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does he hold your face
better than i did
because all i seem to recall is
you leaning towards my touch
like i was sunlight and
you were hungry leaves--
now that's even funnier
because you did leave didn't you?

was he good at understanding
the little actions
the nuances of a head tilt
or that picking your nails
meant that you were
dying of boredom--
{or bored of me}?

and lastly,
did he find that you loved
words and stories with a brilliant fire?
did he ignite a burning passion
in that literary lovin' heart?
because if so, i hope he's a *******
library and you've burned him
to a crisp.
i'm not angry but maybe i'm passive aggressive sometimes
And to this day
Not much has changed
I've grown a lot
But I'm still the same

From first breath
And first sight
I have these battles
I've had to fight

16 lifetimes
One more day
Bring back good memories
Bad to fade away

Once a year
On that same night
I will drown in fear
But strive with might
Birthday anxiety
Time starts clocking by,
Like an infinite life promised,
Slowly loosing grip on its reality.

I've counted down the days,
Some go faster then others.
I'll live for expectance,
To expect fate, or my destiny.

As it wipes away my tears,
Nothing will remain.
Is this all still natural,
Or have I gone insane?
Time is a virtue, life comes and goes by, you never know when your time might just come
You give me a heartbeat like no other
Only the heavens may speak of this love
Now you're gone, gone, gone away

My dreams are about you, your love
I long for you to be by my side at last
But now you're gone, gone away

I will be waiting here for you...
Based upon the song by vacatiomer
I don't know
why
I keep writing about you when
all the words from your mouth
forsake my existence
with an empty
"hi" or a shallow "how are you?".
...
 Nov 2014 Bluejay
Sillage
Confound
 Nov 2014 Bluejay
Sillage
In the stars that lay beneath your skin
I struggle defining the beauty of what's above

In the seabed that is buried within your bones
I drown in the surface of a touch

In the confusion that blazes in your heart
I swirl until ignited in the thought of you
He's concrete and
I'd love to be sidewalk chalk --
wash me away with rain,
but first let me lay a brief mark of my own
on all of his sidewalk cracks and all of his
broken pieces, the little slabs and pebbles that
weathered off from storms -- let me spill drawings there
with neon bright color
that are almost obscene in their hue.

Yes, I know it's temporary, we're temporary,
but maybe that's what makes it so
magnificent.
am i talking about hickeys or my mortality I still don't know
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