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 May 2017 Mona
Onoma
Love gone wrong's like
air-dropped light dead
to its sun, a retarder
of body language.
Can you read this
decorous purple?
I need you to break
thru, call dibs on my
lone planetary routine.
Then we'll get skin
right, we'll cry about
how good it feels to
attach boundaries.
 May 2017 Mona
Onoma
Flying Rats
 May 2017 Mona
Onoma
Today I heard a song in passing--
newly dazed lights doo-wopping,
whiney vibratory strings caught
in throaty cries.
Pausing for station identification
on a new planet.
Incessant preciousness tripping
over the fact of a tiny body.
You were born atop a storefront's
air conditioner, I never saw baby
pigeons in New York City before.
Some people here call them flying
rats, **** em--happy belated birthday.
Crushed like a dried up leaf,
Damaged beyond repair,

She is Autumn's remains;
Such is life, cruel and unfair.

She is under ***** feet,
Left out in heavy rain,

It truly is such a crime,
A terrible, terrible shame!

Not a single thought spared
For how beautiful her soul
Used to be,

Or for how she held on so tightly
To the big branch
Of her beloved giant tree.

Not a single thought goes out
To how tender and loving
She naturally was,

Overlooking her dying spirit,
Is what everybody does.

Now, as she surrenders,
As she gives up on everything,

All that she holds onto
Are her precious memories,
And her undying simple dreams;
The dreams that really, really
Meant something.

By Lady R.F. (C) 2017
She's tired of fighting
To keep her soul's fire alive,

She's been in a constant battle
Just trying to survive.

Overdrive,

Overdrive,

She's totally over
The long, hard road, drive,

Always giving,
Whilst her needs
She deprives.

Nosedive,

Nosedive,

Her heart and mind
Are taking a plunge,
A freeing, freefall dive,

She's tired
Of letting the backstabbers
Take advantage of her;
She's over the malicious way
That they conspire and connive.

By Lady R.F  (C) 2017
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