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kaycog Sep 2017
maybe love is falling asleep thinking of the one that makes you happy and waking up to the rhythmic exhalation of their hot breath
on your nose

maybe love is waking up too early to watch their silent movements covered by the lull of unconsciousness in order to keep them with you

maybe love is watching you as you dream of them, but
maybe love is a tireless, sleepless being that never laid beside you, or

maybe love is lonely, an empty stone tomb
holding still a body once ablaze with passion

maybe love is gone, perhaps it never there
kaycog Aug 2017
ten shy of the century mark
ninety decades, four generations
four stages away from healthy
where did the first three go?
two months to fade
one moment to take, it takes forever
Hoping for three, God give me *one
kaycog Aug 2017
You were my anchor
my constant
steady in the tide
You kept me grounded,
or rather, in place
you weighed me down
unwavering
Me, a carefree fool
wondering why I could never leave
when I  wanted to sail the horizon
kaycog Jul 2017
summer was the epitome of misery when it comes
to my life's worth
but at least for what it's worth
I have all but just survived
and now with some twenty odd days
left to waste I wish them away with a reckless haste
of my fleeting youth
as I trade tiring hours for invisible dollars
to put a numerical value on my everlasting, never ending time
a price tag on my moments, never wasted on my name
save for when they read it off the tag displaced below my collar
kaycog Jul 2017
sleep is for the week
a fortnight is never strong
in fact its too weak
kaycog Jul 2017
She skipped this "necessary" life stage
apparently, character isn't necessary for the successful
In other words, I need it.
But frankly, the only character building
I dream of doing
is the one where the characters are my own
but where will that get me anyway?
(Why am I miserable
fighting to be half as successful
as she is, doing something that she loves?)
kaycog Jul 2017
my love's found in the moment
where there's sunscreen sprayed in the kitchen
sticking to the hard wood
of sprayed fumes in an empty house
where bodies abandoned
in favor of kayak boats
that may or may not float
once, no, twice patched now
confidently ****** from the ramp to the water
at a run down marina
chosen over the serenity
of the murky swamp solitude
but my love doesn't stay put
the creek, she follows
but turns where streams diverge
away love goes on course, off path, of course
love took off from the launch point, left me in her wake
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