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  Feb 2015 H E M
Katie
she gave up god but kept the angels

those beautiful boys with dandelion hearts and delicate wrists

the ones who made her heart shed light even when it was sundered

the boys who kissed her hands when they bled with words

when she played the piano song and they danced around the evergreen trees only to be pricked by pine needle swords

their wounds all healed, every single one, but the scars are still there and they look like sun rooms and roses and spilled tea

she kissed their foreheads when the night came and they all fell from the sky, with an images of heaven reflecting in their eyes

they were all angels without the divine
(k.m)
  Feb 2015 H E M
SøułSurvivør
~~♥~~

I used to think men
should be more like books
Both you cannot
judge by looks...

If I didn't want to finish reading
I put it down... no heart was bleeding

A book will never fuss or fight
It will stay with you
through the night...

It doesn't smoke. It doesn't drink.
It won't leave toothpaste
in the sink!

It doesn't binge... it don't eat...
It won't leave up the toilet seat!

It don't forget. It doesn't mope.
It won't hog the TV remote!

It doesn't have to have
The last say...
It doesn't have legs

to walk away.

But it's not soft. It isn't warm.
It doesn't keep you
safe from harm.

Even though it makes no fuss
It can't think. It can't discuss.

Even though it has its charms
it can't hold you in its arms.

It doesn't pine. It doesn't miss.
It can't hug and it can't kiss.

So now I think on it again...
... I think BOOKS should be
             more like MEN!!!



SoulSurvivor
2/20/2015
~~♥~~
  Feb 2015 H E M
L Marie
You are such a stalker--
Or at least your ghost is;
It keeps following me
Closer than my shadow.
I feel your breath on me.
I hear it in my ears,
I just can't see it now
Since you're right behind me.

Some people would be scared,
Others at least anxious
But you'd never hurt me;
You didn't when you could.

At night in the dark halls
I swear I see a hint,
A sliver of you, quick,
As I change direction.
My memory is clear
As it haunts my present
And perhaps I see you--
Your ghost, to cope with the
Loss.

— The End —