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 Nov 2016
Kewayne Wadley
There I was.
Loitering in the lobby of her heart, after a long flight the only thing on my mind was rest.
The aroma was nice, stepping in through the double doors.
Following the stretch of carpet to the front desk.
Air conditioner stationed right above the door soon as you walked in.
Almost feeling myself sink into the splash of a fresh comforter.
I stood at the front counter waiting to be checked in.
Didn't quite feel like home.
The longer I waited the more anxious I became.
Messing around with the pen chained to the desk.
Making circles and snake like motions with the chain.
Noticing the dust under one of those small relaxation fountains at the closest end of the receptionist's desk.
The hum growing louder signifying that the water needed to be refilled.
More interesting.
There were no vacancies.
Good that I made reservations a month before time.
Noticing the aquarium over by the elevator.
There I stood loitering in the lobby.
Patiently waiting.
After a while, it sinks in that all lobbies are the same.
An endless void of waiting.
Was it absurd that I envied the fish watching me from the aquarium.
It's a strong possibility that he fell asleep watching me wait as the receptionist hasn't quite made it back yet
 Nov 2016
Kewayne Wadley
Your voice is like my favorite song.
I'm not quite sure how to explain it.
Soon as you speak my soul is instantly combustive.
A deep echo heard in the farthest region of my soul.
Standing there, roaming free.
Each peak skydiving into the ripple of my heart.
This edgy parapsychology that ceases to end.
Doused in gasoline, ignited, remade anew, soon as the door way to your mouth
is opened.
Never fading.
This majestic feeling that you give.
I wish my headphones had a higher setting.
To take in more of you.
Each throb against my ear drum
Echoes In perfect excitement.
My heart pounds in anticipation.
A pool of gasoline touched by a spark of fire.
A bright blaze taken place inside the well of me until there is nothing left inside.
This is the effect you have on me.
Waiting to hear your voice climb the peak of where I stand
In the farthest region of my soul
 Nov 2016
Kewayne Wadley
I watch you.
Wondering back and forth, gathering twigs and berries. Bringing to life a place only you allow your thoughts to wonder.
Although serious. I admire you alot.
I know if I was in your position I wouldn't walk through these woods alone.
I've seen alot of things though. Alot of the world's ill's that wisp through the echo of the trees,
I even watch the quirky things that you do without realizing.
The quirky cute things that you often pay no attention to when you do them then say "what" like nothings ever happened.
Like stopping to smell the daisies instead of the roses.
Splashing in a puddle of leaves then watch then scatter one by one.
Laying there without a care in a world.
All appearances are not what they seem.
As the world itself is a crazy place.
Sometimes you need that. To step outside of yourself and just play every once in a while.
The journey to grandma's house isn't a long one.
But the next time you stop and whisper your secrets to the birds and the wind flutters your coat.
I'd like very much to feel your hand rub through my fur.
And protect you on your way to grandma's house.
Maybe let you ride on my back
 Nov 2016
SG Holter
This axe was made from
Oak and
Anger.
Forged in the fires that
Shaped my cardiac
Armour.

I'll never surrender to a
Woman
Who sees love as war
Ever again.
It's been a long,
Lonely time.

But I've seen peace.
Still sacrifice to the gods,
Praying for brief, cold
Winters; for all other
Seasons to be neither.
They all have room for a

Woman between them,
But my hatred for ego
Is a burning beacon of warning
Even I myself shun.
I just want the silence.
That deep, deep silence,

Whose last word will never be:  
"Me,"
But:
"... ... ..."
That, I can love.

This axe was made from
Oak and
Anger.
It beats paper; scissors; stone.
Sees me armed. And still
Alone.
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