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 Oct 2016 Johnnie Rae
Morgan
I got elbowed in the stomach
At 9 o'clock tonight

I was working
And the woman
I was working for
Stole the wind
Right out of my lungs

And I bit my tongue

And I swallowed blood

Which tasted like
Rusted metal,
Salt water,

And acidic anger
Burning in my gums

I don't get paid enough
To feel like my ribs are breaking;
Trying so hard not to cry
I'm literally shaking

Well, ****,
I have no one to talk to

My best friend called
An hour later
To tell me all about
The party she's going to
With kaylee and alexa;
She's dressing as Crown Royal,
I don't know what that means
And I don't ******* care

She doesn't ask how I am
And I don't tell her
She doesn't really wanna know
And I don't really wanna say it

There's a distance

A fluctuation in her voice
That reaches a place
My ears can't get to

I don't hear her sometimes
When she talks about the things
She loves

And I don't know why

Why I'm so disconnected
From twenty-two

I'm not above it-
I like to think I'm not beneath it-
Maybe just floating somewhere
In the atmosphere that surrounds it

My boyfriend is much prettier
Than anything my hands have ever held
And his voice is softer than
The blanket I bought Kiernan
On her birthday,
The one she doesn't use...

He's really deep
When he's sleepy

He makes no judgement
When I'm angry

He isn't coping
With his condition
Lately

But I've never coped with mine
So who am I to mention

I guess I'm just feeling weak
I'm just feeling kinda hazy
I'm just feeling sorta empty

I'm just feeling

Feeling

A little bit
Too much

Feeling

Maybe
Just not enough
 Oct 2016 Johnnie Rae
mads
I had a dream last night,
You were there but without a face like usual.
We stood atop a cliff,
I stood too close to the edge like usual.
I recall a deafening silence bouncing off the waves.
You couldn't hear them bash against the rocks.
I turned my back upon the sun,
Setting deep into its routine slumber.
I faced your faceless face and I spoke softly,
Loud enough to break apart the silence;
Like great claps of thunder,
'Tell Mum I fell'.
You didn't flinch when
I stepped backwards;
2 steps too far.
Maybe we'll see.
 Aug 2016 Johnnie Rae
Morgan
Blowing kisses to the Carolina's,
I have a migraine that won't give.
I thought if I took my body
955 miles away from your body,
I'd lose interest in the contents of your soul,
But I was wrong again.
It feels like I'm wrong all of the time lately.

And I keep telling boys with pretty eyes
and traditional tattoos that
I love them,
and I wanna believe that I do,
that I'm even capable of loving
any man that isn't you,
but somewhere in the back
of my skull,
hidden under the debris
of every foundation I tried
to build over the memory
of your chest,
there is a sink hole
that I keep pushing them into.

I kissed a boy with black grease
on his finger tips, tan skin,
and big brown eyes.
For a moment I thought
I wouldn't mind
taking care of him.

But I woke up in the middle
of the night,
his arm slung over my rib cage,
his dreaming breath against my neck,

And I didn't wonder what
the pictures behind his eyelids looked like
or what his voice sounds like first thing
in the morning when there is still a bit
of sleep caught in his throat.

I just squirmed out from under his touch,
rolled over to face a white wall,
and wondered if you were lying on your back
starring into your ceiling,
Or eating chicken wings at
the foot of your bed.
I smiled to myself for a second
imagining you smoking
a blunt in the driver's seat of your
beat up SUV,
looking into the stars longingly.

And then I swung my feet
onto his unfamiliar vinyl floor
and slipped into a bathroom
down the hall.
Splashing cold water against
my flush skin
to shock the pain
out of my forehead.
Shivering to the image
of myself staring back at me
in a bathroom that I didn't recognize,
I wondered if I'd ever
get your fingers out of my spine

I hate who I am
when I'm pretending
not to miss you

But I hate who I am
but I hate who I am
I hate who I am

And I miss you
I really really
miss you
 Aug 2016 Johnnie Rae
Morgan
Smoking a cigarette,
With my knees touching the ocean's edge;
A display of life and death-
The shortness of my breath,
Over the vastness of the ocean

All at once
The world seems
So small,
Captured in the filter
Between my finger tips,
And yet,
So big,
I can't imagine
All of the people
Looking into
The same sea as me

That's how it felt to
Fall in love with the right person
At the wrong time

Like certain death
And endless potential
Without gravity,
And anchored to the ground
In the same night

Like roaming aimlessly,
The entire universe
In front of me,
But hitting a brick wall
Before I even got
To see the sun set

I can't tell anymore
What was real
And what was hopeful,
If we are star crossed lovers,
Or two depressed kids
Who couldn't hold it together,
Not even for each other

Is there more to this than
You've let yourself believe?
Or, are you right?
Was it just wrong?
Does the space between us
Even need to exist
To keep us apart,
Or would we be in separate beds
Anyway?
Death

I've been thinking about it a lot lately.
No. Not thinking about dying, but about the whole concept of it.

