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 Apr 2015 Jaelin Rose
Only the sounds of soft moans and deep gasps will be the rhythm that our bodies will dance to. A cold paintbrush makes artwork along my canvas I call a body, and maybe you'll make something so beautiful I'll accept myself. We will spiral in love like a universe as the minutes go by but to us it's only stopping. Kissing, biting marks to only leave a trace that I was here, experiencing your beautiful body. To run my hands through your hair and hear you say my name in such perfection I feel it through out my body. I feel your lips drown in me and your taste runs in my veins, and every night i crave it. Your laugh as I'm thoroughly pleasing you makes me smile so much, as I kiss you softly. To have you melt in the palms of my hands, in comfort.  Falling into each other eyes like some kind of galaxy.
 Feb 2014 Jaelin Rose
Ian Cairns
It was a Wednesday
The September weather impersonated summertime shine
But my eyes were barbed wire to the shimmer
Twisted and tied shut to the summer
Refusing to adjust to the glow
I entered that classroom alone
An intruder
I thought we were all intruders there
Social Work 1140- Minority Perspectives
Peacefully confined to the classroom blackboard
Caged up reality for protected heads to understand
We all sat situated in straight lines
Staring at chalk too bright to comprehend
Silent minds creating the kind of noiselessness only known to tiptoe
We all tiptoed there
Wiggled into tiny seats small enough for suffering
Yet large enough for complacency
The pseudo-summer heat peaking through the curtains
Draped over certain advantages we dare not speak
We all closed our eyes in unison
Wondered when the suffering began
Wondered when the wondering would end
Avoiding chalkboard glares and awkward eye contact
But the chalkboard glares started staring contests
And the eye contact was too awkward to ignore now
I was a sophomore
I wore freight train headlights
I was a trojan warhorse in broad daylight
I was an intruder there

My professor excused our intruderness upon her entrance
Transforming foolishness to fuel the mood
She must be an intruder too
It was noon
And this room of undercover drummers
Marching to different tunes was nothing new for her
She saw the truth in us
Stared the vulnerability away
Spread sunlight sanctuaries through our brains
Our eyes no longer wandering through oblivion
Wondering when the wondering would end
It all began when she said
I think it's time we all open our eyes
We looked confused
Eyes expanding to bite size balloons
Placing helium time bombs at the foot of her news
I stared at the fuse
And she stared at our staring daring us to make the next move
But we refused
Cause it was barely noon
And that's too soon for collective movements
No time for any inch of improvement
We all refused to move
Thankfully she resumed
I want you to look around this room
And understand one thing
Your story is the only proof you bring here
The only sword you swing here
And this is no home for fresh bruises
We are all safe in this room

I sat there in silence
I've always been an overabundance of riches
A treasure chest filled to the brim
But in this moment my gold is good for nothing
My sword is null and void
Skull and crossbones to understanding
My Excalibur belongs permanently stuck in stone
I never opened my eyes that way before
Only saw what I assumed was true
My once royal empire collapsed around my desk
Tears dropped like fallen gemstones crashing the class discussion
I sat there in silence
I sat there alone
Refused to tell my story
Refused to feel so low
It's a tough pill to swallow
Acknowledging you have lived with privilege your entire life
So I sit here in silence
Choking on my silver spoon
Looking for the way to say
I don't want to be an intruder anymore
The beauty of her eyes are bold
Brighter than the glass that's blown
Hit the bowel of the soul,
She makes me feel week
Lovely like mink but, after her eyes look *****
Its okay because her lovelyness is what I seek
This wonderful feeling is magnificant
And thank you, love for noticing my small existance
**** I just want you to be happy
but i cant make that, I keep gasping
for air, to the chemicals I'm losing.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
 Jan 2014 Jaelin Rose
Ian Cairns
Attention class:
There's been a shift in our syllabus
There are some questions on my mind that warrant a new lessonplan: Does true love exist?
I will admit lately I've hypothesized that it's merely just a myth
Some wishful thinking from romantic half-wit heretics
So I'm assigning a soul mate science test
A pop quiz prophecy that could bind two of us together forever
Proving true love is suited for scientific vindication
If you respond to each question honestly
One trusty staple is capable of uniting this loose leaf love
Depending on your lead-based expressions
And their smudge-marked impressions
So please put your notebooks down
And pick your pencils up
Let's begin:

1. Is the beauty you possess easily represented in the thoughts you express?
Provide an ample sample size of your logic to suggest your loveliness works wonders.
2. Given that the fastest manned aircraft reached 4500 mph
If you spiraled down from the heavens at 9.8 m/s²
How long would it take for you to shatter record speed
And recognize that my arms are open to being your landing pad?
3. If your failures colored red and successes tinted blue
Became marbles piled high in mason jars
Would you let me embrace your entirety in the most worthy shade of purple?
4. Skin, rarely remembered, is the human body's largest *****.
Without caution, show me that your brain and heart
Are eager to become the king and queen of your anatomy.
That your organic vastness can infiltrate others' flesh majestically.
5. Think carefully. Who was the last man you kissed?
Are his lips worth enough for you to dismiss
A potential chance at creating unending bliss?
6. True or False: You would lie to me to spare a hurtful truth.
Provide evidence that you are comfortable revealing the undisputed details of your personal journal
Unraveling the spools of your most mysterious fibers.
7. Disprove Heartbreak Theory.
Show your work with mild-mannered mannerisms and sentimental illustrations.
Use crayons or colored pencils to emphasize your best intentions.
8. Chemistry is the study of the properties of matter.  
Using the periodic table of elementary emotions
Describe what matters most to you.
Remember to cite your sources of inspiration.
The inner workings of your engine that fuel your fondest explorations.
9. Fill in the blank spaces between my fingertips with your tenderness.
Is it a perfect fit?
If not, describe the characteristics possibly prohibiting this grip.
10. Cells are the smallest units of life.
Draw a diagram dissecting the little pieces of you
That belong in my possession at all times.
Include both strengths and vices.
Exhibit a sense of self-awareness that I can mimic
When I'm stuck inside my quicksand mind.

