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 Aug 2013 Lexi Cairns
glass can
He isn't going to come, isn't he?

He's drunk, with his friends.
Nonplussed about a girl who said she cared.
Said she was sad and who asked him to come.

He told me
He told me he was depressed. He asked to come in the first place.

He said he would.

I told him.
I told him I couldn't say yes or no to him seeing me, but I'd say yes if he came.
If he knocked on my door.

I don't need a knight, but I require someone with a heart. I thought that wasn't too much.

I told him later I was scared he wouldn't come.
It's been two hours. I don't think he's coming.

I'm so stupid.
I'm so stupid.
I'm so stupid.
I'm so stupid.


I thought he was coming.
 Aug 2013 Lexi Cairns
brooke
Nm.
 Aug 2013 Lexi Cairns
brooke
Nm.
I still
look at the
moon and wonder
if you are looking
too
(c) Brooke Otto
Don't shake you say.
Relax.
Breathe.
Calm down.
I'm here.


My body trembles in your arms.
My breath shallow, labored.
My eyes wide with fear.
My mind consumed in agony.
Welcome the anxiety.


I'm claimed by a monster
It's claws (sharp enough to **** my hope)
Tear at my heart.
It's eyes (reflections of darkest nightmares)
Show me the worst.
It's words (harsh, terrifying, destructive)
Scare me.
It's presence (the air turns dark, no way out)
Reduce me to a sobbing pile of fear.


let me go
please let me go
i'm trapped in my mind
**let me out
 Aug 2013 Lexi Cairns
Fred Kinard
Starvation.

First and foremost
The plot thickens and the atmosphere is beyond any thunderstorm.
The forecast was predicted before the growling began.
Bellies ****** in not by choice.
Now misconduct fills the void .
         I'm starving
         He's starving
         She's starving
The people are ready to run a mock    
Have you ever witness ***** in a bucket, they fight relentlessly to get out until they tire.
Have you ever witness a person eating mud patties to ease the hunger pains, I'm talking about the real hunger games.

Shortcomings is starvation
Starvation of:
Attention
Food
Education
Clothing
Electronics
Transportation
***
Hugs
Love
Fathers
Mothers
Family
Yet, politicians act like they don't know what I am talking about .
And beanstalk will never grow if beans were handed out.
Give the people jobs that match America's cost of living.
I can hear bankers & corporation whispering blasphemy .
What does it really mean to live among the living when you are the walking dead......
We want flesh.
standing against the wind
shading people                  
creating air for the world  
growing leaves                  
small green sprouts          
blooming flowers              
dropping seeds                  
roots extended into the ground                  
as my leaves slowly change                  
to colours of red, orange                  
yellow, brown                  
to loose my luxurious leaves
as they dance
and fall around my trunk
swirling in the wind
until i'm bare
and i have time to            
sleep during winter            
waiting to blossom
and my leaves to grow
once again                      
and i can shade people
Made the bed backwards

Just to hear your laugh,
I'm in the shower pretending not to hear,
Your return, your reaction,
But my grin stretching to the bedroom.

Afterglow, After-all,
All of us need a new perspective,
From time to this time.

But our life straightforward.
Got my eyeballs ******* to the
Solid white line
That we drive along side, behind,
Safe and sound.

Even when I park my poetry illegally,
Even when the pillows face an empty white wall,
We lie beside each other,
Straight on.

Where do I get these crazy ideas?

Remember when you picked me up on the internet when
You knew me by my anonymous moniker,
Still Crazy After All These Years?

Never changed, never will cause

I be who I be...

Stop that kissing, feed me, please!


10:21am
August 24th 2013
Postscript: came home,  I came out of the shower, we chatted, casually remarked, I made the bed,, she replied, yes I know, then she  looked and then hee haw hee haw hee haw nonstop 3 minutes.
The Art of Bed Making

Write they say, about what you know best,
Surely in the diurnal motions,
The arc of daily commotion,
Do we not all excel?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First lets establish the fact
That
I hate making beds just as much as any man.
As chores go, it is the bottom of the
Totem Pole.

But having, unasked, once done the deed,
To surprise. And. To.  Please.
(What fools men are...)
The pleasure seen upon her face,
For my pillow^ skills and arrangements,
simply extraordinaire,
I have been incredibly guilted,
Without the opposing party saying but two words
(Oh my)
into
doing my share.

With pride of craft,
Then herein I reveal the methodology
For its art, it's poetry,
Line and stanza, meter and rhyme,
The Art of Bed Making,
If properly conducted.

First remove all signs of history,
Single socks, and itinerant underwear,
If you get queasy, get the hell out of here,
It takes a real man to make a quality bed.

With hands two, brush all and any crumbs
Onto the floor
Where they belong
And for which cleaning up ain't my job.

Then straighten the sheets,
After checking for fond memories,
i.e. wet spots, stains of glory, some old n' hoary,
And using the natometer,
Ascertain if they can make it one more day.
(Strange how they almost always can!)

Next, the coverlet.
Different schools of thought have discoursed,
Whether t'is best from the bottom or the top
To commence.

Me, I am, a top man,
As in most things,
I like to work my way down,
Nice and slow.

Extend one arm fully,
With broad, gracious strokes,
De-wrinkle the top,
Sending the waves and bumps over the side,
To their special hell.

This step most crucial,
For if the prior steps done in manner superficial,
This will mask you "inner" laziness well.

Pillows.

First sniff.
Determine which is yours, and which is hers, then
Render unto Caesar
The right pillow or accept the consequences dire.

Trust me,
She says she loves
Your manly odors,
But give her the wrong pillow,
And you may be a victim of a Pearl Harbor
Sneaky Pillow Attack...

Just as you are falling asleep.
And you are at your most defenseless...
"Hers" yanked from under your head.

If your woman is genuine,
She can't have enough decorative touches,
Like 6 or 8 pillows in a la carte shapes,
Which must be presented,
Ach Zo!

But here I rebel, my artistic manly resistances
Flare,
Makes me find new combos,
To which she says, delightedly,
Oh my!

Many details I have skipped,
For your safety's sake,
For if you master bed making,
Do not be surprised,
If many wet spots and stains will follow,
Making fresh sheets,
A daily necessity.

****.

August 10th 2013
 Aug 2013 Lexi Cairns
j
sweater
 Aug 2013 Lexi Cairns
j
all that's left of you and I
is the worn out sweater that you left behind
and when I miss you
I throw it over my fragile bones
pretend its you

wrap it round and round and round my body
                          it's huge on me, you know
                          I haven't been eating so much since you've been gone
lonliness           (or maybe insanity)
has driven me to the point
of missing someone
I never even knew
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