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Elizabeth Ann May 2013
Whisper me your secrets
And I'll whisper you mine
Tell me of your stories
And I'll tell you of my lies

My lies are  not deadly
Just a sheath on the blade
But the sheath of my lies
Is a deep scarlet's shade
Elizabeth Ann May 2013
This poem for you
Is my little adieu
As it passes from my smile

But my smile is this
Just a lie with a kiss
That has you running miles
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2013
You look with those cold cold eyes
Deep into my soul of black
Black hair
Black eyes
Black nails
Nails that blead from teeth
Teeth that bite the hand
Your hand that touches me until I'm
Sad
                  Sad
                                   ­   Sad
And very, very alone in a coldness that spreads
Spreads like my hair
As I drown in this abyss of fear
Fear of death
Fear of life
Fear of emptiness
Fear of me
Fear of you

You.

Scare.

Me.
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2013
A flower so pretty stands so tall
It grows and grows arms up the wall

A rock so hard, no windows, no door
A perfect home for one -- no more

A tender snail, so calm, so slow
Knows much too much than a snail should know

A ***** quilt upon a bed
warms and calms who lays his head

A single tear from a cloud above
Who has not been shown enough sweet love

A tree in the woods, hidden away
Grows alone in a crowd, the wind it obeys

An old man in a chair in a big, empty house
Remembers, in silence, his long gone spouse


A flower whose arms strangle a rock,
A small knowing snail who forgets you not,
A quilt wet with tears dreams of stars and sun,
A tree with a dream to sing and run,

All of these things, I am like them all
Even the man who seems very small
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2013
10 Years of Discretion
9 Months of Persecution
8 Semesters of Imitation
7 Weeks of Affliction
6 Days of Temptation
5 Hours of drug Consumption
4 Minutes of thought Malfunction
3 Moments of Desperation
2 Seconds until Eradication
1 Life of Lacrimation
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2013
Sometimes I forget
What matters anymore
So I must remember
I must remember...
Remember...

Remember what?
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2013
I wanna be tall and cool
I don't want to be Mamma's Fool
I want to run around all day
I just wanna go away
I want to drink and party late
I want to be that guy you hate
I want my knuckles bruised and sore
I don't wanna think no more
Inspired by the poem Idle Teen by Nikolas Brummer
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