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My heart will not be denied
Soul, body, and mind
I will not be confined
I'll reach for the sky
This, I will live by

Even after I die
I will be immortal
My words have no goodbyes


**-Joseph B Schneider
© Joseph B Schneider. All rights reserved
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
YOU LEFT YOUR FINGERPRINTS ALL OVER ME
LITTLE REMINDERS OF EVERYWHERE
I NEVER DARED TO GO WITH ANYONE BUT YOU
 Jan 2015 Natalie Sasscer
Axiana
Unbelievable
Catastrophically beautiful
I reflect the many unusual
Aspects of numerous physical
Understandings of the usual
Misdiagnosis, I am the typical
One of a kind, somewhat mythical
Kind of creature, more suitable
For a reality that is musical
Oh, but you will see the perpetual
Cues that put you in a visual
Hologram of a disputable
Nature - it is unlike any future
Disputable, delusional, junior
Planet I have ever seen
And so I will lie here and dream
Of stars I will one day orbit, these
Desires to become, to just be
Without misplaced agony
Teaching lessons I suppose I need
But that is not all that is me
I will remember it is only
Moments like these
That will become forgotten,
Fleeting memories
I'M TRYING TO BE ART
BUT MY CANVAS IS WHITE
AND THIS PAINT IS WHITE
AND I KEEP PAINTING
BUT EACH STROKE
LEAVES ME FEELING
MORE B L A N K.

(NJ2014) (All Rights Reserved)
Have you ever held your breath,
Just to know what drowning feels like?
They told me that you can't
reach out and touch death,
but death has ghosted his hands
across my fragile skin.
Life is a delicate thing
and it can so easily be lost.
His cold hands on my cheek,
his frosty breath down my neck,
Death is watching.

— The End —