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Falen Jul 2011
I've been having these...

Audacious ideas lately.
Ideas better left contracepted by reason
before taking root in my mind;
I've been playing hopscotch with What If
so long that I forgot he was just
and imaginary friend.

I've been thinking about you.

They're just thoughts but see,
These feelings I have for you
are so very contradictory
because the very reason I like you
is the reason you keep your distance.

You pray to a god I don't believe in
and according to my church,
you might be called a heathen
Yet I couldn't imagine anyone else in heaven
with more ease.

I've been having these...

Audacious ideas lately.
Ideas that took root and
for the life of me, won't scoot
for things like logic.

These here ideas are utterly tragic.

We share the same basic morals
but you stick to the script,
and I'm a little more improv;
with my Saturday Nights Live,
while you're at home praying
prayer number five.

Trust me when I say
I didn't mean to
think about you
dream about you
pray for you
constantly.

It wasn't until I heard you.
Every word was poetry,
and all I could ever do was stutter.
When I think of these audacious thoughts,
I begin to shutter.

Mainly because I'm walking
down the plank into heartbreak,
and those nudges at my back
pushing me forward are
the smiles you beam like
lighthouses in this dark world.

It's as if they start at the ground floor
of your soul, take an elevator
to the corners of your lips and
Spread.

I don't beleive in the prophet Mohammed
but am I a horrible Christian if I thank him
for inspiring someone to be so angelic?
Not only are you peaceful,
you're revolutionary.

You could change the world
with two hands behind your back
and still have prayer time in tact.

MSA President,
captain of the school team,
superlative for the biggest dream.
I like you for who you were, are,
and who you will become.
And it seems as though
every
one
of your actions
is rhythmic to my hearts drum.

I've been having these...
Audacious ideas lately,
Ideas better left unsaid,
Ideas better left dead.
Falen Jul 2011
Two consonants with a vowel in between
seem to be something like taboo in my mind.
I’ve read them everywhere but refuse to
jump on the band wagon. I refuse to
accept what this acronym means.

These thoughts were going through my head
as I stared intentely at the glowing candle stick
in my hand. I was emersed in the glow,
how the the blue magically turned into red orange.

What got me the most was the dripping hot wax,
it had fallen but made a mark regardless.
Just like you.

There was something beautiful about my candle that night...
about everyones cande.
They were lit as the magenta band around the sky
turned into midnight blue and engulfed our heads.
All that stood out was the illumination of the candles.

The candles that lit up faces full of sorrow and unsettling remorse.
These faces had arched eyebrows and lips askew.
These faces had eyes so sullen and red they would
pull at your heart strings and the rest of you.
These faces were void of sugar, spice, or anything nice.
We all wished we could give that
one
last
word
of advice.

As I came up to the microphone, I looked up,
past the banners full of love letters,
past the slightly waving flags, into the night;
I’d like to think I felt your spirit there,
lingering to hear our last words before going on a journey
out of sight.

My words cracked just as the solidity in my face.
I missed you. I miss you. I will always miss you.
But as I sit here, I think about what those three letters mean.
Those letters that associate you
with engraved headstones and rose petals.
Those letters that bring my tear ducts out of the drought
that came after the last devastating flood.

R.I.P.

— The End —