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Kewayne Wadley Feb 2017
Each morning at work it starts.
That unquiet chatter that rattles the calmest of patience.
That one moment of clarity now gone.
The gathered thoughts gone astray.
Scattered about in every direction.
This loud obnoxious sound.
Echoing about , absorbing silence in a matter of minutes.
That one voice that for some reason or another.
Labeled as a menace, a void of emptiness that causes commotion just because.
A simple why only provokes this voice to carry on instead of grasping the hint that if you don't have anything to say, then it's best to keep quiet.
The thought of filling out a transfer just to get away grows more enticing day by day.
To gain a moments peace from the ramble of 8 hours a day.
The constant following and nagging.
The belly aching of a pebble, thrown front side up, falling, crashing into a pool of water.
Creating a constant ripple that spreads in every direction.
This was how he sent my thoughts in disarray each and every morning.
So much so, I began to fantasizing about duct tape
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2017
I wandered into you by mistake.
But for what it's worth.
The only thing legislation could do for me: Is make you a real city, state.
Only then could you truly see what I see everytime I look at you.
A unconditional love each block I walk.
I belong to you: each part of you, now apart of me.
Lost in the ever blinding light rising over the horizon.
Tall buildings sculpted with the light of your eyes.
Overcoming the dark.
Awaiting the coming of your smile.
Little by little as dawn inches closer
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2017
There sat a biscuit.
Watching everyone pass by as it sat behind the glass.
Baked fresh, it wondered whose life it would come into.
Spreading much delight.
A divine purpose.
Sat on a plate covered with other food.
Covered in syrup.
Meeting where reason becomes purpose.
If it had legs, it would walk outside and advertise it's warm goodness.
Covered in gravy, perhaps cheese.
The world we live in.
Fast food
Kewayne Wadley Feb 2017
She was like a banana.
The best part of her was on the inside.
The amount of insulin I'd need trying to devour her whole.
God knows how much I love the thought of that.
The effect she'd have on me.
Each time I'd see her I'd unravel her piece by piece until all of her shown like never before.
The only problem was I was allergic to bananas.
Although her smell was intoxicating.
One taste of her and my throat would instantly swell.
Though I wouldn't prefer anything artificial.
I wanted the real thing.
When I revealed all of this to her she just laughed.
She laughed her *** off as a matter of fact.
Rocking back and forth.
Her little brown shoes clicking together.
Her yellow skin now a bit red.
Her freckles now in full view.
When I asked why she laughed she said its quite alright.
Most people I've met speak so highly of themselves.
Your the first person to admit you correctly know how to open a banana.
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
There was something about her eyes.
Something comforting yet.
No matter how beautiful her lips could vocalize.
Nothing could compare to wandering the pupils of her eyes.
Those dark spheres that held so much in.
They'd expand then shrink
Almost as if they took a breath.
I don't know if it was anxiety,
The attempt of labeling this urge of wanting to ask so badly why they hung the way they did.
Knowing all of me but refusing to speak.
Those soft spoken eyes that looked like they could speak for hours.
I felt a tingling in my chest.
An explosion of sorts.
Scattering in every direction.
Something in me just wanted to blurt out what is it already.
Feeling this urge travel up my throat.
The brink of knowing you shouldn't but not wanting to listen to that inner voice that could jeopardize her comfort.
Wanting to know more about her,
Her lips compelled more to this connection.
The continuing of infatuation.
I slid my back against the side of her nose.
Easing my shoulder against the corner of her right eye.
I couldn't explain this comfort.
Allowing myself to be at ease with someone I barley knew.
But could totally relate.
Afraid to speak in fear of being totally misunderstood.
Things that might have taken place so far from where she stood, being in two places at one time.
I sought to understand.
Listening to a calm hush between us two.
Listening deeply for any indication, wondering if the feeling was mutual.
The conversation I longed to have with our backs now against the wall.
She'd politely stare.
Letting the sun polish her eyes a different shade.
Then out of the blue.
She turned to me and thanked me for understanding.
Knowing that not everything required an answer, not even words for that matter.
Continuing to sit beside her and share the comfort of ultimate silence.
Deep down I still wanted to blurt what was it about her eyes.
Those warm and inviting eyes.
Before I knew it I just started blabbing.
An instantaneous combustion of conversation happening out of nowhere.
My voice becoming hers. Revealing my curiosity.
How I've wandered around her eyes the moments I've sat next to her.
And before she knew it, they started talking.
Guiding me further into them
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
She's the thought that occurs in my mind.
The one that shows up without warning.
A gallon of gasoline, a handful of matches.
The spark that ignites there is brighter than anything
I've ever seen.
Setting fire to anything that isn't her.
I couldn't have saved myself If I tried.
Watching everything reduce to individual piles of rubble.
Shes recklessly chaotic.
Perfectly complexed in the way that she stands.
Striking the head of the match on the bottom of her heel.
There she stands watching everything burn.
Covering herself with my faults.
There she warms her heart by the fire.
Stoking the fire with old memories.
Slapping my hand each time I reach for one.
She's that one thought that asks me to hand her more matches.
Paying no never mind to if she's burned herself or not.
Dousing everything in gasoline that surrounds her.
Her reply to everything.
Revealing a devious grin, extending her hand for more matches.
Theres no doubt in my mind that she's a devil disguised in angel wings.
Roasting her halo over the fire,
Soon to press against me.
Branding me with her everlasting essence
Kewayne Wadley Jan 2017
She moved about as the sea
And I the shore she'd visit every so often.
Each grain moist with infatuation.
I wish she'd stay a bit longer.
Kissing above her eye.
A paradise unfolded between our every caress.
Filling the gaps of when I missed her most.
Splashing against the shore.
Finding endless bliss in the current of the wind.
Taking a piece of me whenever she'd leave
Until next time
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