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is how souls learn to ignite fire.
Eye contact can be the source of how souls catch fire. It'll either be in burning passion, or chard remains of an inevitable defeat.
 Feb 2020 kiara milko
Malia
Too Much
 Feb 2020 kiara milko
Malia
I’m splitting at the seams.
I’m drowning in reams and reams
Of papers that are due,
I’m breaking because of you too.

Everything is becoming too much
You tell me to quiet, to hush,
But I can’t because there’s too much to do,
I’m sorry, I cannot listen to you.
117
I’m microdosing
You’re lethal
You have no clue
 Feb 2020 kiara milko
Khoisan
Death isn't casting
not a staged performance
it has its own deadline
Inspired by a poet.

Mercy killings?
End of life?
Assisted suicide?
Death?
highly debatable no?
 Jan 2020 kiara milko
Jazz
(From Saturn's Moons Perspective)
My iridescent atmosphere is flooding in gravity
Gentle stripes of cloud flows in its abyss
I sit surrounding Saturn's entrancing  system  
blink my eyes and find  I’m a part of Saturn's  rings
 Jan 2020 kiara milko
Xan Abyss
She was only seventeen
In a town called Mexicali

Purple lipstick, hair dyed green
Wouldn't let her leave without me

And she liked things obscene
That I won't talk about here

But her **** you wouldn't believe,
So I had to keep her around...

My marijuana girl, my marijuana girl
Her eyes lit up
When I lit up
My marijuana girl
My marijuana girl, my marijuana girl
Smoky dreams
and tequila screams...


...My Marijuana Girl...

She was a wild thing indeed
Life carried by the wind

A little wink is all she needs
To drive a holy man to sin

My bloodshot eyes were hypnotized
My head started to spin

She can blow you up or calm your heart
Like nitroglycerine

My marijuana girl, my marijuana girl
Her eyes lit up
When I lit up
My marijuana girl
My marijuana girl, my marijuana girl
Smoky dreams
and tequila screams...


...My Marijuana Girl...

*Mi chica marijuana
My marijuana girl
Lyrics.
She had just finish smoking the ****,
Then she decided to write a poem about smoking the joint
Or was it before she wrote the poem, or after she smoke the ****
Was the poem triggered by the ****, or did the **** triggered a write?
Does it matter now, after she rolled the **** into written words and smoke her ideas.
  

Al Cash once wrote that
*My soul absorbs you, my mind inhales your essence, and you confirm my life.” *
She usually took an aspirin after a terrible headache
But thinking out loud now she should have taken the aspirin before the headache
Or before she smoke the ****, that lead to the write
That eventually brought about the poem, which causes a migraine
Now her body reacts to the Drunken Sailor Syndrome
So once again never swallow a spider to **** a fly: just purge.

Never write a poem while smoking the ****,
Poetry is life natural high, an untimely wave that never
Cease to amaze us.
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