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 Mar 2014
BB Tyler
again void of sleep,
carried over parallel lines
by blues.
Our names are engraved in our
neighbor's guitar.
The Korean man likes ecstacy,
and we all love music
and food
and ***.
Just like our parents.
We pass a thousand sunflowers at their day jobs.
These hills remind me of home
and food
and ***.
 Mar 2014
BB Tyler
Death saw my progress and smiled.
I try not to shape the darkness behind my eyes, but sometimes those pearly whites
Like tombstones shine under moonlight.

I remember the young dog on the road.
He wasn’t strong enough to support our convenience
And his weakness leaked from his mouth and nose
Adding a savory flare to the grey gravel road.
He was burried under an apple tree
And my tears were taken aback
When I looked up to see
Death
Smiling in an apple blossom.
 Mar 2014
BB Tyler
alright,
so one day you wake up in the middle of the night,
not for a sound or a light,
but the fright of "not right".

You move your awake to the living room
and hold on to it tight.

With eyes withered wide
you see without sight
in the sun-tipped hours
of empty delight.

"It's not right" says you
to the you you're speaking to
and you're convinced through and through
that the voice is not new.

The sun coming up,
the filling of cups,
tells withered eyes,
to look to the skies,
and in the demise,
on the night's last light,
the day is crowned queen,
by the sun and your sight,
and you sigh away why,
and the fright of "not right"
in the day that you woke in the middle of the night.
 Mar 2014
K Balachandran
Drawing behind, her gathered black cloak ,
the night reluctantly withdraws
behind the numerous skyscrapers in the making
springing up, impatiently at various stages of scramble,
going one step above each passing day
as if there is no intention to stop,
till the day a fortress is built up around Bangalore.

Not the garden city of yore, any more
an  unfamiliar painted doll, robbed of innocence,
full of malls, glass, chrome and marble pomp.

The fluorescent eyes of the city, bids
farewell to the retreating night
with which it played varied games till morn,
and wearily view the approaching daylight.

The world is changing its color, now, so fast with vigor
yet, it is just the same as ever, in essence.

A blue train wearing a white turban,
measures the bottom length of the new skyline.
As I watch, an observer of a bubble, a phenomenon
I look through the eyes of one similar,
a few million years later and see light, only light dominate.

Then, like I do, two eyes would observe and
think of eternity, the imaginary construct called time
and the interplay of black and white and the time in which both dissolve

Behind me you stand quiet, taking in my scent, dense with pheromone,
a witness on the verge of arousal, you gently caress my neck
your sharp teeth bite at my earlobes, sowing goosebumps
all through my body's landscape
Your long fingers, love to travel all  my back and shoulders,
I dissolve within the present, travel down with your fingers,
your love transforms in to gentle all engulfing caresses,
that alone is real all through the ages.

I view through the eyes of the stranger,
who would see what I see in another time, in a form different
then we would have to accept, we are one and the same!
Sky line in front of my window was an orchestra of tree green
as far as eyes can see
and birds of many kind criss crossing the sky
But now all i see is a mad scramble of concrete ogres!
My fairy tale city of gardens has gone to dogs!!
 Mar 2014
her
It’s scary looking at someone that has every element and characteristic that you’ve asked G-d for in your most intimate prayers…

There’s something so nerve wrecking about looking someone in the eye and loving every piece of them without them even opening their mouths.

Realizing that you’re the ultimate side piece for it is from his side that you were created. He assures you of your position when he whispers, “I’ve found my rib” in your ear and takes your hand while he makes a vow to love you… And love you…
And love you.

And when they do, you stumble hand in hand 6 feet deeper into graves set in juxtaposition because so help me G-d not even death will do us part.

No.

How was this made for me?

When did you do this G-d?

Did he ask for me too?

I don’t have to, sit by the window anxiously awaiting a package anymore.
G-d delivered, my exclusive mailman. 

Shipping was free.

I just had to believe.
I haven't written in a long time, hope you all enjoy this.
 Oct 2013
her
I hate finding myself staying up late

waiting by my phone

for a call you’ll never make

I hate you

yet

before I sleep

I taste your name on my lips

followed by the words

I miss you
 Oct 2013
her
he wasn’t expecting my lips to be so warm

nor my heart to be so cold

he wanted to go by what he felt

and not believe what he was told
 Oct 2013
her
Nobody ever misses me right away.

I have a tendency of making my way into parts of your life that you don’t notice until long after I’m gone.

You’ll think of me in the laundromat, when someone three washers down has the same fabric softener I had just washed my clothes with the night before our first date.

You’ll think of me at the coffee shop, when someone ahead of you in line asks for three sugars and two creamers, like I used to.

You’ll think of me when your sister shows up to your house wearing the same nail polish I did the first time you kissed the back of my hand.

You’ll think of me when you’re in the car alone and you realize you don’t turn on the radio anymore, ‘cause our silence used to be better than whatever was playing.

You won’t really realize it until it’s too late and I’m too far gone.

Until I’m so deeply embedded into your memory and intertwined into your everyday life.

You won’t miss me immediately.

It’ll take some time.
 Aug 2013
Makiya
pale
speech
 Jun 2013
her
last night
I came to the conclusion
that
every time you leave, I
die a little inside
and
I don’t want to tell you
‘cause
if you knew
I’m not sure whether you’d
stay in effort to keep me alive
or if you’d
keep on leaving until I’m

dead
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