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 Aug 2015
b for short
I caught lightning in your bottle,
and I swallowed it whole.
So torrid and treacherously lit,
I became the kind of something
you taught yourself to run from.
Skin tight and white hot,
I radiate light from all angles;
buzzing with fluorescence.
With my fingertips brightening
the curves of your lips,
I trace that familiar fine line
between your fear and fascination.

In a single crack across the sky,
I will set your darkness ablaze
and leave you with
a deafening boom of clarity.
Jolted and stunned, you take in
an infinite illumination,
devouring every inch of
the unknown color and wonder
once shadowed by your thick,
murky doubt.

Blink, and it disappears
as quickly as it came to be.
What you see, you can’t forget.
As the spots dance, staccato
in front of your eyes,
you run, just as you taught yourself,
fast and far, away from the light;
disenchanted once again,
as you recall the fact that
lightning never strikes
the same place twice.
the same place twice.
© Bitsy Sanders, August 2015
 Jul 2015
Lauren Leal
Some of the most scarred hearts create the deepest poems
From experience.
 Jul 2015
Lauren Leal
My poems are the life of me
They are who I choose to be
and if you read them you will find
the keyhole view into my mind

You will be lost in rhymes
hearing the ticking and chimes
of my life translated into word
with nothing obscure or blurred

You will see my imagination
overworked with frustration
It's an art of the mind
Twisting and unraveling refined

If you read enough of them
You will find the gem
That will tie them all you see
At that moment, you will know I better than me.
My poems
 Jun 2015
Candy Noire
You crawled under my skin
And made a bed in my chest
The weight of you is heavy
But knowing you're there gives me rest
Tore a hole in my heart
I keep your promises there
Soon you grip onto my veins
I lose my balance, you pull my chair
I feel you inside my bones
You made your way through my body
I need a map through your thoughts
I sit here frozen with worry
You smoked up in my brain
Clouded my sensible vision
I know that love it makes you crazy
But I swear you're an addiction
 Jun 2015
D W
I sat there, alone.
I sat there alone, for hours.
I sat there alone, for long days and nights.
I sat there alone, for months depressed and sour.
My Goldfinch, in a clumsy state of being,
In the same corner, she got sick of seeing, the same walls around her, the same walls around me.

I took a moment in that inspiring hour.
I wondered what made her so sick of a life of a coward.

I wondered what if,
I wondered what if I had her wings,
I wondered what if she had what I had, being free.
I thought of how things would have been,
Of her soaring, wandering in places I've never seen.
I took her to the roof in a rush, opened the cage, and sat her for once free!
She spread her wings, in a joyful spirit, free.
Time froze that iternal moment of hope, of her to fly with my dreams far, further than I could ever reach.

She flew, shaked her wings. For once, twice then thrice.

To the ground, she fell, unable to fly.
It is too late, that cage got the best of her. Those four walls got the best of me.

Free,

We will never be.

© copy right protected
 Jun 2015
lolita
Your twilight moons
white irises, that flicker
within the nights confines
clasp at the velvet darkness
pulling the stars into orbit
obtaining galaxies of their own
feeding a universal luster
eclipsing at the sight of dawn

— The End —