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I drown myself with
Everything but love
Tell myself
I don't need you
Truth is
I don't
Yet our realities are
Self fabricated
And in my reality
I do
Need you

Every word accompanied
By ear pleasing sound
My mind slithers back
To thoughts of you
You. You. You.
But the truth will set in
And it'll pull me back to
Logic-constructed reality
I don't need you
Not till I think
I do
Need you
 Jan 2014 Michael Pick
haley
i am the glassy sheet of ice

that folds in upon itself suddenly with the slightest touch

and the leaf that was shed in autumn

to be uncovered, a skeleton

all dry veins and paper thin

in spring.

i wake up sometimes in the middle of the night

and your name is

crawling up my throat

i swallow it like a pill

without water

and i can still taste it

in the back of my mouth.
 Jan 2014 Michael Pick
Jack
Windows
 Jan 2014 Michael Pick
Jack
Windows only let us see
What doorways block from view
It doesn’t matter much to me
If what I see is you

Shutters locked to fend the cold
As winter winds now chill
Memories you can’t unfold
In knots to try your will

Teddy bears and butterflies
Upon your table sit
Beauty framed in sorrowed sighs
In moments felt to quit

Loneliness it seems your friend
Perhaps it just might be
Though if the darkness does offend
I hope you think of me

And if the frosted panes incite
Clouded thoughts to flow
And daylight brings the darkest nights
I just want you to know

Windows only let us see
What doorways block from view
It doesn’t matter much to me
If what I see is you
 Jan 2014 Michael Pick
Anon C
You painted yourself with every color
I may have loved black and white as much if not more
yet the ink was illegible between the lines

I never knew who resided in the picture
decimation claims the land that would be our future
with lies justified in anothers eyes
Making yourself someone you're not is never good. Never makes you more than what you are. As the grimm brothers so graciously put it, "The sun always brings truth to light."
I've had a poem on my heart lately
That I've not been able to put into words.
I'm not even sure what it's about-
Maybe it's about you,
Maybe it's about me,
Or maybe it's about the world.

But maybe it's not about
What poem's been on my heart,
Maybe, there might be a chance
That our hearts
Are really poems.

Maybe every bruise
And every crack
And crevice
Is a new stanza
Being written.

Maybe every heartache
Is a new line
And every teardrop
Is a new word.

This might just be a wishful thought
But what if every wishful thought
Is a new metaphor
And every broken dream
Is a simile.

What if our hearts
Are all poems
That God is writing
Using us
As the pen?

What if every day
Is a new example
Of imperfection
Being used
To carry out
A perfect will?

If our hearts
Are really just poems,
And poems
Are really just hearts
On paper,
Then I guess
We're all living works of art
Writing one poem
All together
With billions of different stories
And even more different verses
And each one is just as important
As the one before.

So maybe
I don't really have
A poem
On my heart,
Maybe my heart
Is a poem
Asking,
Begging,
Pleading
To be put
Into words
And freed.
 Jan 2014 Michael Pick
aviisevil
A silent symphony plays in the background
Soothing the atmosphere of its whispers and tears
There's an aroma of quietness all around
A hint of madness in serenity it bears
Tommorows cease to exist from now on
and can you not hear
Life singing the yesterday's songs
To be lost in the approaching calmness my dear
Time slows down to a halt
Too tired to move and caress the impending doom
And night saves the memory to be kept in a vault
Safe and hidden from the looming gloom
And I lie in ecstasy
a dream I longed to dream
A fading reality
To be erased of all that I've seen
And I recall my oldest friend
A hope that I banished long ago
But it haunts me again in the end
And the hope to feel alive grows
A spark in the embed darkness
Ignites the desires I locked away
And it possess me once again
To let me please my whites and greys
And I bleed of all that poison
That this world and I brew
Letting go of all the answers
That once my soul knew
Slowly but surely
The coldness I nurtured is replaced by the warmth of my sin
And I wonder with peace
What the marrow may bring
And I dream away my life
As I exhale my last precious breath
Forever lost in my sweet dream
into the approaching beautiful death
Smiling while the Earth breaks around me,
its covered in shadow,
with little light trying to show,
I say to myself, "this should be a new low"
as fire erupts around me, beautiful chaos, like a mind after a line of blow,
but the darkness tries to take,
it tears and my mind it tries to ****,
but a little light tugging at my side,
forcing the darkness to run and hide,
the wind is rich and full of electricity,
my soul along its edges have burned,
I love the fact that I love you, even if it's not returned.

Smiling through the chaos.
I'm a lover of beautiful contradictions, and this is one I have always liked... I had an old friend and I didnt realize I was in love with her till after she was married to someone else...its not like loving someone you dont know or keeping it hidden or far away, I told her and moved on, but for that moment of realizing I had loved her was the thing I was trying to get at...and smiling at it ...on a side note..I think this poem is one of my most badass haha..
 Dec 2013 Michael Pick
Morgan
there's a map beneath my skin
but the lines point in
all different directions
a slash for the boredom,
a couple for the chaos
follow it to where it splits
and tell me that it's okay
and i'm "just a little sick"
you won't lay in my bed
once you see what
it's like inside my head
so please just
don't wander in at all
cause i'm so *******
sick of helping you find
your way out
drunk 'poetry'
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