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 Aug 2015 heisenvader
Lexie
Is to die to yourself
Be born of a soul
Live in these words
And never be quite whole

Just an opportunity
To fill an expanse
Never pass it up
Take every chance
paint me with all those messy colors and broken brushes.
paint me with your rough hands and scrappy fingertips.
paint me with all your love and your regrets.
paint me in a dark room with uneven breath.
paint me with dried out lips and the tip of your tongue
paint me all night till you're halted by the sun.
I love you, I do.
I have waited a lifetime
just to call you mine.
 Aug 2015 heisenvader
AMcQ
-Wither-
 Aug 2015 heisenvader
AMcQ
The
distorted
feather of
cigarette
                 smoke
                                         trails
                              upwards.
             It dances
                                    on the
                                             first
                       wisp of wind;
escaping
                 the draw
                                 of cracked
                weasened
lips.
Lips
formed of
                                      withered apple skin
                                                         and stale coffee;
                                            of puckered
                         mouth
              and deep
inhales.
                             Hunched shivering
                                                       shoulders hoist a
                                                                                            shaky hand
                                                                                          toward the
                                                                                    face.
                                                A raspy exhale releases
                        another puff of smoky breath.
The icy air exaggerates
the capacity of old
and tiring lungs.

I foresee this rarely preempted fate.


I quit!
Real heroes don't call themselves heroes.
Real heroes silently serve.
rarely do my lips actually open, anymore
it's always my hands that do the talking
mimicking my own voice
with the sounds of pens scribbling against crumpled and reused pieces of paper

the speech has to fight through my mouth to see light
having been out of order for such a long time, my tongue has been algaefied, my teeth eroded, and my lips rusted
social media
has killed my
social skills
and i'm two feet tall, trapped behind a sheet of glass, with an empty speech bubble hovering over my head
blah, blah, blah
Kiss the girl whose hair
is piled atop her head,
like her thoughts;
tumbling down in bundles of curls
as they overflow.

Kiss the girl who drags you out
from beneath awnings &
makes you face the rain,
while she dances fearlessly
in a soaked, diaphanous sundress.

Kiss the girl who insists on
preparing you tea &
pouring it in your presence;
inviting you to witness
the intimacy of simple ceremony.

Kiss the girl who breaks
the stillness of occupied space
to reach out & encompass your hand;
seeking the sensation of your being
to comfort her through silent moments.

Kiss the girl who takes
up into her arms
your scattered inclinations & obsessions;
teaching herself to love & nurture them
as if they were her own.

Kiss the girl who envelops you
with her sultry sentiments &
provokes you with her precocious intellect,
leading you to question
all concrete belief.

Kiss the girl whose
very existence embraces you
like a contented sigh or the kiss of sunshine
one might play beneath
on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Kiss that girl & kiss her deeply,
& with considerable intensity;
as if to break the seal between your lips
would shatter her
into a thousand pieces.

& do not let her go.
 Aug 2015 heisenvader
Leyla Jude
I keep making mistakes all the time
Without even learning my lesson
To me, life seems just so unkind
I often wish I was still seven

I regret pretty much everything
What I did and what I couldn't do
I'm not even good at forgetting
Even though I'd really like to
 Jul 2015 heisenvader
Doofinity
Soul
like the moon,
wax and wane
thy heartful tune.
Mind
like the sea,
ebb and flow
thy poetry.
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