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 Jan 2015 Kristina
Danielle Shorr
Sometimes I wonder if
I would actually love you if
You actually loved me
 Jan 2015 Kristina
Danielle Shorr
I can't believe I ever wanted you
I can't believe I ever needed you
I can't believe I ever cared for you
I can't believe I ever loved you
I can't believe I still do.
 Jan 2015 Kristina
Danielle Shorr
I'll be honest
I'm not exactly sure how to write myself pretty
I don't think I'm capable of making desire out of words
Or forming the way I sound into something you would want to fall asleep to
I cannot mold my body into a figure that you would want next to yours for more than one night
I have more passion in myself than I know what to do with
I often give it out as hope for people to take in their hands, find something good in all of my chaos
Everyone always advises not to fall face first in love
Forgetting that the those who fall by accident
Often land the hardest
Hitting the ground full force
Cheek against the pavement
I was built with 206 bones in my body
And I will break all of them from my mistakes
Before I dare to stop falling
The crash is worth the high
Ask me every time when I am still hung over from yesterday
And I will always say yes
Having regrets has always seemed better
Than having nothing at all
I was born with steel layed out upon my chest
All of these attempts at language
Are done with the intention
Of removing some weight off of it
I have been made heavy by my own silence on too many occasions
At times I have been told not to speak
That my lips should be kept shut for protection
There are bolts on my jaw
My tongue is sandpaper
And I will risk grinding my teeth for the possibility of igniting a flame
Inside someone who has spent years trying to find a lit match
Let me be the thing that starts a fire
Rhyming doesn't always incite romance
But I can try my best
See the problem is that there are so many ways to say I love you
But not enough to make them love you
The problem is having a million things to say
And a million ways to say them
But not knowing the right way how to
There is no right or wrong here
Only hold back or release
So stutter instead of staying quiet
It is much more beautiful on paper
To disregard format, or style
And structure
I will mess up
As best as I can
And in the morning
Look at it again
Remember how it felt
To live
Then reread,
Review,
And edit.
 Nov 2014 Kristina
Danielle Shorr
You make me want to
Set fire to everything
More specifically anything
That has to do with you

You make me want to
Tear off every piece of my skin
And pull out all of my hair
Just to strangle you with it

Okay
Maybe that is
A little bit
Dramatic

But you drive me
Absolutely insane

You are a bus
That I would willingly
Throw myself in front of
Just to get your attention
Although you would most likely
Keep going
Without stopping

You are so skilled
At pretending not to notice me
Talented enough
To paint my skin invisible
The way you look right past me
Is truly an art form

I am well aware
That I am not the only girl
Who plays marionette
To your puppet master hands
But I am the only one
Who is content
With having them around
My neck

You make me want to
Sharpie all of your faults
On to your forehead
For the whole world to see

You make me want to
Stand on top of a cliff
And proclaim every single thing
That is wrong with you
For the whole world to hear

Calling you terrible,
Awful,
And cruel
Is easy

But if you were to call me
At 2 am
I would probably still give in

I would drop everything
Just to see you
For a moment

I would sacrifice my pride,
My dignity
Just to spend a night
With your body

You make me want to
Do a lot of things to you
In more ways than one

And that is exactly
What the problem is

I don't hate you
But you make me want to
You make me wish I did.
 Nov 2014 Kristina
Danielle Shorr
I ask when you are coming back
I ask when you are coming home
After being miles apart for months
I am starting to miss you

You tell me Wednesday
I tell you
That is when I leave
And disappointment washes over my tongue
Knowing that it will be months more
Before I get to see you again

I offer to fly you out to see me
For a week or so in December
You could stay at my place and everything
I tell you it will be fun
You answer honestly
That it might be conflicting
You mention your music
That you will be working on it
And you just don't know
If there will be enough time
To sacrifice any of it for a break
You always put guitar and melodies
Before me
And I always resented you for it

I propose dinner in the future
You agree but hesitantly
Said the last time we were together
It was too much
An emotional limbo
That you never want to go through again
I ask if it can happen
You say okay but with strings
That I cannot kiss you
That I cannot touch you the way I used to
That the kind of touching I do
Should be reserved for couples
For those who are in love
And we are not

I want to tell you
That I have loved you for three years straight
And I have never stopped once
I want to say
That people will come in and out of my life
But you are permanently in my head
And my heart

We could go
Days
Weeks
Months
Without talking
And I will still hold you in the back of my mind
Keeping a place set for you always

I do not realize this
And how true it is
Until someone asks me if I wonder what my future husband will look like
And without a pause
I tell them I already know

It sounds terribly naïve
Maybe also crazy
But I have a spot in myself reserved for you
Somewhere for you to come back to

Even if it takes years for you to claim
Even if you never do
I have it kept aside
In case you ever decide
That it's where you need to be

I asked when you were coming home
As if the city we grew up in
Could still be called our home
When in reality home is much farther than an arms reach
I am on the other side of the country

I asked when you were coming home
I asked because
I am not really sure
Where home is right now for me
But you have always been
And will always be
The closest thing to it

You are a house
I could spend the rest of my life in
I know every square inch
Every detail that most would be unable to notice
Your arms are home
Your touch is home
You are home
And I am home
With you.
 Nov 2014 Kristina
Just Melz
When a poet doesn't know the answer
To the simplest questions
It's because their mind is so filled
With abnormal poetic revisions

When a poet doesn't know
The way to say how they feel
It's because they need to write it out
So they know the feelings are real

When a poet doesn't know
How to say I love you
It's because they haven't found a rhyme
That brings out the best in you

When a poet doesn't know what to say
Or simply how to make you feel better
They just type up some lines and rhymes
Like... "We'll get through this together"

When a poets doesn't know the answer
Or how to say what they feel
Or that they're in love with you
Or how to make you feel better still

And they don't have the words to write it all down....
That poet's world is sure to crumble to the ground
As a known poet among friends, they find it odd that I don't always have the right words to express myself in normal conversations sometimes. Maybe this will shed some light on that.
 Nov 2014 Kristina
Frisk
without hesitation, i asked everyone
in the room a lighthearted question.
"you know who my best friend is?"
in the same breath, you spit out
"me." what surprised me the most
was that you didn't even think about
the question. it came naturally to you,
like how most things come. at that
moment, my spirit left my body all
in the matter of the seconds between
your reply and my initial reaction.
my soul traveled to the times we were happy,
telling each other secrets and keeping those
promises that we swore under oath. the
dreams we had about each other would
always be good dreams, not nightmares.
as much as i'd like to admit that there is
still something there, that i will be able to
call you my sister & my best friend again,
i had to be honest. i was never honest
to you and that's how i lost you. there
was nothing i could do to take back the
"no" that rolled off my tongue like an
avalanche or a confession to a holy
priest and between me and god, you
are the closest i've gotten to god. the
back burner you left me on has left
third degree burns but isn't dying a
martyr to you the best way to go?
or would you be the one to turn the
other way if i challenged death?

- kra
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