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 Apr 2016 Heather Valvano
Births and deaths
Debts and success
Floods and droughts
Cyclones and hurricanes
Earthquakes and tsunamis
Chaos and serenity

All in flux
Milling about
Constant movement
Constant din
Silence within
Raging against
the dry dry winds.

Another restless moment
in the universe
Stars are born
go cold and die
Galaxies collide
Black holes
no return
Super Novas
bring silence
to light years
eons wide

Another restless day
on the planet
in this our
moment of time
in this our place
in the universe.
My hearts on display and it's not worth much....
It's broken and stitched, torn and put back, bleeding and never healing...
My heart used to be worth more love then even your Mother could give....
Now it's worth how ever much you plan on giving me...
And all because...
You made me fall in love with you when I was already broken...
it hurts so much,
but I don't feel anything.
The tears don't come
even as I beg them
I’m so **** funny
I’m so **** great
Then why am I sitting here alone in hate

Hating the world
Nothing is fair
Hating on men
Hating the air

Why be alive
One more day
For what I ask
Take me, I pray

But I keep waking up
Over and over again
Asking the same question
When Lord, when….
 Jan 2015 Heather Valvano
Why do we go through
all of this stress?
So easy to forget.

Smoke a thousand
Another ****
another hit,
another poke,
Another whip,
another mindfield to avoid.

A ****** cut,
A ****** mind,
A ****** mouth.

Not just another disembodied
in the ether's ink.

Skin & Bones & Flesh
sharp and shooting
so easy to
She applied the latest fashion tips to her lips
and put on the newest dress to cover the mess.
I held her as she swayed in front of the mirror.
"I want to get away from here," she cooes in my ear.

It rains ridicule as she tries to be classic cool;
storms that brew from within-
and there's no way of knowing how it'll begin.
She'll say that she's a succubus
but I promise that she's a star and thus
destined to implode but shine beautiful before death.
And I await to be burnt by her deathly breath.

She says that she feels detached,
I read the message that has hatched
from ten eggs thrown from a wrist.
Her lips are mine but all I do is miss.
Her lips aren't mine and all I do is this.

I **** time with new noise and old sights.
She asks if I'll be home tonight
and I wish I could because I'd clearly sway thee,
macabre debutante lover baby.

Her name is Tricia and as I whisper,
her cheeks blush.
"Don't break hearts or mine too much."
I could say the say the same for you, my Josh.
Couldn't we all break broken signs
with the love we reallign?

I tantalize her lullabies with eager hands
and lethargic eyes.
I shoulder her and press her near,
and kiss her from neck to each ear.
She slides hands and traces each crease.
She runs her hands as soft as fleece.
My hands hide in her underwear
and she says,
"How did you remove all of my air?"
She fixes her hands and grabs my base,
I kiss each corner of her face.
Stroking, stoking my desire,
I ask her to lay naked by the fire.

I disrobe and throw each cloth on ground.
Tricia takes off her bra and there is no sound.
Her ******* make me eagersome
and, suddenly, I'm no longer numb .
I tell her that if it doesn't feel right
that we don't have to make love tonight.
She walks and her feet kiss the tile.
She says she wants to stay for a while.

We get lost in blanket and the cloth is soft,
as we move from the fire to a loft.
I tell her that her lips are silk,
her chest plays songs,
and her taste is milk.

Her feet appear behind my head,
and she bites her lip until I feel dead.
I place my hand between her thighs
and listen to each moan and sigh.

I hear her shudder as I break her soil
and I feel my body start to boil,
as I push in and kiss her nose.
She throws back her head
as her mouth can't close.

I wake up and she's next to me.
I kiss her forehead to thank for harmony.
I pick her up and let her bloom in my arms like a flower.
And then I walk her to the shower.
You mother ******* tease;
You can't come back, then leave.
He keeps coming back into my
life then leaving, ripping open
wide the original wound he
created. I can't stop letting him
back in, but he keeps hurting me.
The store mannequin
Was rejected,
Her stats didn't comply
For a window show
To show its wares
To a town of passersby.

Her Do wasn't quite couture,
Her ******* were just such,
The arms that loped
Across her chest
Looked a little butch.
Her belly with its ripples,
Was all a bit too much;
Her ***** profile it was thought
Was maybe just a touch...
Her hips which had male appeal,
Were thought a tad too light.
Her legs rose up like lamp posts,
Her feet a a smidgeon tight.
Hanging, covering all her faults,
A dress not draping right.

The window dresser
Across her harlequin face,
And packed her with
In the original crate.
What can I say. I like extended metaphors.
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