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The moon breaks through the window with luminosity
Your chest rises and falls lightly with every calming breath
My pale fingers trace your gorgeous skin as I lay awake
I blink with every inhale of breath your sleeping body takes
Our legs are tangled together to keep us from moving apart

My fingers seem to trail towards your collar bones
Chirping crickets and hissing cicadas fill the silent void
My colorless lips tug into a smile for you have awoken
Your lips lure towards my ear in a swift manner
Words of love and wishes for the future pour from your lips

And we end the night with a simple kiss
All she see's is sea.
Cold water. Pass at the knees.
Undertow. Left Alone.
And suddenly.

The crash of sliding breaks breaks on old beaten rock.
The mind stops.
The sand finds its way into every detail of her figure.
Like water soaking in an old sponge.
Eyes glisten likes stars
Millions of lightyears away
Yet they're in my arms
I sit back and contemplate
This reality that I live in
Trying to imagine
Some other dimension
Where I'd make
A different decision
Than the ones
On the daily
Which I'm permitting
I question this world
In every sense
Trying to make sense
Why everybody
Gives me their two cents
And I sense
That it might be a sense
Of power that they feel
So how do I feel
Like everybody else
Because this feeling inside
Never fails
 Feb 2014 Meghan Marie
armon
So many words
Such little meaning
Its not your words that tell me your feelings
Don’t have to guess the way that you’re leaning
I’ll crack the sky or at least the ceiling

So many lines
Some silver lining
I am the alchemist synthesizing
Live with the knowledge that you’re declining
While I ascend
Uproot the uprising

I am the king
I am the diamond
I am the one who says so, the Simon
I am above
I am the legend
I am the force that drives every engine

I am alive
I’m more than alive
I am the spark igniting the *** drive
I am the fiber
I am the source code
I am the dynamite set to explode

So many gods
So many temples
It’s not the gods that make me a-tremble
Translate the power
Speak to the devil
He is the writer
I am the pencil

So many guns
Such little patience
I am a curator of the ancient
I am the book
I am the history
I am the meaning
I am the mystery

I am the giant
I am the titan
I am the hidden strength
I’m the lion
I am the love
I am the hatred
I am the ******
I’m the naked

I am the tomb
I am the symbol
I am the complex
I am the simple
I am the rule
I am the riddle
I am the equal
I am the middle



Such little love
Such little content
Is it unfair to ask where the love went
I touched the body
I touched the soul
I mastered the secret to self control

Such a disgrace
Such paranoia
You are the dark, Francisco de Goya
Die with the damage
****** and grotesque
You’re the decree
A half-muttered protest

I am the one
I am the master
I am the one survivor they’re after
I am the hunter
I am the hunted
I am the needed
I am the wanted

I am alive
I speak for the living
I am the one who’s taking and giving
I am the blight
I am the plague
I am the one who needs to be saved


So many strings
Such orchestration
I am the heart of every nation
I am the puppeteer
I’m the puppet
I am the base, the peak, and the summit

So many worlds
So many timelines
I am the multiverse
I’m the road sign
I am the white
I am the black
I am the siege
I am the attack

So many words
Such little meaning
Its not your words that tell me your feelings
Don’t have to guess the way that you’re leaning
I’ll crack the sky or at least the ceiling

So many lines
Warning the caution
I am the single choice
I’m the option
Die with the truth that you’ll be forgotten
I loved a world but that world was rotten
TWO loves had I. Now both are dead,
And both are marked by tombstones white.
The one stands in the churchyard near,
The other hid from mortal sight.

The name on one all men may read,        
And learn who lies beneath the stone;
The other name is written where
No eyes can read it but my own.

On one I plant a living flower,
And cherish it with loving hands;      
I shun the single withered leaf
That tells me where the other stands.

To that white tombstone on the hill
In summer days I often go;
From this white stone that nearer lies
I turn me with unuttered woe.

O God, I pray, if love must die,
And make no more of life a part,
Let witness be where all can see,
And not within a living heart.
 Feb 2014 Meghan Marie
Arnold Sin
Simple desires are all I crave, like the soft whisper of your voice in my ear.
Your hands caressing mine as we lay awake on the clear summers night in the fields over looking the world at our feet.
Alas what was once a reality, is only a reality in my dreams, dreams of which feel like the most heart wrenching night terrors which sit me down and torture me, but leave me yearning for more.
So be it, I'm sick and twisted but does one blame me for desiring the most simple of desires?
Love poems. creative spark. lemme know what you guys think.
dreams, past.
Her toes awash with dusty mist
Footsteps. Silence
The desert ate her inside out
Swallowed up her chaos
Vastness sometimes halts the moon
The horizon line abundance
The magic carpet of the West
Wove itself of footpath threads
Rolled out and beaten clean
Presence
I've known every type of person
Who has ever roamed this Earth
Known every beaten, broken, dead girl
Known every happy, brilliant, innocent boy
I may have never seen their eyes
But I've know them, none the less

I've known smiles and laugh lines
Of an old mother looking at her son
Known the sparkle in her eyes
Know the desparation in her hugs
No, my mother was never like that
But, all the same, I've known her

I've known bruises and black eyes
Of an abused five-year-old girl
Known the hatred for her father
Known the love that is still buried deep
I was never hurt like she was
But I still feel like I've known her

I've known church bells and crosses
Of a preacher long since his calling
Known his sermons and hymns
Known his passion as he spoke to the church
No, I've never believe in God
But I've known the preacher of his word

I've known ledges and pill bottles
Of a teenage boy who can't handle it anymore
Known the willingness to jump and swallow
Known the unwillingness to do so
I've never done the same as him
But I just know that I've known him

I've known music and lyrics
Of an unknown rock band
Known their words as they wrote
Known their soul behind every piece
No, I've never seen them live
But their music says I've known them

I've known cuts and razors
Of an unaccepted middle child
Known the tears she cries at night
Known the fear of being caught
I have never known that fear
But I'm confident that I've known her

I've known every type of person
Who has ever roamed this Earth
Known all the lovers, abusers, preachers
Known all the killers, players, cutters
No, I am not like any of them
But maybe that's why I'm so lost.
Your best odds rest on rest.
Speed kills, horizontal in its nature,
it fights growing upward.
Clouds travel continents,
living conversations between breath
and potential, lazing in
sunshine, dancing into new shapes
on impulses they don't try to control.
Not molded, but explosive,
they disappear, when it's
convenient for them.
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