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 Feb 2012 Megan Anne
g
live with me.
 Feb 2012 Megan Anne
g
live with me
open the door to this round world
listen to the exhausted hinges creak to please your request
feel the comfort of the cool morning breeze on your skin
soak in the sun and bathe in its blinding rays
live with me
in a world that can be cruel but at the same time inundated with so much beauty
live with me
as  a warrior with the urge to keep a breath in your lungs long enough to see another sunrise
live with me
walk into the ocean with me under the greatest moon you ever saw.
let the soft waves press kisses on your back while i press them on your lips.
live with me.
lets be romantically driven rebellious teenagers again
lets get in the car and cruise around the glowing city
Blasting the music and repeating every lyric laced with a smile filled with so much ecstasy
lets park and play the sweetest love song while dancing in front of the headlights. you and i in the world alone.
live with me
live like i have your heart and you have mine and thats the way we were born
like every beat of our hearts is each others passion rushing to mend us as one.
live with me
on those cold winter nights when the wind howls
and its iced personality roses your nose but i cover you in eskimo kisses to bring you warmth
live with me
in those moments when you yell at me for those small things that don't mean much but really mean the world
live with me
when i get upset  with you for the unimportant things that i can never remember long enough to even remain upset.
live with me
take a moment to look around at other couples and realize the bliss that is to be in love
live within me.
 Feb 2012 Megan Anne
Marsha Singh
In the minutes before sleep last night,
through stellar static, astral snow,
a poem, half dreamt, was born
and died; I drifted off and let it go.

Just one line survived the night;
that line will have to be enough.
I wrote it down before it faded:
sometimes we were good at love.
 Feb 2012 Megan Anne
Marsha Singh
I only wanted to learn love; the unknown was unbearable.
Like a child plucking flimsy wings
from pretty little dying things,
I'm innocent, and terrible.
Will I ever be the one
who gets to hold you tight
Will I ever be the one
to hear your last goodnight
Will I ever be the one
who’s hand you gladly take
Will I ever be the one
next to whom you wake
Will I ever be the one
that holds you when you cry
Will I ever be the one
that never hears goodbye
Will I ever be the one
to whom you give yourself
Will I ever be the one
in sickness and in health
Will I ever know the reason
that our paths were meant to cross
Will I ever know the gain
that is someone else’s loss

Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
http://twitter.com/athomashawkins
 Dec 2011 Megan Anne
Quinn
is it wrong
that those
in love
make me
want to *****
lying on my back?
so that the
900 calorie
barbecue cheeseburger
that i ate for dinner
kills me in a manner
other than
clogging my
already corroded arteries

once you're alone
it seems as if
everyone is together
and it makes you
wonder, who
was writing
sick, twisted
poetry
about you and
your lover,
holding hands
and staring into
each others eyes,
as if irises
hold all of the
answers and
promises
to a beautiful
life
©erinquinn2011

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