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Julia Jan 2015
It's always happy above the clouds
The bluest blues
Heavenly sun blankets the cotton white nimbus
If joy were a royal shade
I would've seen joy
Good thing this cold summer land makes me feel it anyway
Julia Nov 2014
You know how air is just always around
And if you go swimming
And stay underwater a second too long
You come up gasping, so grateful to have that
Unnoticed necessity back in your lungs
It feels the same when I kiss you
And the moment it stops I thirst
For that same embodiment of warmth
Comfort, safety and that four letter word
That your lips breathe into mine
Julia Nov 2014
A pleasantly bubbling creak murmurs softly, complacently flowing as a creak does, day in and day out
By the crumbling bank stands a strong willow tree, rooted by the prolfic stream
Thoughtlessly taking the water of which it needs, a simple commodity to a tree of such stature and poise
And gracefully, beautifully shivering at the base of his trunk, there lives a daisy, white and pure
The willows roots indulge themselves, thirsting, thirsting for more
Negligent to the flower below who makes its view that much more lovely
Than just a simple stream, and who provides to the animals and children a blustery smile
Beckoning them to the shade where they might play and the daisy might watch over them
And as the roots take and take they choke the misguided flower, leave her to wither
One soft petal falls to the grass rendering her no more than a tainted ****
No child will ever present her to his good mother now
Not now that she is no longer the pure beauty she once was, not with such an imperfection
And though she may beg for mercy, she must weaken and give herself to the strong roots of the willow
Until she is but a dying cause with browned stale edges and though she lay so close to life, stable life
She does not possess the power to take rein so she the sage awaits the logger in silent knowingness
Julia Nov 2014
Hey there gorgeous, flash a smile
  Don’t look back, stand straight, you’re fine
Learn to accept a compliment you ****!
  Face hot in the cold wind, tears threaten to fall
  I move on. I am strong.

With the number of boys I kiss, it doesn’t matter
  (all laugh) but why can’t you kiss whoever you’d like?
Can she really pull off that dress? When she, yaknow, looks like that?
  (she can wear whatever the **** she wants) I don’t know, I think it’s cute
  I compliment that girl. She is strong.

Don’t pick that up! Let a man! You’ll get hurt!
  With my strong thighs that lift better than ripped arms?
Don’t worry; the female body can just shut that whole thing down
  With what pre-installed ****-detector application?
  How are such ridiculous notions passed publicly as truth?
  I overhear a young girl correcting her boyfriend’s slur. We are strong.
Julia Nov 2014
Glaring at one person and one only
He silently tells of his secrets, those of his creator
A message bound to draw me in; us in
A centralized herald installed at a dreary post
Julia Nov 2014
pour chaque "je t'aime" dit
il existe cent plus qu'on dit
seulement par les yeux
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