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We are lowly swallows
pulling together the corners of the universe
so that other lovers might be together,
if just for a single, stranded night
of reckless abandon.
A poem on feeling like the leftover piece in someone else's romance novel
 May 2019 Christopher Black
L
Cut my jaw with your lip, burn me with your blessed touch. Poison me with that silver tongue o’ yours, good God, preach to me your sweet loving.
Drip your name into my mouth, and I’ll swallow it all.



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this is an edit/repost! I've fixed it up is all =) might keep the other one.
 Aug 2018 Christopher Black
Torin
and as for grace
there are angels in this place
and they sing
only blessings that they bring
fruits unto me
my holy protectors
I know of grace
as a brilliant light which you've waited to see all your life
the most inspirational light
as though all your pain was worth it
just for the chance to see

this was my grace
and even the delicate leaves that dance in the wind
move in a way that I believe
it's a softly pulled thread
it's being in love with everything
everything in love with me
she moves with grace
into empty minds and hearts
through city squares and darkened halls
dancing through all of life
with incredible beauty
impeccable flair
and as for grace
once I felt the touch
I knew as much
if ever there were something to save me
I opened his mind, try something new.
Then, I opened his skull to taste something new.
I replay it in my head

L osing our temper
O verthinking
V iolent words
E xaggerations

Y ou walked
O ut the door
U ncivilly

S till, I wait
T omorrow you might come back
I leave the door unlocked
L isten to our song
L et it play over and over again

I pour another glass

A llowing myself to
L ose my mind
W ondering
A pologizing to myself
Y our voice in my ears
S uffocating my thoughts

W ould it have ended differently
I f I had let you win
L et go of my pride
L ooks like we'll never know

- p. winter
i ******* up
 Apr 2017 Christopher Black
Renae
What's worse to you?
Being ignored or being used?
How about when they're interlaced
Still impossible to choose
Either way you see it
No matter what
You lose
I can't be your light
your anchor
your sun

If I go much longer,
black ink
starts to run

And yet,
doves above
singing faith and trust

but blinded am I
by the strong
hold of lust
A poem a day keeps depression away, amirite? Haha...
She ran away from her hometown
to make her dreams come alive
The city  ,with many famed success stories
a place with endless opportunities
they have their doors
closed for all the outsiders
And struggles start , after city's lure dies
Then dreams seem far thing
And survival becomes tiring
Odd jobs and odder bills
do not appreciate your skills
All her knocks , remained unanswered
Her ambitions discarded ,
The difference between
reality and dreaming
becomes far more clear .
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