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Kyle John Somer Oct 2012
Our fingertips are getting so cold in the places we call home.
Putting themselves to sleep with braille goose bump bed time stories.
As our bone marrow weathermen  predict another liquid nitrogen winter.

Lately we have been falling apart like glacial walls.
Our chips off the old block selves falling short
Sinking deeper with all this new pressure and all the cold.
The last of our oxygen seeping through the cracks of our lungs as our time on the bottom runs out.
As our face in the gutter hourglass runs low.
Until we forget why were looking up.
The air bubbles are slipping through our lips like rubber balloon landmines that we've blown our hopes into.
And the places we house those dreams are beginning cut loose the strings that we have been holding onto
The childhood fantasies that are better let go.
Mostly our views of perfection an
d of affection that we should no longer be grasping.
Until we are almost bursting and all that fills our minds are the thoughts of red iron razors
The ones we grow when we think of our wrists.

And I am hoping that they can drag their metallic fingers through the flesh of those message in bottle balloons til they burst
so we can cut out the silence we have been thinking so long and fill it with some ****** inspiration

But the nights are still getting darker with tongues of shadow frostbite
and ever since our nomadic tendencies saw our survival expectancies
we have been moving around in our own skin with foster kid frequencies
wearing our heart sleeves rolled up because we don't want to get hurt again.

We are sensitive to light and you are diamonds and that scares us.

because even sunlight has a history of dripping agony
and the chances are high that we end up dancing with bad luck when the sky falls.
Stepping on cracks and filling shoes with puddles.

There's a cold war going on in our hearts
and were scared of the deja vu fallout of another nuclear winter
and you like to tango with destrucion
so we duck and cover behind the bright side of the sun
we live in shadows to protect our eyes from unclear reactions
Seeking shelter in empty alleyways
Under Gothic styled rib cages

And in the hollow places that we locked away our heart
We thew away the keys.

We have the same sickness as Icarus and we are burning up like a candle in the core of the earth.
Because we already have swallowed so much blue sky salt water
We have downed glasses and glasses of your unpredictability
and its been flowing counterclockwise down our throats
stinging like back stabbed golden friendships
like out cast creation
like the heartbroken rejection that had so much promise that we believed in it
and put our hearts into it
and then were broken
and burnt
like Alexander libraries and tornado explosions

Its been so lonely being safe.
Its been so cold.
So if you ask me how many heart beats I skipped for you
Ill tell you millions
Ill tell you life times
Ill tell you that I have missed you symphonies and that you should come home.

I've carved a place in my lock for your key.
I've looked up at the stars with wide eye telescope desire
and I want to dance with you and your big dipper hands.
I've worn chameleon skin for far to long and loved you under my breath even longer.

Your brilliance scares me but please let me join you.
I am sick of hiding behind shutters and stutters and dark water.
I am sick of thinking of razors and space and being alone.

We could blind the world together
You and I
Two happy people burnt into the memories of the universe.
Kyle John Somer Oct 2012
Darlin’, they say you’ve got knives swimming through your heart beats.
That the blood flowing from your pin pricked fingertips to your mumbled fear lips
is dressed up angry, in bayonet holding coats of arms.
That your tiger tooth saber shaped blood is dragging its hands down your veins
slowly scratching in dates down walls of young membrane tombstones
shooting firing squad lines of pain as your body tears itself apart.
They’re saying that its only going to get worse from here.
With your pinstriped POW nerves vibrating like skyscrapers
as each pulse bleeds through you like a ten on the richter.

Darlin’  I’m dying to see you smile, but the washington rain is drowning you
and you're losing time for existing.
Shivering in that hospital bed as icicle cells freeze you to the bone.
You used to light up a room with all your bright sunflower laughter
but now your hands are cold like sad glaciers
pushing your shoulderblades under icy water
and all that seems to come out of your lips
are hospital bed nightmares and fluorescent smoke wishes.
Every morning your black coffee eyes brew up tears
they rain for hours.
but crying isn't dowsing this wildfire.
You’re trying to stay on your feet, but your ankle deep in gasoline.
Your breath is like a pendulum time keeper.
The white blood cell count like a stop watch for the grim reaper.
And you watch, eyes stinging, as you burn up from the inside out.
Temperature climbing mountains. Breaking ozones.
But they say you're on the decline.

Darlin’ I know they say you have bad blood.
They say that your heart won't gone on beating for a long time
and at night you cough up blood on your pillow creating a universe of helio constellations
but they don't know how hard you try.
I know right now london feels like its falling
Everything does.
Its ashes and ashes.
But like a pilot light supernova things can change.
Lets grab up fistfulls and fistfulls of ash in our shaking hands
and put them together
and let the weight of the world turn them to diamonds
and we can push them inside our nimble rib cages
and live a little bit longer

Darlin'

Can you hear me?















They asked me to speak at your funeral.
I talked about our weekend in the mountains
and how your laugh would bounce off the canyons in such beautiful frequencies.
I talked about how I met you
how my heart wouldn't stop feeling like avalanche symphonies.
And how you turned scarlet when I asked you your name.
I talked about your family, our friends,
how we would look at the stars for hours without letting our eyes breathe
because you thought the world of space.
I talked about your yellow rain boots and how you would always track the wilderness inside with you.
I talked about your fear of trains and thunderclaps and how in rainstorms you would curl up next to me and shake like an earthquake but you knew your were safe.

I talked about how much I loved you.
It started raining, I started breaking down.
And I talked about how hard you tried.

Darlin' they said you had bad blood.
That if we would have caught it sooner we could have saved you.

Darlin' I wish we had had more time.
I could have written you so many love letters.
Darlin' I wish we had had more time.





Death stole you away.

And signed your fate with a sickle cell pen of red ink.

— The End —