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 Jul 2014 Michael Duong
Amanda
The  tenderness of your words melded into my mind,

-I could pinky-swear that I heard jigsaw puzzle pieces fitting,
a rusty key into that untouched lock clicking softly.-

And frankly, I wish to think of it all over again, just like that first time.
Hey there lovely soul! x
 Jul 2014 Michael Duong
Amanda
Could you perhaps kiss the snippets of pain

Here,                        
                          here,
There
Bye, please?

My soul cannot bear to let more pieces of itself to be lost.

So, let them get hopelessly tangled in the dips & cracks of your voice
saying
Go
                    od
Bye.
My eyes burn when I close them. Goodness.
Do you guys get that?
Good morning sunshine/ Good Afternoon/ Sweet dreams to you, you and you.
xo
 Jul 2014 Michael Duong
Amanda
These bare walls whose peeling paint once felt the tremors, dips, quivers in your voice.

As my numb eyes and tired eyelids stare at them, they look
awfully lonely.

And this lull of loneliness seeps into these what I thought were  impervious pieces of myself.

Who knew lonely itself
could have such a
presence
in
the
e m p t y spaces of my chest & mind.
So, I took down these postcards that adorned my door for a few years. And boom, I felt terribly x (stupidly) emotional
= Nonsensical writing
Hope you, you and you have an absolutely lovely day!
xo
 Jul 2014 Michael Duong
Amanda
You are the most wondrous dizzying
mess of cells,
deoxyribonucleic acid,
erythrocytes,
words,
sounds,
murmurs,
thoughts & b
                           r
                                                 e a t h s.
Hey you, you and you!
Isn't your soul looking lovely?
I WATCHED TANGLED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE TODAY AND MY GOODNESS,
can I just collapse into a puddle of sweetness & *hugs*?
Please?
x
You fell in love with me.

I just hope you jumped.
Not slipped.
I wanted to write a poem about flowers, so that's what I did.
It was short, expressed how I feel, and cut like glass.
I showed my father "Flowers" and he thought it was mediocre.
And I said, "No, "Mediocre" is the poem where I talk about dying,
and I'm trying to stay alive, so I wrote about flowers."

Flowers strangling soil plots with their roots, with their existence.
And to hurt something you love with your existence is a terrible feeling.
I love you
not because
you're good looking

I love you
not because
you're caring

I love you
not because
you dote on me

I love you
not because
your smiles are sweet

I love you
not in lust
of your crevice
or orifice
or skin

I love you
because
without you
I feel

incomplete within.
I am lost.
Yet,
Something is telling me you are just like me.
Maybe
We were put in the darkness
To find each other.
Scibile Definition: Something which it is possible to know.
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