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 Mar 2011 Megan Kirby
Liz W
I just wanted a couple hits off your cigarette

Didn’t know what I’d end up with next

Definitely didn’t bank on loving you

Or undoing all I thought was true

I only wanted one night of pleasure

I never intended to surrender

Never knew where this would take me

Or how I’d feel when my heart was breaking

I just wanted a moment of your affection

Instead it brought me misdirection

A fleeting glimpse of happiness

Something that would not last
 Mar 2011 Megan Kirby
Overwhelmed
“to love someone
at their ugliest moment
is perhaps the only way
to know you’re crazy.”

“or in love.”
 Mar 2011 Megan Kirby
Overwhelmed
why can’t love
be like the
movies?

a girl likes a guy
or
a guy likes a girl

the other doesn’t know yet
but he or she comes around
in the end

it’s so easy
yet so testing

you got to win them over
do something amazing
that doesn’t even involve them
but you got to do it
or you won’t get them

but you will

the audience smiles
the children cringe
and everyone leaves
thinking of the wonderful life
the new lovers have ahead of
them

but it’s all a sham
keeping us distracted
from all the ways
that those lovers
aren’t anything like
us

why can’t love
be like the
movies?

I ask a simple question
so simple
there is no simple
answer
 Mar 2011 Megan Kirby
C
Your weltering words do not interest me
with its lack of true clarity.
Just your tongue
and all the inhuman noise it can make
Oh' schlepped out- sleeping son
you are the ever tediously coveting one
ungratefully burdened by soft sin
as if it does not alter the personality within.
Scrape gingerly the bottom of a bottle,
in despair carelessly compare disease
to your displeased humor, wash logic
along with blood from lacerated hands;
broken bottle pieces rasping like last words
empty of regret- with every sweep.
In blind acceptance with little malice
you slice ties cleanly as memories of allowance
have barely slipped and
menial wage paychecks become the sole script.
Only little things are still swingin'
but no longer with style,
limply dripping you are simply pathetic and
knowing this is the first step toward the corner mart,
wallet in pocket and to- locking all cold thoughts away
but you continuously fail to remember,
total absence is equivalent to suicide.
 Mar 2011 Megan Kirby
The Muse
Your touch
Your kiss
Your gentle ways
All I want
Is for you to love me

Your mind
Your ideas
Your meticulous thoughts
All I want
Is for you to love me

Your passion
Your power
Your overwhelming presence
All I want
Is for you to love me

My loneliness
My fear
My lack of self esteem
All I want is for you to love me

Our embrace
Our connection
Our undying chains
All I know
Is that you love me

7411
 Mar 2011 Megan Kirby
decompoetry
Cigarette ashes
spilled on the bible,
while violet lashes
intensified my vitals.

I saw the ashes
fallen from the ember,
such an abysmal symbol
staining thy holy center

with familiar cancer dust,
while unanswered questions rust,
until I can’t believe them,
I can’t believe you,

I can’t believe …

but I do.
 Mar 2011 Megan Kirby
decompoetry
The writer never strayed
from the same line
in his notebook,
yet the tip grew dull
and the page grew a hole
as deep as his desire
for satisfaction.

The lead bled red,
as did his tears
in his fit
of utter

madness;

he’d lost it.
At 4 am
He tried to talk about the stars
For some reason, you told him it's because he's never ****** before
And we all acted like that was okay

After he stumbled his best away from us
I told you how wrong you were
Then you asked if I could 'maybe help him out a little'
I haven't told you just how wrong that was

Waiting, standing, or sawying on the porch
We were joined by the others
To move on upstairs

Light it, smoke it, pass it, drink it
Now count them
Two, three, four, one after another
The bodies that dropped and rest where they fell
Producing a sweet slumbering silence
That I tried to take advantage of

But no, the guest bedroom is open
And you're awake
And you're drunk
And you smile at me crooked
I know very well your twisted pursuit
I know I'm not taking advantage of anything

We finish.

Back across the hall
To where your brother, among the others, slept
And I hoped he was dreaming about the sky
Or the conversation I would have liked to have with him about it

Almost 8 in the morning
Time for me to leave
But you had to lose your keys
And wake your brother to take me

In his truck, in the mirror
I examined myself
And said I looked like ****
He didn't even laugh
Instead, he told me that I never could

I lit a cigarette
Wondering
How he could say that
Not wondering
Why you never have.

We pass the construction, the apartments, and reach the house
I hugged him
'You're better than us.'

It's 10 pm the next night
And I hope he still wants to talk about the stars.
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