And one final reminder:
Remember to print your name legibly on the front page.
Failure to do so will result in catastrophe.
An unidentified masterpiece resulting in agony for you and I.
Practically reversing the critical proofs that your pen just described.
So let my eyes scan your signature with methodical joy.
And the curves of your cursive ink lines can become my mind's strongest ally.
Let me know you're willing to be known.
Because I need to know you're alive.
This girl is darkness and she’s beautiful.
She tells me to call her darkness.
She wears makeup I hate and always has a scowl on her face.
She threatens to break my legs if I touch any of her writing journals.
She rolls her eyes whenever I tell her I miss her.
She cancels our dates because she sometimes gets too anxious.
She sometimes lets me hold her hand.
She cries for hours after reading a book and she calls to rant about the characters she hates.
She refuses to wear the ring I got her on her finger so she wears it on a necklace.
She says she likes her nails sharp so she can impale her enemies with a flick of her wrists.
My girl is darkness and she’s beautiful.
 Jan 2014 Jaelin Rose
Confidence is barely present anymore, it was replaced with anxiety and panic attacks. The once secure and happy girl I was, she's nowhere to be found. She was last seen about five years ago, falling into a black hole of insecurity and fear. I became the person I swore I'd never be. I changed. Nothing about me is the same any longer, except my name perhaps. Never thought growing up would crush my lively spirit and squeeze the life out of me, like a lemon used to make a bitter glass of fresh lemonade. Growing up has its consequences. It makes you so much more aware of the chaos surrounding you, of the people you know, of the things you thought you knew so well. It gives you a taste of bittersweet truth, of reality and the dark parts of it all. You see the world like never before, and the insight gives you a glimpse of how things will be, later in life. As your emotions build up, your self-esteem lowers, and insecurities make a mess of you and ruins your outlook on everything, including life and love, you'll feel stressed, emotionally tired and life will never be the same.
Wrote this at around 3am this morning.
It's not a poem, just a late night vent, I guess.
 Jan 2014 Jaelin Rose
Ian Cairns
I see you

I've seen those eyes before
Drowning in patched-up paddle boats
With promises of tomorrow slipping down your face
Like saline shipwrecks fleeing harbor
And greeting the ocean floor with damaged handshakes
And now you're hopeless
Focused on could have been's and maybe one day's
Knowing one day
Swelled up storm clouds
Could slide through your cheek bones
Like sunshowers preventing your skyline parades
But I see you still searching for rainbows
Covering your face with two handfuls of imagination
Daydreaming of days where technicolor dreamcoats
Become wrapped around your soul
Like tuxedos for the bold

I've seen those arms before
Deafeated willow branches in the moonlight
Rebellious to rise upright
And now you're tired
Only fired up when your flesh
Converts to kindling on a campfire
Building sparks that shimmer for seconds
When your light deserves a lifetime
But I see you still inclined to shine brightly
Trying to assign meaning to your life with two inspired limbs
That can freely build bridges or climb mountaintops
Clinging onto hope with sturdy fists
Exploring the peaks of your potential

I've seen those legs before
Tattered toothpicks on prom night
Frozen in stage fright on the dance floor
Pressing muted prayers with each footstep
Into creaky floorboards waiting for silence to ensue
And now you're nervous
You're certain those two left feet can't possibly find the rhythm
So your shoes are the victims of bashfulness
Fearing one false step will uproot your jitterbugs
And place them alongside the butterflies in your stomach
But I see you still owning your insecurities
Because you know you're alive just fine

I see you
You are who I envisioned you to be
I see you
Brushstrokes of imperfections shaded in perfectly
I see you
It's more than just your typical hello
It's a phrase for all of us to speak solely with our souls
It can make you feel at home at the center of your bones
When all your hope is lost and there's no where left to go
So when I greet you
Listen carefully
This is a reminder that your eyes can be thunderous
Your arms can be victorious
And your legs can be ambitious
Your presence is necessary for this discussion
And your essence is accepted here
Let me speak your spirit into existence
Seeing is believing
And believe me
I see you
 Sep 2013 Jaelin Rose
L Smida
 Sep 2013 Jaelin Rose
L Smida
My lungs are
In a trap
And it hurts
From the
Amount of
Closing in
On me.
                              Crashing through waves
                              Of a dark storm
                              Over seas of
                              In my head
                              The dots
                              Of you
                              As we wonder.
     Splintering panic
     Moving at the
     Speed of light
     Through a
     Of arteries
     Out from
     My heart.
                         Standing alone
                         In shadows
                         Only echoes
                         Can reach,
                         A formation
                         Of mental objects
               Meeting in
               The middle
               My every
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