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There is no such thing
as a bad writer,
just one who isn't sad
- not sad enough.
you were looking at a shattered mirror
you thought I was the moon
laid long by your sorrows
i carefully tried to deflect your hopeful eyes
i pleaded for you to forget the past
but the clouds hid my meaning

you were listening to a flower whisper
you remembered it as a scar
a dandelion blown by caution
a heart trembling while sleeping
you were unable to open your eyes
but my dreams became your own

you once thought morals meant something
you learned it was only pride
a burning mind finally decided
nothing would be hard that you can make easy
once a mirror sees its purpose
a kiss can find the things you once lost
 Nov 2015 John michalski
Jenni
I just want to feel beautiful words
Drop them from your lips
Slick, and slimy
And sugar-sweet
Let me hold them
Close to my ribcage
And burn their characters
Into my skin
The pain is nothing
Compared to the emptiness
I feel when they're gone
I'll line my brain
With artfully worded lies
And plaster the walls
Of my subconscious
With pleasant portraits
Of a time and place
That never existed
Feed me beautiful words
Like candy coated arsenic
And let me feel something
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear
Like the empty promise of a faded tombstone
Gone, but never forgotten
Lay me to rest on a bed of wilted roses
And bury me in soil
Polluted by the labors of man
When the worms finally come
I will not permit them to lie
Inspired partially by the song Beautiful Words by Oscar and partially by a visit to an old Dutch cemetery.
 Nov 2015 John michalski
Court
GM 2
 Nov 2015 John michalski
Court
I don't know what to write about anymore
because you haven't held my hands to stop them from shaking in almost 2 months.
You used to ask "whats wrong?" when you saw that my nails were getting short and now you don't even call.
You say, "Everything I've ever known has left me." as if I was never there in the first place.
I know you won't say it, but I know she borrows your clothes
and I think its messed up that I saw her wearing the shirt I bought you last Christmas.
You told me to move on because it would help me but you already know I break everything I touch so I'm scared to move anything because I might touch someone's heart.
I remember when you denied everything we ever had because it's hard to own up to having feeling for someone nobody wants.
They told you in your calculus class to solve the problems but I promise you they weren't talking about me.
I want to touch my finger to the tip of your nose
then I'll get a spark from knowing all you know
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