Death
The end of life.
The only thing we all share.

There's a million different ways of dying, some better, some worse, but the outcome is always the same.
Some get it sooner. Some get it harder. Some get it painful.
What do I think?
I think death is the ultimate goal.
The cure for this terrible disease called life.
The end of all suffering. A state of eternal bliss.
Peace

It hurts when someone close to you dies.
It hurts me too, even though I know they are far better than we, the living.
Life hurts. Life stings. Life kills.

Many people fear death.
No one fears death. We fear the way we die.
We fear the uncertainty of what comes after it.
So what comes after death?
Decomposition of the body. That's it.
Your conscience is as gone as your body, and neither will come back.
Everyone may believe what they want spiritually, religiously or whatever.
Physically, the fact remains the same.

Death
The end of life.
Eternal bliss.
The thing I fear you catch before me.
It is a cult we all adore.
The god we fear.
The one true god we get to meet.
A grim entity that handles us with the utmost care and love.
A cold embrace that doesn't let go.
Numb.
A symphony of silence.
White paint on a white canvas.
An unsculpted statue.
A figureless sleep.
The most rude awakening.

Death**
My most recent thought.
 Mar 2016 Johnnie Rae
brooke
this is a love letter to my body.



this isn't a love letter to my body
because I so often hear people say that i
am a spirit with a simple packaging, someone
naturally without form but capable of so much
splendor.

they say love the skin you're in, but I say love
the spirit, hiding.  Love the spirit who came
to these fingers and said yes, who took
residence in those legs and cried out in
joy, who found richness in a gift without
precedent, love the spirit that reached
out with itself and grew a soul in
a shell, where you thought no roots
could gather, where you doubted the
integrity of a creator's hand,

Love the spirit, sitting here. A warm whisper
of a girl pulsing in the spotlight, who never
asked for your blame, for your guilt and
headstone, for the things you said when
you were mad, or the disgusted turn in
the mirror when dissatisfied with the
the coat for a never-ending winter
the vessel for without
she might seep into the very
earth and cease, be raw as
a blister against the wind
and seek shelter against
the other realms--

love the spirit, here.  Because
though the lights are dim and
the tunnel is long, train tracks
need a destination and birds
never fly without a place to
land.

love the spirit, here.
love the spirit here.
(c) Brooke Otto 2016

this has been in my drafts for a while.

written september 17th, 2015.
 Mar 2016 Johnnie Rae
Morgan
I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
people drink coffee and stare at
from studio apartment windows
and under pretty white gazebos ,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that falls soft at first,
and then harder,
and then soft again,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that smells sweet
and makes flowers grow
in the spring time,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that collects in pretty puddles
in the pavement
so that toddlers in rubber boots
can jump in and splash
their parents,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
that lulls crying teenagers
to sleep in their warm beds
or makes lovers miss one an other,

I'm rain
but not the kind of rain
people watch and listen to
with gentle acceptance,

I'm the kind of rain
that falls fast and hard,

the kind of rain that is cold
and hurts sun burnt shoulders
when it hits them,

the kind of rain that washes
pretty chalk paintings off of
drive ways in suburbs
without a second thought,

the kind of rain that
seeps through ceiling tiles
turning cozy little homes into
chaotic whirlwinds of
anxiety and destruction,

the kind of rain that
makes your joints ache
and your eyes red,

the kind of rain that
gets the kids out of the pool
and sprinting inside,
cold, wet, and uncomfortable,

the kind of rain that
washes leafs into
your gutters,

you curse it all week long,

the kind of rain that
only wanted to touch the earth,

to feel some semblance of warmth,

but the kind of rain that
doesn't know how to
leave the thunder at home,

the kind of rain who
breaks the things
it loves,
no matter how
hard it tries to be
gentle...
VBR
Why can't I write you something to make you fall in love?
You're so complicated to me, but also quite simple
You stay at a safe distance from me, but you're still the one I feel the closest to
It's no secret you are the one with whom I get along the best
You get me, and I get you
But there's still one thing you don't get,
and it is that I'm enamored of the way you are
Maybe you don't like it, but there is one person who'd never change a thing about you:
Your slim figure
Your contagious smile
The cigarette in your hand perfuming your clothes
The music that you listen to, which doesn't bother me anymore when I listen to it with you
The grimaces you make
The way you talk
The way you feel and the way you think
Your cinnamon coloured skin
The different colours of your hair
The way you dress and the way you undress
The way you told me you loved me a year back
The way you are so feminine
The way you are a friend
The times we spend talking about nonsense
The times we spend talking about everything
Is there anything else I can say?
I adore you
You fascinate me
You caught me without knowing or wanting to
Now I wonder what you might feel.
An interrumpted heartbeat
A crooked candle half lit
A careless wander into the pit
The suffocating summer heat

A self inflicted chest pain
Messing with the lion's mane
Diagnosis: not insane
Walk on on the empty lane
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