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Kaliko May 2015
The bitter yet sweet of this delicate confection,
leaves me gawking at its quite utter perfection.
One bite sends me off onto a relaxing voyage,
with soft truffle filled clouds- never a shortage.
Kaliko May 2015
The lonely rain falls heavily,
abandoned by the wind now,
seeking comfort in the land.
Kaliko May 2015
I am entirely devoted to maintaining my sanity,
My body and soul is suffering from sever exhaustion.
Teenage hormones amplifies conflict severity to what its not,
I am told my life isn't bad, others are worse, so what?
Are all my feelings just an illusion, just a misconception?
Do all my experiences amount merely to a web of lies,
One in which I am the helpless fly caught on a thread,
Continuously struggling and pulling, only to further constrict,
While in actuality all I had to do was wake up from my dream.
Kaliko May 2015
The breathtaking view of soft falling crystals,
glimmering when caught in the morning rays,
provokes bitter-sweet nostalgia- though I know,
we are in the time of now, they will forever linger.
Kaliko May 2015
The sweet tickle of the fleeting whisper upon my ear,
sends wave like sensations of heat through my body,
like a drop, adding to the pool of accumulated desire.
Kaliko May 2015
Wailing bitter, sorrowful cries to the sky-

between the lines with regret running high.

Heart soaring, almost imploring, for altitude

to compress whats left- beyond recognition.
I wrote this picturing, a man holding a dead loved one on his knees. Hes the one that killed them but it was an accident. Its raining and he looking up at the sky and screams in anguish. His heart... well you can just imagine.  (sorry i **** at titles... you guys got any ideas?)
Kaliko May 2015
There is a saying being that- a single tear is worth a thousand words.
Now if only the water that has been dropped upon this page could just,
turn into letters, thus spelling out the reason behind them being shed.
Kaliko May 2015
The sound of dripping
was not of tears, but of her blood.
Thick scarlet drops, create a pool,
spreading to my quivering hands.
Kneeling, I stared in disbelief,
the lively face, now ashen.
Her glassy eyes seared into,
the very essence of my sanity.
Kaliko May 2015
If he has a face only a mother could love, then so be it and call me his mother. A name is but a name, and you can call me what you wish but, the essence of my love shall forever remain the same; as "a rose that is called by any other name would smell as sweet."
I quoted Juliet Capulet.

— The End —