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I.
safe respite from a scary movie
i woke with bags under my eyes
heartbeats under dryer sheets

II.
you could carry me quite far
i loved for you to grasp my hands
they smelled of sweat and cinnamon

III.
first cigarette sixth kiss
you wrote me notes, i burnt them all
of you i do not speak

IV.
you whispered as i wore
your granite jacket; i have yet to tell you that
it's been my favorite color since

V.
you were damp new leaves
weathering fall's best storm
and i destroyed you just as completely

VI.
wet rain long fingers
i rest and watch you speak
i believe
you may be
the final sequence
A poem for the humans I've fallen in love with.
Enclosed within a vagrant expression
Contemplating the outcome of It's social reply
Thought patterns hinder my dormant intuition
A speechless absurdity and the feedback I deny
Passively containing a rant of insanity
Left with naught but the extent of my vanity

An articulate diction holds no worth in the shy
Hesitantly pondering if the words will come out right
Choking on the pretense failure of what I don't apply
A decomposition of deductions may cause some delight
,but what is the purpose when I fail to confide?
All the comprehension and reflection that I hold inside?
The basement of my mind.

   Cluttered with **** storms and broken promises,
          Withered alongside reminiscent daydreams of passed past nightmares.

I stare...
   Into the internal dwellings of my deepest catacomb.

          Unable to process what resides in my literal unconscious dungeon.
   It's everything i've attempted to hide.

To die.
   To let dwindle between cobwebs and dust bunnies.

My breath falls short.

   Sifting through the residue of forgotten treasures and material shackles.
          They bond me.
Surround me.
   Overwhelm me...
          The unresolved burdens have taken residency within my hindered chakras.

My chest  is heavy.
   The weight distribution of disappointment is sharper than expected.

It eats away at me.
   An elusive daily ritual.

Tucked away it remains far from common thought patterns.

Waves of emotion.
   The tides roll in.
          Upon their migration my muddled secrets and hidden betrayals are uncovered.
               Discovered.

The look in your eyes when they fall upon my frailty.

My internal stack of unfiltered, unregistered, and unassured disheveled boxes.
   Full of disheveled useless things.
          Covered in a thick layer of problems i'm incapable of handling alone.

Alone.
   It sits unaltered and ever growing.

The piles.
    The filth.
          The remnants of what should have been happiness.

It all falls into misplaced sediments.

I'm a mess.
It's showing.
I'm naked.

    This hell.
This murky chamber of unwanted mementos from failed attempts and lost friendships
          This dreadful, endless room.

Oh, to live in a home without a storm shelter.
    Without room to store unnecessary baggage and all the unclaimed items in my mind.

To find solace in meager living.
   All this weight fitting into a backpack.

To minimize my insanity into a carry on.

   To leave.
To go.
    To be light enough to feel the light.

To escape this cellar.
     To live.

To release my self from my own idealogical prison.
    To penetrate the bars of fear.
          To dig myself out from all the things I never want to speak of.

To be free.
     Ahhh, to be free.

To breathe fresh air over molded dust clouds and stale particles.
     To touch without needing to rinse my soul clean.

To re-stack, rotate, and Tetris these piles of insecurities.

To break habits
           that i've reinterpreted from childhood addictions and failed father figures.

To be better than what i've become.

To set fire to this sham of a lifestyle.
     To be reborn in the ashes of this outgrown armor.

To let go.

To make you proud.
     To find pride in myself.

To not be embarrassed by my place settings and mismatched knick knacks.

To allow souls into my temple without them stumbling into my isolated lunacy.

To welcome love.
        To love.
    To love even the darkest crevasses of my being...

I need to renew my license to live.
     Overdue and out of line,
           My past self has expired.

One step at a time, breathe.
    One box at a time, breathe.
       One thought at a time, inhale.
    One lust at a time, exhale.

Inhale.
    Exhale.
Breathe.
        Repeat.

Awaken.
      Accept.
  Grow.
          Repeat.
Clearing space externally to open space internally.
 Jun 2013 K Daniel Little-Paw
fdg
I'm not sure if I really ever want to be happy,
or if I want to be tragic.

I can never answer
Which one is more fun?
They call it being the big spoon
The Big Dipper of the bodies
And you insisted on that being your job.
But it was the middle of the night
And you turned over
Letting me press my body against your back.
Fitting myself into all your open spaces
Nothing breathed between us
You reached out your arm
Pulling mine up and over
Hugging my hand to your bare chest.
And I
Listened,
My ear to your back
My hand to your heart
We beat in unison
And I
I couldn't tell who's heart was who's.
Tracing the freckles on your back.
Using the tips of my fingers
And my lips
To connect the constellations
Your skin glowed as if touched by stars
They are imbedded in your skin.
How were we supposed to know
That beneath the surface of your porcelain
That you were burning alive.
For the stars weren't those you wish upon
But those that scorch you from the inside out.
The ones that set you on fire
How were we to know that the constellations imbedded in your back
Were not constellations at all,
But veins filled with poison.
A cancer feeding on you
Destroying what you are
Burning stars,
Poisonous, deathly stars,
That big spoon
Pouring hot acid through your bones
Extinguishing the light that once enveloped you.
You lay here
And your eyelashes
They start to fall to your cheeks
You cry and
I say
Beautiful.
Glowing from the inside out,
I traced the Big Dipper into your back
How was I to know you were burning.

Make a wish, baby
It's not over until you stop fighting.
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