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 Aug 2016 chasing vapors
Stephan

Sometimes I wonder when she says she loves me,
what I have done to deserve such a prize
I am not special, not someone so worthy
or smart as some others, at least in my eyes

Oh sure I can write about what I am feeling
in poetic form that will usually rhyme
Poems of love filled with sugary phrases
that tell her how happy I am she is mine

But there are so many who write words of wisdom
with thoughts stimulating in wonderful prose
Stanzas of life and the world all around us,
depth in their meanings, it certainly shows

Difficult subjects that touch us so deeply,
current events, many names in the news
Sadness and sorrow of friends and their passing,
realistic themes now expressing their views

While I write of fairies and peppermint kisses
in fantasy settings with sunflower dreams
Stardust and sunsets and magical places
with lily pads singing in clear mountain streams

What does she see in this heart of a dreamer,
who paints pretty pictures in whimsical weave
Writes everything with the happiest ending,
thinks in forever just past make believe

Sometimes I wonder when she says she loves me,
what I have done to deserve such a prize
But I’ll just keep writing and hope she keeps reading
while thanking the luckiest stars in my skies
 Jun 2016 chasing vapors
i
you
 Jun 2016 chasing vapors
i
you
you are a poem that breathes,
and i can't stop writing it.
money
 Jun 2016 chasing vapors
i
but how
can i crave your
touch when
i've never
felt it?
 Jun 2016 chasing vapors
i
and i die with the thought of seeing you again.
 Jun 2016 chasing vapors
i
my heaven
 Jun 2016 chasing vapors
i
i'd be lying
if i said i didn't
know the reason
behind the cigarette
hanging from my dry lips.

we all know it's *you.
 Jun 2016 chasing vapors
i
last night i found out that you still hold a cigarette between your lips and i just want to smack your stupid face for not quitting,
but what hurts me even more is that you didn't offer me yours and i have been thinking of buying one pack myself and drowning myself in pity and coughed smoke/

what i hate to admit is that you look even more beautiful with a cigarette between your fingers but i refuse to go back to my old self, to the old me who loved the boy with no heart, with smoke in his lungs instead of air, the boy with charming smile, because he wasn't even real, it was a person my mind had created in hopes he would become even more beautiful than he already was/

but at least i hope you had fun on new years and i'm thankful that some girl's lips weren't pressed against yours at midnight, but i don't love you anymore, so i don't know why i even care/

but even with smoke in his mouth, i knew i wanted to kiss him and savor his taste, which i only had presumptions of-
maybe his tongue was a mixture of mint and hurricane or strawberries and sun kissed rose pedals or maybe chocolate and rain but i felt dizzy and out of place when the realization hit me that i will never find out how his lips tasted and felt against mine/
i'm confused, g.
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