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You are quiet night with a dim white light
Bring the warmth of the darkness into the blue
When droplets of rain fall slowly
Dancing gently in the breeze
It is like an art that springs from the dawn
You are mystery of beauty
When sapphire moonbeam is more impressive than the cold sea
This is our very own '84
they watch where you've been
they see what you wore,
who you were with and who's
given who what,
recorded and sorted
filed and reviewed,
I wonder what kind of a camera
they use and
when do
they choose to use it.

This is our very own '84
we've been eighty-sixed.
All night the army came up from Gilgal
To get to the killing field, and that's all.
In the ground, warf and woof, lay the dead.
I want to die in My own bed.
Like slits in a tank, their eyes were uncanny,
I'm always the few and they are the many.
I must answer. They can interrogate My head.
But I want to die in My own bed.

The sun stood still in Gibeon. Forever so, it's willing
to illuminate those waging battle and killing.
I may not see My wife when her blood is shed,
But I want to die in My own bed.

Samson, his strength in his long black hair,
My hair they sheared when they made me a hero
Perforce, and taught me to charge ahead.
I want to die in My own bed.

I saw you could live and furnish with grace
Even a lion's den, if you've no other place.
I don't even mind to die alone, to be dead,
But I want to die in My own bed.
HOW DARE YOU YOU *******
WHO ARE YOU TO HAVE FEELINGS

He likes to pull out his heart from time time to time
He looks at it and weeps as it beats silent and the world turns
He kicks me when I'm down leaving calico purple patches
He tries to rip apart the one who brought him here
But for us both he mostly settles for the words
He doesn't care until we wrestle his heart out of him
Then he ******* cries like he's sensitive

GROW THE HELL UP
THE REST OF US HAVE

The Trial Run is trying to separate herself from the intoxications
brought by men but stumbles down the sidewalk home...
I stopped pounding my words into his back because
he doesn't have time to be broken by me anymore...
The Elder creates his faux world because
everyone but me has exiled him out of the real one...
The Proper splits and I watch it happen to him as it happened to me,
still happens, angels and demons we hide inside...
The Child runs after the **** ups seeing rainbows
but devoid of color because he think's that's what age means...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6GIGL0K1UI
I want to talk to Andrew... (Mr Class of 2013, not Rhymes with Purple)
The sky bleeds into my hair
Sunset leaks into my eyes
In this moment I look changed
He asked me to stay in this
Moment with so many words
Where my hair is more gold
My eyes are caramel not black
And my smile shines bright
But I let the sun slip down past
The horizon because I was
Afraid so he left for his future
While I stayed drowning in
Our past now I don't want to let
It slip away this time,
                                      *into the snow...
Your twentieth birthday is soon
and I'm no longer your favorite one to lie to.
I have a flower
Blooming
It started blue
But as it grows
It's petals are yellow
Brightly framing
The purple
And pink core

The gardener
He planted it there
On my thigh
And my mother wonders why I don't like to garden with her...
I claw at my skin                                                                                                  
and the black leaks out                                                                        
and I watch it snake                                                        
down from my throat                                  
and over my chest                    
until the streams  
                eventually pool
                       at my feet

                                My mind cries
         out echoing
between my ears
until it spills                      
out through my eyes                    

I am in an ocean                          
  dark and grey                

The black      
of my heart                
swirling around                      
the salt                                                
from my eyes                                                    
I can't escape                                                                    
the current I've                                                                                
trapped myself in                                                                                    

And I drown
I remember your face, so I'll write about your scars.
I remember your heart, so I'll scribble apart
broken lines about good times and our promises in the dark.
And I'll write about your scars.
The one that ran from your eye to your ear,
that I told you was beautiful, and I meant it.
The one that made it hard for you to see or hear,
how beautiful you were; That I really meant it.
I remember your eyes, both of them so deep and so brown.
You hated your eyes, and wished they were more light or more dark.
I remember your hair, on your head like a fiery red crown,
But I'll write about your scars, because that's what broke us apart.
And because, in the end, that's why I'm writing you down.
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