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I think the best part of it was the almost.
We almost fell for each other.
We almost had everything together.
We almost were,
But we never were.
We were always just an almost.
 Oct 2017 Kaila Sullivan
She stared right into those eyes
that she still saw galaxies in
and whispered
"I'm leaving you."
I once descried chained feathers in the sky;
they swim from the swift breeze, so high.
Wings do falter, yet one still went by.
Ensnared on a garden; I yearn to fly.
When I was 10 my mum Told me that
I was special
The Next day was the First time
she told me to shut up
When I was 14 my Friends told me that
I was funny
The Next day I Heard them laugh about me
And when I was 16
You told me I was beautiful
You told me you loved me
You told me you would do anything for me
But I did not believe you
Because I learnt that people don't mean
What they say
And I did not want to get disappointed again
When I tried to be like you
I folded
When I tried to fit it in
I was torn
I somehow thought
If I become the wanted shape
I would be better
I just got further away
Now, as I unravel the mess
Tape and smooth and reshape
Let me reform
Returning to true
National Poetry Month 2017

Love, is an ocean.
Echoes in, forever, motion

Love, is a breath
Too deep, to chest

You asked me what Love was, once,...
& I, knew naught thereof

Are you a puddle,
or an ocean?

When those that you love
throw rocks,
do they fall
to silt or sand?

Can you,
under storm,
feel the calm,
as it falls deep

Because if you embodied Love
arms out, stretched
shore to shore

& you took the sun,
as you took the storms

Knowing everything
thrown at you,
it'd all fall
to the floor

where darkness
takes hand
to make it all
just, no more

For when you find,
your silt & sand
you'll rest easy,
with the done
& what can

& the second,
you see him,
It'll feel like
you've never felt love before,..

Because you're okay,
knowing pain,
is soon sand
The girl in the black
bathing suit swims
through my dreams;

her orange eyes warn
me that summer
is coming.

An inescapable
swelter of air
threads itself
through the slats
of picket fences,

crisping insects
and terrifying
an army of black birds
bivouacked in the trees.

I hear the soft explosion
of hibiscus, red petals as
bright as belly wounds,

and the heartbeat
of the dog panting,
stupefied by the heat
of a relentless star.

Up and down the street,
abandoned children call
out from the bottom of
empty swimming pools.

I slouch in an aluminum chair,
trying to get black-out drunk
on warm gin and tonics.

The tidy rectangle
of grass around me
ignites in a legion
of slender flames.

I remember the dark room
and my father’s deathbed,
his whispered, final words:
dying is thirsty work.

I strip to my underwear
and fantasize about ice.
I pray for the neighborhood
sprinklers to spring to life.
You look like a light-colored satin
Stars f
              l on your caramel hair
Your laureate crown is permanent

You walk fast as a local feline
L'Empereur far from his throne
You look disoriented
You look tired

It's nightfalling
Resolution parts
The moon shines
Gold minds

Lace L'étoile
Jeune ace
Shiny sleeves

I go through a mirror
You're sitting in there
I hide carefully
Not to be alert
I have found myself again
Dreaming of you inside
The reflection of your mirror

At night my opal
                           sleeves are made of satin.

   - Codelandandmore// 6:00 PM ©
Modern poem
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