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Haley Warmuth Dec 2015
some days it's fine
some days my bones ache and scream
to find your familiar touch
to find that safe place between your ribs
which so perfectly held my head

some days it's fine
and I don't see you in the grass
or all the colors in the clouds
they've drifted apart
just like us

some days it's fine
and i kick back with the whisky
we used to drink
with each drop i cherish the memory
of what you left me with

some days it's fine
other days i sit here
writing poems
to heal the wounds that have yet to fully
close
Haley Warmuth Oct 2014
my bones feel dry
since your whisky kisses dried up
and the bottle too

i've written nothing since your whisky
numb
off liquor licks and honey kicks
now i'm writing
and feel nothing,
but the whisky

you slapped me with rainbow color
now thats grey too
i told you i didn't love you
but really
i do

and it burns too

deep.
Haley Warmuth Dec 2013
you slapped m'asss wit rainbow paint
then fed me liquor all night long
it was good
tasted like honey
your attention like kisses from someone you'ont know
rushing to that red faced place
where i thought i was blushing
at yourslurredwords
but really i was flushed
and crowded
and felt you
pouring o'r me like rainbows after rain
Haley Warmuth May 2013
mad world

sad world

bad world with a cigareete in your hand

and a gun down your throat, pop off that cap

of that coke, let it slide down your throat

pooling in the pit of your coat

pocket it, lock it up and throw away the anecdote

that moves you from one being to another and

rides your waves into the next lover

loving every moment of your ten second fame

frame it and loathe it

because it grows upward and outward

branching out, limiting the route that you take

and moving you at a high speed rate

speed ball faster than a super nova,

from over the rainbow and down to the pit

with witch you write your wit and your lick

which sit like whips in the hand of someone more fit

for your position, transition forward and for warn those before you

that the cap in your lip and the trick you can’t flip

exist from things we don’t get

like this mad world

this sad world

this undying, full-flying bad world

that we create

from anger

from love

from up above we put our fate

when its down on the ground that preaches hate

and fear

hear the dawn coming fourth

the sun will come up, and the world will spin

until then keep running your pace

save face

lay waste to this earth, blame it on race

then look back and remember

one feather makes one part of a whole wing

and two wings make a bird take flight

a flight that moves mountains, making height their plight

the tallest leaf of the tallest tree

must be the happiest

stretched to the sun, with only clouds as blocks

reach forward and stretch to the ends of this earth

this world

this mad, sad, bad world

pull the trigger, flip the cap

and bloom out of the dust

up to the sun

fill your lungs with the rust of aged earth

and breathe
Haley Warmuth Apr 2013
your liquor lips

drip down my quick to shiver spine

and the hairs stand

and drink your drips

of your liquor lips

until theyre drunk off kisses and stand tall

feeling the drip drip drips of each wet kiss

and the movements of your liquor kiss

drip drop onto my thighs

accepting each drop like the grass takes in the rain

******* in the moist air and the pair of hearts that move

as one

drip

drop

drip

liquor lips
Haley Warmuth Mar 2013
I want to feel you
just a touch of soft thought
thought that wraps its way up my legs, pushing into my being
and out of my worn heart
a kiss that lingers longer than a dying star
flickering quickly and bursting into a thousand moments
that you cannot take away

I wan to feel the breath of each crushing minute
as life moves in waves, so do our bodies
waves that caress the shore of my entity
and wash across my thighs
sweeping over my body,
encompassing what is known and unknown
until you melt into my skin
molding love and life
into
one
single
being
Haley Warmuth Mar 2013
In our hammock
We couldn’t be touched
Because we were untouched
Untouched by the ground workings and up
From concrete cavaliers and spiral shaped spears
That aimed to wind and rope around the throats of what was already constricted
Instead, pricked by the roots and bark of a growing seed
And wrapped wholly in the warmth of the moon-lit face of a space so close, touched only by shoulders
And felt across lengths until the sky burst open and touched,
Our hammock
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