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l am the familiar unfamiliar.
I am a house of bones working as your cage of sorrow.
I am the three o’clock suicide hotline call your mom doesn’t know about.
I am your shallow breathing.
On a clear, cold night I am the emerald flash
Of the dying sun on the ocean.
Blink, and I’ll be gone.
I am the lukewarm coffee you force yourself to finish at the cafe.
Bitter, cold, and disappointing,
But you can’t stop drinking.
You once told me that coffee was the only thing keeping you alive,
So I pulled the plug on the machine.
I am the regret you throw up from your weekend binging routines,
Spilling from your mouth and falling off your lips like lava.
You could never keep me down.
I am Van Gogh, cutting my own ear off
In attempts to get your love.
I didn’t realize that giving it to you meant throwing a piece of myself away.
I am the earthquake that shattered the foundation of Los Angeles
just because I could.
After all, you always said you liked disaster.
On the nights that you actually manage to sleep, I am the spider
That crawls into your mouth.
It’s always been my favorite place to go.
I will love you like a mother loves her unborn child,
Cherishing the sight of blood just because it reminds me of you.
I am the two things you hate the most,
Paper cuts and taxes.
I am the two things you love the most,
Smoking and forgetting.
When you go to light your lucky, I am the kiss
Between the flame and the paper:
Something you only want to do once.
But you don’t have a smokers cough for no reason.
I am the desire in a baby’s grip to hold his mothers hand.
But, I am the mother who never cared.
I am not the tropical showers everyone wishes for,
But the devastating monsoons.
I am the reason storms are named after people.
When the winds are howling and your fingers are blistered with frostbite,
You can count on me to not be there.
Your mother always warned you to wear a seatbelt,
For fear of a collision.
I am the windshield your head crashes through when you don’t listen,
Carving the word
“Guilt”
Into your scalp.
I only wanted to see how your brain worked
When you weren’t thinking of me.
I am the look on your best friends face when he catches you
Sleeping with his girlfriend.
I am the teeth you lose from the punch;
Hide me under a pillow and I’ll disappear.
I am your ravenous drug habit,
Breathe me in enough and I’ll give you a high
You could have never imagined.
I am addiction.
I am withdrawal.
I am the lies of God and the hope for redemption
At your AA meetings.
Talk me up enough and I’ll be truer than your fathers gambling habit.
I am the tears that fall from your grandfathers eyes
When you tell him about the last time you tried to **** yourself.
After all, it was just yesterday.
I am the stones you placed in your pockets
And the icy river you plunged yourself into.

I am not the stranger who saved you.


I will never be the one to save you.
I want to be the bed covers
You wake to
That your restless limbs
Have smothered
That your emanating body
The fabric
You have tossed-and-turned in
8 hours hence
Imprinted with your scent

And the mouthwash
You gargle
To swoosh-and-splash
Along your tongue
To be in you
Like a liquid ache
Sloshing
Waking


I want to be the fork
You pick your eggs with
My metallic spine
In your slight fingers
Your demure  hands
Scarred sustenance
Yolk sun

I want to be the comb
Tangled in your frizzy hair
Your wavy hair of smoke
And shadowed lakes
As soft as lint
Cascading

I want to be the cig
You light on the corner
To warm the brick morning
I want to hang on your quivering lips
Like an autumn leaf from a branch
I want you to inhale me
And let your body loose
Feel me utterly
Then exhale...

Let me evaporate
Into the nothingness
I was before

You
Footnotes: An aubade is a morning love song (as opposed to a serenade, which is in the evening), or a song or poem about lovers separating at dawn.[1] It has also been defined as "a song or instrumental composition concerning, accompanying, or evoking daybreak".[2] - WIKI

It's generally a lament about the morning since dawn means the end of the night, the broken spell for the lovers. Romeo and Juliet perhaps exhibits the most famous "aubade".

However, I decided to write about the morning after.
A story lies
  within theses eyes.
a story unheard,
  completely absurd.

A truth untold
  is about to unfold.
a truth contains no lies
  but oh so many ties.

A path forgotten  
  grows rotten.
a path will cost
  all will be lost.

A heart not taught  
  is left distraught.
a heart grown cold
  will lose its hold.

A soul unprotected
   can be subjected.
a soul left bone dry
  will surly die.  

        ~K.D.
Lost
Where am I in this alley?
Whose dark and rough walls give the sky
A daunting blue?

The maze I’m in
Whose walls are dense
Are not denser than the cement in my head
Constantly pulling me down
Kneeling
Searching through the alleys
Blindly
To find the exit…
A exit
But where?

My hands touching the grainy ground
Made them appear like the talons of a vulture
Use to attack an invisible force I am not able to overcome

The only thing that can resist
Is the multitude tears which gently landed on the floor and splattered

Fast it went and formed one single line
Towards the exit

I collapse trying to grasp the stream of tears

My head streaming in and out of consciousness
I wonder
Who will reach the exist first?
Perhaps you think not what you did
Nor of bad or good
Not of the shells that hit the ground
Nor the stands we stood

Perhaps you think not of the hearts
The ones that loved a marriage
Nor of the ones that didn't fit
Like a horse without it's carriage

Perhaps you think of blood lust people
As your killing henchman
Or maybe of the ones that died
Helping in the trenches

Perhaps you think is what we ask
Day in, day out, all day
Perhaps you think not what you did
Nor the price we paid
war is terrible
 Feb 2015 Kelsey Nicole
flustered
isolating yourself
wont make you
any

less

lonely
if you yearn for company, why do you push everyone away?

— The End —