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 Jun 2016 Laura Gee
Sal Gelles
poison coursing through my veins,
parting ways in my brain,
separating me from my own mind,
i flock to what’s left and she waits.

i can’t remember where she slipped in,
more so when she slid out,
and how it got to the point now
where my drink is flooding me
with anticipation.

some knowing, unknown in its right,
the idea wasn’t here just a night ago,
but now it won’t leave,
it waits, just as she does.

and once this moves into motion,
the ground will tremble.
with such force, such intensity,
and i will show her the way,
what i mean, how i pursue it myself,
as she does, as we had,
and now cannot.

i’ll show her the dead tissue,
hanging from my shoulders,
how i have to lug it around
and one day, will unload.
 Jun 2016 Laura Gee
littlebrush
[prose poem]

          I never noticed how mine these hands are. There, glossy, rinsed clean. Do I want to move my fingers? They will. All of them, they will.
Underneath the water's gloss I see the lines; some ragged and some fine, some smaller and some smaller than the small.
          Though I am no author of what I own, I can see how precious is His gift– and it's been here all this time.
I don't need too look too far. Even for clothes or something to dine. Though I am content with those, I've had, here,
          these hands of mine.
As I washed my hands I felt the strangest joy in the fact that I could control them. Yep. Strange. But then I thought of how grateful I must be, even for having hands– something we take for granted. And as I looked at all the lines that made it up (I mean, c'mon, just stare at all the little lines on your palm for a while), I thought they looked beautiful. So I thank God for weaving every bit of me, so perfectly.
 Jun 2016 Laura Gee
PrttyBrd
Both in love with
And drowning in
Words

They are freedom
Salvation
And the most advance weaponry

Words are powerful
Able to heal old wounds
And rend flesh from the heart

Each a line a thread
Or a tear
In the fabric of life

Able to inflict
Mortal wounds
With one lash

Able to imbue
Peace
In a tone

Unlimited hues
Of unlimited descriptions
Words paint the best pictures

Both in love with
And drowning in
Words
6216
 Jun 2016 Laura Gee
AM
Heaven
 Jun 2016 Laura Gee
AM
for some people heaven is
a world without war
or a home and a family
or maybe a vanilla ice cream
but I have my concept of heaven;
it is you—laughing, smiling, breathing
—because of me
 Jun 2016 Laura Gee
NV
baggage
 Jun 2016 Laura Gee
NV
and i have never really understood why i hate luggage.
why i barely own handbags,
and would much rather fit the necessities in my purse.
why school didn't seem so bad if i had less books on my back.

i had never really understood why i hated so much baggage.

until i realised that it was because i already had all of me,
to carry.
every 1:27am
I come to my garage
and I sit with wine
and converse with
an out-of-place nightstand,
june bugs aimlessly run into
stacked boxes and
heartbroken drywall wink
at my knuckles,
only tangibility could express the
scattered personality of this garage
but somehow I feel at home,
unplugged freezers,
shop brooms drenched in sawdust,
broken hockey sticks,
half stained 2x4’s
clout my memories with
wanting to be young again,
shooting pucks with dad,
having laughs roll
off my tongue again,
sweeping grass off
the driveway, and watching
my sister fail at riding a bike,
now she’s going to university
and I’m sweeping up
cigarette butts in this garage,
I still see the skateboard
I broke my wrist on and I
have to work in the morning,
at 1:53 I’m rolling up news papers
and hitting curve balled
june bugs and I have
to cut this short cause
my girlfriend called and she needs
a ride home from the bar //


3:17
Literally a randomized run through of an average night.

**THIS POEM IS NOTHING SPECIAL**
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