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 Mar 2017 galio
naeuta
the best home to inhabit is one where there are no cares in this world, somewhere between dreams and reality, absurdity and rationality,
insanity, madness, asininity -
  somewhere, floating, engulfed in a pipe dream, the place you land when you’re about to go to sleep and you feel like you are falling.

the best home in the universe is the one where i did not care so much how people looked at me, my head was not sodden with insecurity, my voice not overwhelmed with timidity, and the world did not think of things this way.
perhaps you are the ruler of that kingdom.

truly, if heaven exists (and how i hoped it did)
it would be the place between dawn’s brightest day and dusk’s darkest night; a time when the sun had forgotten to set or the moon was shrouded with clouds and i had drunk too many coffees at three in the morning.

if heaven exists, it is somewhere deep below the depths of the sea where jupiter has lent its rings to protect us from the outer world, the one that exists beyond where we were floating.

where is our promised land? where is nirvana, elysium, paradise? it must be somewhere past these skies and far beyond this atmosphere.
a place not without sorrow but without prejudice, a place where this world did not despise and criticize and live in bigotry;
where we could stop ourselves from ruining ourselves, and where no poverty, war, or injustice exists any longer.
it is where my deepest thoughts reside, where my hopes dwelled and populated, and the lost dreams i had given up will live for as long as i do.

forever i had hoped to live in heaven, but in my heart i knew the only way i could get there was to die and i did not know if that was what i wanted.
i did not know whether that place existed at all.
 Jan 2017 galio
Seán Mac Falls
.
Red hair in my eyes,
Phones that do not ring,
Supper for one, old dishes,
Birds clearly calling to no one,
Moss on a roof, mute sun through
Glasses of wine, not fading voices,
Winds that saunter, sweeping —
Aloof, still pools in a wanton bower,
Fingers unclaimed in the witching
Hours, an abandoned bed watched
Over, slept upon, the sharp creeks
In a silent, boardered old house —
Where no one has simply moved,
The branches in the blanketed yard
Swaying like new dancers so free,
Grey bark that fell at foot of tree,
What will become of me?
 Nov 2016 galio
Seán Mac Falls
.
Coastal mist and mountains blue as ache—
Troubled waters in midair, streaming across
Such mirage of openness and tangled range,
When will the gathering skies sing me aloft?
 Sep 2016 galio
Onoma
As candle wick
is dead center,
its flame comes
up straight in the
burn.
Though there's always
a vestige of wind
to weigh against
wax...strange enough...
a candle seems to come
together the more it
melts.
Every which way...
weeping a tipping point.
 Sep 2016 galio
sarah crawford
it's been four months
since you left me
but it hasn't stopped hurting
it doesn't help
that you're dating the girl
who used to be my best friend.
it's been four months
and it shouldn't hurt so much
when i think of you
there have been others since you
but i end it every time
because you made me doubt everyone.
you said you loved me
and heck,
i loved you more than the sun loves the moon
and she sets every night for him.
i loved you with every atom of my being
but it wasn't enough for you.
i hope you're happy
that you ruined love for me
that i can't allow myself to get close to anyone.
i hope you're happy
as you continue to stab the knife into my back
while telling others what a nightmare i was
even though i treated you like you put the stars in the sky.
so please,
get out of my head and heart
you aren't welcome here.
 Jun 2016 galio
Styles
Untitled
 Jun 2016 galio
Styles
my fingers
woven into your flesh
like mesh; we mesh
I melt you with every breathe
until there is nothing left
but what is felt
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