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 Oct 2014 Mary Generic
Adam Mott
I am the creature with one hundred eyes
Colorful yet blind
Hungry and trite
Pulling quotes from outside
I am rising to the tides
Listening to music from those who long ago died

I am
Tongue tied
Pulling verses from deep inside
Covering my inhibitions
Those which urged my insight
I am ready to go out with the tide
That final lustrous tide
With which,
I bid thee goodbye
Stressin or blessin
Tags have nothing to do with content
No new messages.

I don’t know where you are on the other side of the screen. But I want to know. Badly.

No new messages.

I’m not sure what I’ve become, in these seconds, of being patient.

No new messages.

My soul only wants one thing, I realize: You. Your attention. Your sympathy. Your words to make me feel better.

No new messages.

I’m going crazy now. I want you, your touch through words. I want to know that you’re listening to my thoughts. That you’re here for me.

No new message.

My patience is running out, my love for you is too. Staring at a screen, wanting something only you can give.

What has my life become? I am nothing. Saving time for you to talk to me, when I should concentrate on what’s important.

No new messages.

My life is useless. I am looking for the wrong goal. But I keep staring, hoping you’d somehow send me a message, telling me it’s ok.

No new messages.

I’m tired. I’m sorry. I can’t stop being the crazy girl I am. But I’m in love, that’s all I can say.

No new messages.

I get it, you’re not online. Fine. I’ve stopped caring. What’s the point? Forget you. I hate you. I wish we’d never met.

No new messages.

Yes, I’m still here. Can’t you see? It’s been hours, I’ve been staring at this screen since you said you’d be here. I’m not ready to give up. Are you there, somehow?

No new messages.

I’ve tried, but it’s getting late. I’m sorry. Even though I know you’re not here. Please know that I still care.

I type in a new message and then sign out.

I Love You.
Never Forget It.
 Aug 2014 Mary Generic
Unknown
How I wish to float upon your breast
Soft and placid as a glass lake, windless
Breathless

But to delve into valleys
Unexplored, keeper of buried treasures
I trek throughout, wandering

Aimless deliverance, unspoken promises
Intricacy of intimate embrace
I weave in my fingers, passion

Spill me, leave kisses like ghosts
Translucent memories
Moist with seduction

Delicious droplets of enticement
Proposing infatuation, falling from your lips
Illustrious little allures

Swim through me
Serpentine twisting contours
Wrap me in flesh, consumption

Stares, to reiterate a longing
Convey this truthfulness
Honeyed words of desire

Think not to deny yourself this moment
Make love to white whispers
Embedded in the mouth of temptation

Take no responsibility
Let movement be freely expressed
Body caressed

Comforting red embers
Of lustful flame
Spin tales of time and tryst

Inhale the sweeter aromas
Entwine with immaculacy
Reciprocate sensuality, a pair

Two
Two with a twist
And many other turns
For my love
The comic convention
has cardboard cutouts of
all of the main characters of
Harry Potter.

Harry,
Ron,
Hermione,
etc.
All motionless in a river of people,
glossy but worn down,
bathed in cold white halogen.

And one by one,
the cosplayers—
the Harrys
Rons
Hermiones,
etc.

Have their pictures taken
with the cutouts,
one cardboard cutout cut out
and replaced with a real human being.

Being human, we
crave companionship,
fear solitude,
crave solitude,
fear companionship.

We try to avoid becoming cardboard
cutouts of ourselves, but sometimes
a retreat into inanimacy
is what the animus needs.

The cosplayers continue to shuffle forward in line
each waiting to pose for a selfie.  Each
politely smiling at the living Harry Potter characters around them,

but not striking up a conversation.

— The End —