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your poem read,
awoken by lightening flashes of
morning notifications arriving,
postmarked from
"I liked it"

but it does not
end there,
continues,
to a new ending

who and why,
who and why,
did this one find
their own
worthy in it
that was writ unknowingly
just for them

and
you look them up,
guessing
who and why,
rereading your hand's work,
which verse was it,
was it for a blessing or a
curse,
that touched them,
that made them
touch
you

each "like,"
a work in itself

re examined,
re searched,
re imagined
in the
light of
who they are
and
why they are
liking words I wrote

a single poem
bring hours of imagination,
each "like"
individually gift wrapped,
each human liking rapt,
each imagine a rapture,

each "like"
a new poem
about the who and why
each name a disguise to unravel,
each name a title
of a new different,
imagined poem,
who and why,
we
like
each other

~~~
6:53am
 Sep 2015 Kate Breanne
Me
Eberyday i get up
Brush my teeth
Get dressed
Have breakfast
Go to work

And hope to overtake your heart with a tiny little blink of the eye or a touch of my fingertips to your shoulder.

Everyday.
You are sweet, people.
 Sep 2015 Kate Breanne
Just Melz
I don't typically get inspired by flowers or trees,
But sometimes,
I'm moved by the way the wind breathes through the leaves.

I'm not usually hypnotized by beaches or the ocean,
But every now and then,
I feel a connection to the waves, how they crash, over and over again.

I can't say I'm always motivated by music or a catchy beat,
But occasionally,
A song plays and I can't help but get up and move my feet.

I haven't felt inspiration in many things before
But today I realized,
You captivate me, draw me in, every day, more and more.

Your voice, your smile, your eyes, even all your bad moods,
All the time,
You inspire me to write, to laugh and to simply DO.

I guess what I'm trying to say is...
You're my muse.

And I love you.
We will share this death
Unrest with subtle detection
Further collapse
A lighter consumption
Agony prone
Shutters open to relax veins
Focus with a decayed world
You're still learning to stand
Remembering the end
Passing twisted resonance
Bottled winter
Half-bruised with buried innocence
You want to be known
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