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Flavia Aug 2015
I had a talk with God last night
in shining hours beneath the moon
He told of his plans for me
we spoke of kismet, fate, and strength.
I talked to Momma yesterday
between drags of cigarette.
we talked of husbands and better things
she doesn't think I'll ever deserve.
I spoke with Dad this morning too
he needed money for rent again
I told him to go to hell and then
he cried and said he loved you still.
I talked to Dave from the coffee shop
he said you never called him back
I told him not to worry though
I lied and said you were working a lot.
I spoke to Ty on the street last night
he said you owed him a pretty penny
I knew it went to the hole in your arm
he slapped me good to send you a message
I had a talk with God last night
but you're not sober enough to care.
He spoke of mercy, love, restraint
I said, *******, leave me, alone.
Flavia Oct 2014
What I know comes from the heart
You're torn away, a world apart
A cheesy line, a sudden thrill
casting shadows soft and still.
Aching, baking in the sun
wishing girl, thy will be done.
To have, to hold, I yearn to feel
a racing heart I can't conceal
I come to you so full of longing
craving something like belonging
Yearning for you from afar
your words are harsh, your ways: bizarre
Talented and slightly scary
hardworking, and always wary
broken family, has no home
part of me, yet part alone.
I have the snuggles and the kisses
a life that points to being Mrs.
A part I never want to play
From you though, dear, I hope and pray
You'll rescue me from this deception
fight for me and take direction
Fly away without the strife
fly away to a passionate life.
Flavia Nov 2013
Once upon a day or night -- Wait, it was day, there was a light
a light, which shone upon a moonlit drive so dark and drear.
At keeping track, I'm sadly slacking. Forgive my memory, it is lacking
memoirs of this day of days I could not -- would not -- hear.
But now alas, alan, alack, something gruesome did attack, my dear.
Something's **** head did rear.

Indistinctly, I remember, was it June? July? November?
Moments burn together as I recollect the fear.
And though he knows it gets to me, he will never set it free,
the truth of all the memories I used to hold so dear.
The truth you chose to hide from me for days, turned months, turned year.
But no, I will not shed one tear.

He held my hard heart high in flutter. Stomachs full of bread and butter.
Our love could not be jaded, for he traded tea from beer.
And though we were the oddest pair, I thought by now he would not care
how people chose to say their puns of nuns and hateful jeer.
Of wolves and sheep, of awkward sleep, of hunters hunting deer.
I thought we had our life in gear.

Sadly, though, I was mistaken. Blast, that awful wretch has taken
my whole soul and everything I previously thought mere.
He broke it off, and with a cough confessed, a darkest truth repressed
of everything, how twas a lie, and that the end was near.
And with four words, a looking glass of sorts he handed me to peer.
These the blue-eyed snake hath spoke: "Honey, I'm a queer."
Dated a guy who turned out to be ***? Here's the poem for you. In the style of "The Raven".
Flavia Jul 2013
A vulture of voluptuous
a curator of curves
he walks
and stalks
and talks
then balks
like I'm the one absurd
Flavia Apr 2013
Tick Tock
Goes the glock
Must be time to pray
God ain't here
Ain't nowhere
Ends another day
Flavia Apr 2013
With eager eyes and tempting smile, he beckoned 'cross the wharf
And I returned: a sad reply, stating he must morph
into a man -a broken man- who puts things back together
Whilst I sit here, and wait and wait, and keep on till forever.

Kingdom comes, piggies fly, time churns soft and slow
Every hour, like the other, shuffling to and fro
Mind is racing, heart is beating, must be with him soon...
He is the sun, he is the stars, he is the solstice moon.

But he is full of hatred, and angry, scary things
That I cannot behold because my covered ears will ring.
I will not hear the wretchedness that billows from his mouth
I will not see the ending of intentions headed south.

He is an angel, under God, and all the better creatures
that prize the gentlest, passionate, souls who mirror all their features.
He never asked, only assumed, that I would be alright
But Oh! the sadness over one who turned away from light.

So here I wait, on endless shores, until he comes for me
Or maybe not, really, who knows, what lies beyond the sea
The water holds the untold words of thousands who've passed on
And here I am, scribbling the script, of stories before dawn.
Flavia Dec 2012
Soft golden silk
streams down my face,
built strong and tall am I.
Embroidery feels like my skin,
deep amber in my eyes.
Dimples carve out of my cheeks
should I choose to smile for thy.
6th grade, baby. This is an archive of an OLD assignment I had lying around. I'd like to think I was talented. Perhaps full of myself.
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