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 Jun 2015 elouazzani kenza
Chaos
It's okay
I'm used to it
Being a disappointment
I've become numb
To the pain
That comes with it
It's okay
I'm used to it
Being a useless mess
I've become cold
To the ache
That accompanies it
It's okay
I'm used to it
Even though I shouldn't
I no longer feel
The hurt
That comes each day
*it's okay
i'm used to it
Walking hand in hand along the beach
Water crashing down on sand covered shore

Foam forming on salt water peaks
As the sun gleams on swelling waves

But the beauty I see as I stroll along
Is the wisp of hair blown about

Around the face of my true love
As we play and stroll

Along the beach hand in hand
A day with my love at the beach
people talk about wanting to drown
for days, and days
in one's eyes, so blue
like an unpoluted ocean.
I would rather walk for ages
and explore,
carefully,
deeply,
every inch of
this forest,
so deeply green
that's the shade of yours.
things i'll never say
 Jun 2015 elouazzani kenza
TYRAN
Love potion's scented with my smell.
Said I'm a lightweight but I do it so well.
What I do to you with no hesitation could send us both to hell.
Is it wrong that I'm okay with that?
Said just keep moving in circles like that.
Once I put this on you, all else on your mind fails.
With a touch so sweet and a feeling so deep like a fantasy that's real.
Need I remind you what I'm here for?
To give you what you've never felt before.
What's really true anymore?
Light of the new world, I can show you more.
Even when I'm down with a crooked crown, hopes are still high.
Feels much better when it's wetter and raining down my sides.
When you splash inside, drown in mine, like a crashing tide.
Open up your pretty big mind, you don't have to hide.
What you hold inside is a bigger prize.
Let's just fly away and soar where all the birds go.
Welcome to my world, you've been touched by Virgo.
some men got a woman.
some men got a man.
me, I just got a guitar.
lord, how I love my one man band.

shalimar's my guitar.
shalimar, she's my strings.
when I get to crying,
that's when shalimar starts to sing.
©  Passius Ashe   1999, 2015
Life can't afford to move as slow as we do. Maybe that's why we always feel left behind
Whispers
Licking your ear
Like flames.

Breathing heavy.
Tickling
The back of your neck.

Close your eyes.
Hold your breath.
Tremble.
With you
I am a tourist
You carve your smile
Tell me I’m welcome
And hold out your hands in demand

I know something is wrong
But this place is so masked in serenity
I do not care to understand it

You grab and you tear

Here
Love is a currency
I will pay with my heart
Then inflate to bankruptcy

I was nothing special to you
Just another tourist
Like the dozens and other hundreds
And you care about them
But not for them
Just as you do not care for me

You value what you receive
And how much you can grasp
But give newspaper to blind beggars
And insults to the depressed deaf

You care not for what you pass around
Only that what comes back to you is what you desire

So I am spent
Spun around
Turned away
And asked to leave

And you welcome your next tourist.
They don’t want what they say
They don’t say want they want
They play their games
They’re dating savants

I’m looking for love, could I be the only one?
Butterflies and goosebumps
And thousands of hugs

If true love exists, please let me know
I’m running out of faith
Should I just let the dream go?
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