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Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
His name is not important.
Neither is his face.
Only his heart,
And where it was misplaced.
I found it barely beating,
Somewhere near the gutter.
It had been kicked, trampled, and stepped on,
Obviously by his past lover.
So I simply held his close,
And easily gave him mine.

Then he did something he hadn't in a while.
Without him, his heart smiled.
It ignited a fire inside my me.
I wanted to curl up and hide.
Hide the happiness inside.
And past the monuments, and hills my pride shined.

With a slight slump and pulse.
I felt it beat.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
My head against his chest.
The slow rise and fall of it is my lullaby.
A hand placed lovingly on my head,
Combing through my hair.
I look up at him.
He looks down at me.
Flesh against flesh.
And even if my clothes weren’t
somewhere between the kitchen and the bathroom,
I would still feel completely naked.
His stare freezes me, then entombs me with fire.
It feels good to burn,
At least every once in a while.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I glare from behind these sunglasses.
They seem to be my only protection.
Heat is all around me,
But not just from a warm afternoon in July.
I finally see you and your deception.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I am losing my fight with insanity.
****, it would feel good to just give in.
Just to give in to the voices and thoughts.
But I’m a sore loser
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
I watch the notes dance across my eyelids.
At night it engulfs me pulling me into a different world.
A world called forever.
A world full of love and splendor.
My heart beat slows.
My brain stops.
Momentarily, I feel perfection and comfort within this peaceful solitude.
My eyes flash open and I am quickly ****** back into reality.
A place full of coldness, no warmth, no love.
But I escape every night, every night through music.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
Words dance across a blank page.
Words that create lines.
Lines that create stanzas
Attractive to the eye.
Seductive to he mind.
Alluring to the lips,
They pass so freely.
Taking their designated course.
Creeping through your pupils.
Traveling from the frontal,
Pulsating through the temporal,
Stopping at the occipital,
Dissolving slowly.
Until it becomes one with you.
The ink becomes apart of the grey matter.
It is one with you, you are on with it.
Kiara McNeil Jul 2011
To the bestfriend that loved me.

To the bestfriend from grade school.

To the bestfriend, remember when we car pooled?

To the bestfriend who thought my ***** were cancer.

To the bestfriend, no matter what call she would always answer.

To the bestfriend who lived two lives.

To the bestfriend looking for a boyfriend, and took mine.

To the bestfriend who I forgave so easily.

To my bestfriend, ******* for choosing him over me.

*******.
Graphic? I tend to say **** and **** a lot. :( MY life is graphic.
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