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Eriko Mar 2016
last night with my breath heaving ice
I dreamed of a palace towering so high
magnificent porcelain floors,
each tap of heels a vertigo
of ringing melodies upon shores,
marble white gleaming under
golden streaming sun,
the softest hue of gentle cerulean
kissed like shadows in the empty halls
vivid, startling red carpets muffling
the entrance to every doorway,
hidden diamonds of spruce floorboards
from the mothers of those elegance gnarls
swinging near the front porch,
I dreamt of a beautiful palace
empty but for the pounding in my chest
lingering on hilltop of some forgotten coast
with waves pounding and sleeping at will
wild meadows and daisies sang in the wind
lavender and pines smiled mystically,
the sky was blue, such a clear beautiful blue
I dreamt of this place,
with rooms cluttered of deepest desires
treasures of love, gems of happiness
stairwells to ambition and libraries of knowledge
studios to create and kitchens to splurge
yet I grew a faint as the sun began to smother
the castle walls were blood orange and deep yellow
now I could see the tremble of my shadow
I woke up to a startling start,
and tears rolled down as the plastic stars
glowed on my ceiling, the salivating fragrance
of fresh baked bread ringing with clarity  
I dreamt of palace where I could simply be
with my pleasures and splurges,
following heart's content to sing free
are all palaces really temporary?
I don't know, the palace could be represented literally, but I also feel like the palace and the place symbolizes something else...
Eriko Mar 2016
for the longest time*
I yearned to belong
a home, a haven
but now I see
that all I have
to belong to
is me
..........................

**I am my own home.
feeling
  Mar 2016 Eriko
m i a
his mind was filled with thunderclouds,
that were holding in sadness and pain,
so he screamed out loud,
and let his words pour out like rain.
my friend holds in his emotions a lot, so i decided to write this in his pov.
Eriko Mar 2016
I didn't stutter
to those who needs to hear
no there is no reason
why*

crudely joking
think that's funny
only, it reflects
perhaps
the insecurity
cloaking your personality

no, I didn't stutter
I am not sorry
for that red dart
punctured into
your smile

the smile was fake
a disguise of disgust
and hate
drop the ****

stop concealing
and twisting others
just because you flinched
*at the reflection in the mirror
there is no need to be so cruel talking down about other people.
it is not funny, just simply awful
stop being such an *******,
*******
Eriko Mar 2016
dripping rose red
clung to the curves,
the hips and *******

laced backs peeking
to shoulder blades
and pinprick skin

echoing clasping heels
ripple of fine fabric
bouncing jazz music

dazzling yellow lights
bare neck and white teeth
arms tucked to the side

fiercely dazzling
Eriko Mar 2016
a capsule, narrowing tombstones
engraved upon fine misty grass blades
yawning sun, mellow yolk yellow
gleaming across the hurt inflicted on
see the scars, the rugged trenched dug into dirt
sheared guardrails where the car
missed the next right turn,
logged trees weeping silently
invisible to the tuning in the pearls of our ears
a brisk morning with melodies singing
sweet blossoming lilies sticking to the breeze
like saturation sung harmony
visually like honey woven on cream cloth threads,
these tombstones behold pasts of great tragedy
yet what once welted deep hurt
in the hearts of young minds
and delinquent lovers
remain far into the enriches of worth,
no matter the pain struck lightening and cursed
finer mornings will spread its succulent kisses
of mildew honeydew and crisp morning sunny breaths
that relief of finally letting go
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