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 Oct 2014 miss pie
D'Arcy Sahn
I need a poem
Writer's block is killing me
Woah I found a grape
Please comment with ideas for a poem. The more random or obscure, the better.
 Oct 2014 miss pie
Josephine
I built a home between his hip bones
Though I don't visit all too often
It is a sanctuary
Not the only one but my first true sin
Bruised skin
Flesh on flesh
I swear god put him on this earth just as a test
To watch me give in
Again and again
I can't say no
I can't pretend
You found my frail self screaming, crying on your bathroom floor
We spilt the the wine of life
You striped me of my bile covered clothes
Dragged me to shower
You sat there stroking my head for what felt like 24 hours
Oh the taste of relapse
Smells of cigarettes and silence
Feels like hitting the wall and then being buried under the bricks
In and out in and out
Regain consciousness
Look in the mirror
Take another hit
Breathe
Sitting in that dimly lit room full of mirrors and couches
Memories, more memories
We sat together, limbs entangled
We thanked god for that white powder
We cursed at lucifer for our delicate addiction
Inhale
Feel the burn
Wow
"I missed you so much"
Maybe once again I'll visit the home between your hips
And we'll fall in love again
Oh the taste of relapse
So bitter sweet
"I can smell the chemicals on your skin, let's give in"
 Oct 2014 miss pie
shadow girl
I'm the oldest
I'm the largest of the three
Covered by casing stones
That formed a smooth outer surface
What am i?
 Oct 2014 miss pie
r
discordant
 Oct 2014 miss pie
r
discordant qualities
- a layered beauty
worn casually

- a complicated
pretty lady -

i paint her black
lace *******
- i praise her
on her knees.

r ~ 10/24/14
: )
 Oct 2014 miss pie
Gage Kelso
She dyed her hair dark
To match her young heart, once red
Like the scars that cover her arms
The lies in her head
Come apart when she cries
Every word from her mouth is a beautiful lie
Look into her eyes
They're screaming suicide
But somewhere inside's a girl who doesn't want to die
good weather
is like
good women-
it doesn't always happen
and when it does
it doesn't
always last.
man is
more stable:
if he's bad
there's more chance
he'll stay that way,
or if he's good
he might hang
on,
but a woman
is changed
by
children
age
diet
conversation
***
the moon
the absence or
presence of sun
or good times.
a woman must be nursed
into subsistence
by love
where a man can become
stronger
by being hated.
I am drinking tonight in Spangler's Bar
and I remember the cows
I once painted in Art class
and they looked good
they looked better than anything
in here. I am drinking in Spangler's Bar
wondering which to love and which
to hate, but the rules are gone:
I love and hate only
myself-
they stand outside me
like an orange dropped from the table
and rolling away; it's what I've got to
decide:
**** myself or
love myself?
which is the treason?
where's the information
coming from?
books...like broken glass:
I wouldn't wipe my *** with 'em
yet, it's getting
darker, see?
(we drink here and speak to
each other and
seem knowing.)
buy the cow with the biggest
****
buy the cow with the biggest
****.
present arms.
the bartender slides me a beer
it runs down the bar
like an Olympic sprinter
and the pair of pliers that is my hand
stops it, lifts it,
golden **** of dull temptation,
I drink and
stand there
the weather bad for cows
but my brush is ready
to stroke up
the green grass straw eye
sadness takes me all over
and I drink the beer straight down
order a shot
fast
to give me the guts and the love to
go
on.
from "poems written before jumping out of an 8 story window" - 1966
I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.
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