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Collin Daniel Mar 2015
I wish that I could show my feelings
through more than just
shallow,
pointless
lies
and the false statements that my mouth proclaims
that don’t matter.

The story my eyes are screaming,
breaking through the walls of an unsharpened pencil
into the words on cheap paper,
and baring myself to the world
through the songs my heart sings
when my fingers brush across the skin
of another,
more intricate
individual.

And the exhalation of smoke from my tired lungs
explains much more than my mind
could ever force
my mouth to
spill.
Collin Daniel Mar 2015
weight on my chest,
you were the breath i was afraid to take in the dark
the smoke in my lungs
          and in my heart
you are a slow death.
a calm trickle of rain on my window,
a hesitant grasp on the reality of a situation,
a “maybe tomorrow”

you are exhalation,
my widening eyelids,
your sudden finality

you are an exploration,
the bottom of the ocean,
the bottom of a bottle
my only fear,
my only solitude

you are the ringing in my ears,
the silence i no longer rely on

— The End —