bow-tie I wear can
never hide from you the nervousness I have behind my sleek tuxedo.
We share this common love for words, our view of life.
We share this unique taste in music, and our unique waste of talent
by only having our poems sit on paper and allow it to rot as the paper
expel from it's expiration date.

We share this weird relationship that we had
that I hope I can have back,
that I hope you want to have it back too.
Nothing is as good a pleasure as having our eyes meet
in a slender of a minute;
or even a second.
But it was enough.

It was more than perfection.

We were perfect. Weren't we?
A mixed *** filled with strange mysterious fervor,
Filled with confused but exciting flavors.
We were a jumbled jar of unconditional affection for each other.
Jumbled and crumbled like a hot *** of chutney.
So shall we try again?
Let's have a taste of what I've wasted,
Let's have our hands stretched out wide,
and just hug it out.
Just you and me,
finally
with nothing to hide.
Let's stop the cold fight.
It's never meant to be.
We are always meant to be.


Have I already said that I miss you?
 Mar 2013 Caytlin Rae
amt
5 o'clock in the morning,
We're half asleep on the floor.
A conversation that makes no sense,
But to me it might mean more.
 Mar 2013 Caytlin Rae
paige
4 AM
 Mar 2013 Caytlin Rae
paige
Going to sleep
Thinking of you
Wondering if
You're thinking of me
I pray that you are
I pray that it's true
I keep trying to
Talk myself out of this
But I can't
I keep trying to resist
But this bliss
I can't miss,
And the kiss
I await
Raises my heart rate.
I'm trying not to rush it
I'm trying not to crush it
But I blush
And turn to mush
Every time you're around
It's like I've finally found
Who makes me happy
I just don't want to be
The rebound
Trying to give you
Your space
But you're not giving up
On the chase
So I erase
From my face
Any sign of a frown
And begin to
Bring down
The walls
I've built so high
Cause I feel like
This connection
Is hard to come by
Just don't be shy
And try
To make your move
And disprove
All my doubt
And make a sprout
Emerge from this drought.
I had given up
Until this hiccup
And now I can't work up
The courage
To believe
That what I perceive
Is not a mirage
And the heart
On your sleeve
Is not trying to deceive
It's just hard for me
To believe
That this is real.
That someone could
Actually feel
What I feel
That this is the real deal
And that I should not conceal
The light
That you ignite
Whenever you're in my sight
I'm just wondering
If you, too, are
thinking of this tonight.
 Mar 2013 Caytlin Rae
Uhh Who
nostalgia
generally seen as a good thing
reminiscing about better, simpler times
your heart trembles just thinking about them
while you stare off into space
unaware of the present
you think back
of all the things you did wrong
everything you should have done
it comes back to haunt you
how you could have reacted correctly
how one moment changed your life now
like retracing your steps
all the way back
but there are no footprints to go off of
just memories
and the bitter feeling that accompanies them
in the deepest darkest confines of your mind
and the sensation of all that disappointment from back then
you can feel it
physically
taking hold of you
your stomach twists
your appetite is no more
paralyzed
in a place long gone
by events that have never happened
in a vicegrip
it's like the butterfly effect in reverse
a perpetual "what if..."
nostalgia
not so beautiful
anymore
3/18/2013
 Mar 2013 Caytlin Rae
Jerry
An incomplete soul.
Searching & Searching.
Can never be whole.

An incomplete soul.
Seemingly, missing  pieces.
It's hard to know.

All required parts
are locked into place.
With emptiness in my heart.

An incomplete soul
Always longing,
Always wanting,
Never consoled.

Smiles are heavy.
Never knowing how
to break through the levy

A dark black hole.
Always melancholy
My incomplete soul.
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