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jay Nov 2019
for i am a collector, seeker of beauty
appeal drools out of the pockets of my mind
death creates an entry to preserve, why must a take
this chance for granted?
for i am a collector, i take what i see,
and reform its original refinement by nature itself
a life form is only dead if one preserves it to be, taken to a frame,
it creates a form of life on its own
unable to move, unable to gaze,
but able to be wondered and admired by others
that is life, if it sparks a mind then surely
it does so within itself
when i took a trip and viewed the butterflies in the frames, i wondered the appeal and thought that went into preserving the dead, and framing it for many to see
jay Nov 2019
sweet
heart over mind
the words glistened
amid the cool air
nerveless hands
move as they please
a teenage wonder
cast into reality
curated from hearts of the mindless
now crowded with unfamiliarity
met with a stranger's gaze
bare trees brought forth
with my honey lemon tea
and a newly found haunting
lingers in my captive mind
bitter
and in the season of new lovers
ive found myself with a tangled heart
jay Nov 2019
teenage love is mindless
taken past the heart
before the conscious
  Aug 2019 jay
N
In a dream
I drank the color
of your eyes,
and swallowed
the tone
of your voice
jay Aug 2019
color is selective
and so is love
jay Aug 2019
maybe if my eyes
poured out the weight
and time of love
they would be looked at
by yours
a wish, for silence to be a confession
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