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Lying on the beach,
it's getting darker each time you blink.
Hear the colorful explosions up high,
the sky is in chaos, don't you think?

Forget what I told you,
leave those words to the tide.
The stars are peaking through,
my ignorance is wild and wide.

A handful of white rocks,
you smile like a maniac.
Breathing out hoaxes,
while I play piano on your back.

The fireworks stopped,
you gave me black rocks.
My blanket was made for two,
yet another startling paradox.
This is absolutely crazy. I can't believe my poem was chosen as a daily. Especially not when I know there are so many other, way more talented, poets on this site who deserve it way more than I do. But I thank you all of you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading, liking and the nice comments you leave. It means the absolute world to me! :) <3
 Mar 2017 Kathryn Maurine
Kq
I write to you
Because my brain is not withering

It is growing,
Grooving pits out of neurons
And overtaking blooming

When you take your physical
Out of the sun, you think, I am safe now
Hours later you are bubbling, red, thirsty

I took off
Tied a string from my pinky to your mailbox
It is something people do

I am sitting, looking at an orchid
Seeing the walls of your home, your mouths
My innards that I thought were excavated

I am having difficulty finding comfort
I am having difficulty seeing beauty
I am having difficulty

I think you put it here
In the house, or me, or the string
I drag it

I want you to take it back
Box it up
Swallow it

Hand me back sorry
Hand me back history-less handbook
Give me a hand altering this

Write me back, please
Tell me I was mistaken
 Mar 2017 Kathryn Maurine
ryn
Death
 Mar 2017 Kathryn Maurine
ryn
These eyes search
but I only see the insides of my lids.

These words I muster
do not make it past the sanctity of my chapped lips.

These ears hear the cries and celebration of the world I once knew
but yet... I do not.

This skin fray at its edges but still envelop
this strange familiar plane... And I struggle to find my bearing.

So I indulge...
In this little serving of death.

— The End —