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 Jun 2015 Brooklynn Nights
collin
i want to build a castle
that will house all the arousing
words you throw around without
knowing where any of them are going
now you leave me no doubt
that your blouse will have found
it's own way to the ground
by the end of the night
 Jun 2015 Brooklynn Nights
collin
a defining moment
golden as it's rolled
in molten stone and
rose thorns
i'm torn apart but
can't be mad
i didn't see your horns
that's my bad
In a grassy ditch,
lets lie on our backs
until its dark enough to pretend
we're in a meadow far away from here.
There's a skyline in the stars
and we're young and determined enough
to plan to get right to the edge
of the milky way
someday, when our hands
have held the other's for so
long that there's an imprint in the lines
so deep a psychic couldn't tell
us apart.

We are the heroes in a miniature
wasteland world and there's a fire
in your eyes when you look out
across our kingdom
and declare that
hell has never burned so bright.

Having a happy ending is still
an ending. We carry tender
little tragedies wherever we go, and hope
one day, we'll be
older than our bones.
hello there.
We could be eternal
if fate didn't rest in our
crumbling lungs. The stars in your
eyes will eventually turn to
dust, but know that right
now the imprints of
constellations on your skin
are the brightest object
in the night.

Every story ends and even
heroes die.

But know there's something divine
in the heart-palpitating chaos of
everlasting
stillness.

May
wild beauty
in these decaying
words
be what I leave behind.
just trying to find something pretty to say.
sometimes things glow a little,
most often when I’m not looking
like little holes poked in my head,
little circles of sunlight shining in a dark place
you let me grasp at you because you are my reality
you hang me around your neck
and many days I would call myself a noose
but you still look at me like I grace your head
and your heart
and the space in between
I’m so heavy, I’m so much,
so much,
so much,
too much.
yet, you carry me.
you hold my cold hands
and kiss them like they don’t break you every night
I want to hold your head in both of my hands
kiss your forehead
your nose
your cheeks
your lips.
let me love your humanity gently.
I see where the outline of your heart is slightly off,
I see where something was erased
and redrawn just a little differently
I see where experience tinged the world for you
and sometimes I just want to take permanent marker
and write
I LOVE YOUR SWEETNESS, I LOVE YOUR IMPERFECTION
on your heart
so many times that
maybe
you start to think that love is a good thing,
that you are a good thing,
a blessing and a pleasure.
I will kiss your knuckles even when you turn them blue and purple.
I am not here to fade away.
I am so tired
and you feel like
the most beautiful, peaceful, permanence.
I wish kisses could leave
scars, and pain
would leave no trace of its
presence behind. I've been
to so many places with strangers
and each time I imagined it was some version of you
with me instead.

Save our own hearts by
entering another. Devouring another.
I'm not sure what love is
but faulty incantations, a changing
forecast in stormy minds.
I'm denying myself again from touching
the truth because

holding someone forever and
into eternity
is difficult to comprehend for
a mind that feels more alone when looking
at the stars,
for someone who feels like an intruder
in the house they grew up
in, and is still searching
underneath doormats for "home".

It would be nice for a breeze to catch
my lungs like a net
and whisk me away from
where I stand
against myself. I'm hoping sooner or later
I'll get lost enough in a warm place
that wholly embraces me in ways
I can't for myself.
in love with love but not quite sure where that puts me. as always, thank you for reading x ivy
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