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Haley Feb 2014
and there goes my heart.



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along with the ***** I give.
Haley Feb 2014
God I'm such an awkward kid.
I can't even flirt right.

It was close to midnight
You were at a track meet,
I was at a community fest.
Your car was in the parking lot.
It was *****.

I took my chance.
I ran up to it and wrote
UR CUTE ♥ PROM?
Writing like that so you wouldn't think it was me.

I wonder what you're thinking...
Haley Feb 2014
You know how when you were little,
Your mom would tell you to
Blow on your soup, let it cool -
But you didn't listen to her anyways?

And what happened?
Your tongue got burned,
But you didn't care because
The soup was just so good.

When you finished, you noticed
That your tongue began to throb,
Your tastebuds were exposed - raised and irritated.
It hurt.

Every time thereafter,
You ate your soup with caution
(You blew on it and let it cool)
Because you never wanted to feel that pain again.

That's kind of like love.
The first time, you fall too fast
Letting the passion burn through you
And when it ends, you swear to yourself:
You'll never let someone hurt you like that again.

But you still want soup, you still want love.
You crave the warmth and happiness it brings you.
So instead of giving up on it completely,
You approach it cautiously...
{You blow on it, and let it cool}
Burned my tongue on soup, and had a revelation.
Haley Jan 2014
If
we were
blind, there would
be no crime committed.

There
would be
no jealousy or
envy, but instead equality.

Love
would be
easier to find,
without looks and ego
interfering all the god ****** time.

Instead
of looking
at people's appearance,
we'd learn to love their thoughts,
their voice; their soft touch against our skin.

Life
would be
simple, if we
could not see. We would finally
have the chance to be
*happy.
Haley Jan 2014
An angel perched upon my shoulder -
His hair askew, and his eyes a-smolder.
In a whisper, out of breath,
Turned his head and asked for a cigarette.

"Where are your wings, if you're an angel?"
I asked as I handed him a cancer-stick.
"Why do you assume me to be of God?"
This angel rebuttal-ed rather quick.
He lit his cancer-stick.

He sighed and carried on,
"I am not holy or of grace,
that's why I got sent to this ****** place."
"Earth?" I asked rather curious.

"Earth?", the angel snickered.
"Honey, believe me, I can tell,
that we are undeniably in Hell."
His words ran thick in my blood.
That angel began to smile.

It suddenly got really hot
and my skin began to boil.
And the last thing I remember
was that devil on my shoulder.
*not completely done with it. it doesn't flow like I want it to.*
Haley Jan 2014
You left marks on me
Some were visible,
Some were not.

Some were shades of
Red, purple, blue and green.
Others were not.

Your lips constructed these
Marks of passion
Upon my porcelain skin.

When noticed,
My temperature rises,
I flush, I blush.
[Yet I wince when they're touched.]

There are these marks,
Invisible to the eye
But they cover every inch of my body.
[I smile because of these.]

Your fingerprints
Have danced
Along my body
Like a ballerina on a stage
Emitting waves of love
Into my bloodstream
Pumping through my veins
Causing my heart to beat only for your touch.

Passion leaves marks of red,
Love leaves my skin unblemished.

Red marks often hurt
Because passion never lasts.

Marks of love leave me
With life that ever-lasts.
Thoughts at midnight.
For you, once again.
Haley Jan 2014
Your love cuts me
like a knife
&
I am happy
to bleed for you.
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