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dmeade Jan 22
it comes to me like a dream
why all my words
are cloudy with smoke and doused in liquor
why my love letters are blurry and blue
They’re about you

why every smile feels like a knife
and every kiss feels like the last
It’s because I know
and you know
It is.

I fell in love with you because of the smoke and the silence and the kisses.
I lost you to the dawn, rosy fingered and bright
Wide eyes and happy smiles
She was everything I wasn’t
But I still love you

And it still hurts.

dmeade Oct 2018
Two flames rose,
twin pillars of ****,
intertwined like hot regret on a sunny day.
It wasn't until she burned out
that she realised their embers were waning
(as they always did)
and ascending her funeral pyre
was the only way to burn again.

dmeade Oct 2018
I tried to buy back my self esteem,
wrapped in plastic like exotic fruit,
but there was no money in my pocket.

I sold my half of a whole,
greased my palms,  filled my mouth with bubbling hope
and endless pearls.

Money buys you happiness


and then you melt again,
turning to dust,  
when your well runs dry.

  May 2018 dmeade
i never write about the good anymore.
maybe from the fact
that something
so clearly temporary
does not deserve my words.
or maybe,
i'm just afraid to look back
at something that once was,
that might never be again.
dmeade Apr 2018
Two sugars, no milk for me
I'm sweet enough already
You like your coffee how you like your friends
Hot, flowing sweet and steady.

Do all words have to have meaning? If so please enlighten me, because sometimes i feel torrents of words swirling in my head, all without context, and it hurts to know that they are pointless.
dmeade Jan 2018
deep breath. carry on.
let the sunlight filter dimly through your eyes,
burning red rivers through the veins in your skin.
watch the rain fall like tears, then wipe your own.
feel the wind on your skin, smell the sweat in the air
laugh and love, touch the earth below you.
let grief, let pain, let truth burn through you like cigarette smoke,
let it eat you alive and shrivel you up. let it break you.
and then; deep breath. carry on.

welcome to the world of the living
  Nov 2017 dmeade
William Blake
Whate’er is Born of Mortal Birth,
Must be consumed with the Earth
To rise from Generation free:
Then what have I to do with thee?

The Sexes sprung from Shame & Pride
Blowd in the morn; in evening died
But Mercy changed Death into Sleep;
The Sexes rose to work & weep.

Thou Mother of my Mortal part.
With cruelty didst mould my Heart.
And with false self-deceiving tears.
Didst blind my Nostrils Eyes & Ears

Didst close my Tongue in senseless clay
And me to Mortal Life betray:
The Death of Jesus set me free.
Then what have I to do with thee?
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