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the greatest advice
I've ever been given
was to try everything
at least once,
so I could form my
own opinion.

I tried counting
the constellations,
and sleeping
under the moon.
I can still remember
how much I loved
the pirouettes
of the fireflies.

I tried running
away from lions,
and stealing
wishes from the sea,
I remember
how I woke up
screaming.

maybe that advice
wasn't as great
as I made it
out to be.
because I tried
falling in love,
and I can tell you
right now,
that I'm still trying
to figure out
how I feel about that.


a.d.
We think death is romantic
Because the same lilies our ex bought us
On our first date are neatly draped
Over the caskets as decoration
(But there are no flowers in our arms
As we lie alone inside)

We think death is liberating
Because we imagine the shackles
Of society falling off our wrists and ankles
As we fly to a better place
(But in reality
We are locked in a prison
Beneath six feet of dirt)

We think death is infinite
Because we can never return
To the people who harmed us
And the house that was never a home
(But our bodies are not eternal
As they slowly decompose
Back to nature in the ground)

What we fail to realize is that
Life is romantic, liberating, and infinite

Romantic in the form of a sunrise
Climbing over a calm sea,
Liberating in the form of birds
Traveling to anywhere they please,
Infinite in the form of flowers,
Dying and regrowing in the spring

So on the day that you make your decision,
To end your (romantic, liberating,
And infinite) life I beg you to reconsider,
Because you may already have exactly
What you are looking for.
Stage One - Experimentation:
I've seen it before, on movies and television shows.
The peer pressure, the giving in, the going back again.
And that's exactly what it felt like to me.
The pressure of your hand against the small of my back,
The way my body fell apart at your touch,
Like an ancient foundation crumbling,
And the desire that stirred in my chest to feel your touch once more.
At first, I only wanted a taste of you.
But the thrill that you brought me was something not easily forgotten.

Stage Two - Regular Use:
It became a casual thing,
Feeling you coursing through my bloodstream.
A knock on the door like the prep of a needle,
And your hand pulling me in like the ***** of skin,
And within seconds, a high I couldn't recognize,
As though I was walking on the sky and the
Grass was tickling my eyelashes,
And your fingers were pressed
Into the dimples in my hips.

Step Three - Risky Use/Abuse:
Before I knew it,
I was lying awake,
Wide-eyed in bed at night,
Imagining your fingertips
Tracing the inside of my thighs.
So I brought my pillow and blanket
And pitched a tent at the foot of your bed.
Then swore to myself I'd never leave your house again.

Step Four - Drug Dependency:*
A minute without your breath against my neck
Causes my chest to burn and my knees to shake,
But every time your breath fills my lungs,
I can feel the years of my life falling away.
Your lips are my nourishment,
Your sighs are my fluids,
And your kiss is my IV drip.
Every part of you has consumed every inch of my thoughts,
Even the dusty corners I have forgotten about,
And with every gentle touch, I can feel the withering of my heart,
Like a flower never to bloom again,
But it's a beautiful destruction.
 Jun 2013 naivemoon
Lexi
Thing
 Jun 2013 naivemoon
Lexi
within the word, "everything,"
you find the word, "thing."
such a mundane word
for something that encompasses
every aspect of who i am.
and maybe that's suiting.
or maybe it's diminishing.
i may not know a lot about who i am,
who i'd like to be,
where i'd like to go,
or what i'd like to do.
but i do know that there will be many "things"
accompanying me on my journey.
like my little nothings,
your sweet love notes
i hide in my favorite place.
or my art things
which i only stare in amazement
(and maybe intimidation-- i never use those things).
there will be somethings,
the feeling under my skin
when all i'd like to do is disappear
or when you whisper words
into my ear, words i've never heard before.
i can only hope there will be everythings
you, you are my everything
us, we are everything i thought love was meant to be (and more)
me, undeniably in love with you,
who you are,
who you want to be,
where you'd like to go,
and what you'd like to do.
and hopefully this something
will turn into a thing of the universe
(but never a mundane aspect)
with things, come hope,
and nothing is always guaranteed.
 Jun 2013 naivemoon
Lexi
i could say a lot of words
but they'd never mean as much as your three do to me
a lot of syllables strung together
with pretty punctuation
like the golden flecks embedded in your eyes
and rhythmic lilts and twirls
like the way we sway together to no music
i could list the reasons
why i stay up too late to talk to you
why i think in terms of 'we' not 'me'
why i would give up a million words for your three
or why i find myself smiling at the mere stupidity i succumbed to
but you know the answer
you know why without need for any words
you know why without need for those three
 Jun 2013 naivemoon
Erica Stroud
To be thought of as perfect...

Would it be a confidence boost or
Too much pressure?

Would you use it to your advantage or
Try to be what they expect?

Would it tear you apart or
Build you up?

What would the perfect person look like?**

Compassionate.
Humble.
Truthful.
We say the rain
Shouldn't fall
On our heads
Because it's an
Inconvenience,
But we fail to
Realize that its
Purpose far
Exceeds us.
Two lovers
Standing on the side
Of a ship, peering down
To the sea below.

I was the southern belle
With one hand on my coin purse
And the other on my cap, holding
It in place despite the breeze
Sweeping off the sea.

You were the southern gentleman
One hand in your pocket, toying with
Your antique watch that always seemed to
Be a minute late, and the other on the
Railing, keeping you steady as you
Squint ahead in an attempt to
Separate the seams of
Sky and sea.

A wave of mass proportion
Heaves the ship to one side,
Causing me to slip from the
Balcony and into the railing.

You immediately tear your eyes
From the sky and into mine as you
Reach for me, grabbing my hands
And attempting to pull me to safety.

But the ship leans,
And I slide over the side,
Your hands the only thing
Anchoring me to anything.

You are under the impression
That you can pull me in, but the
Sea has something else in mind.
It rocks the ship, throwing me
Against the side and then
Tossing me back out again.

Your eyes are desperate,
Your grip is sturdy,
But your body is
A victim of
Gravity.

I can feel you
Leaning further
Over the side, your
Eyes still searching mine.

I know that
If I continue to
Hold the hand that
Has always saved me,
It will only endanger you.

So I pull
My fingers
From your grasp
And watch your eyes
As I fall to my death, but
I know that I have saved you.
 Jun 2013 naivemoon
pandemonium
A word of advice: don't ever tell her she's a daddy's little girl
funny isn't it when she speaks of her dad,
she sounds like every other normal girl
that it would never come across your mind
she would be the one who receives the beating
when he's angry, whether at her or someone else.

She loathes him with all her heart
and I kid you not, this isn't a mere exaggeration
but believe it or not, she is very much like him
though she refuses to believe or admit it, she is.

They say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree
she is as hot-tempered and stubborn as he is
her hands are as fast as her mind, once you **** her
she won't think twice about laying her hand on you
bear in mind that her petite figure aches to hurt
the pain she absorbs is greater when released.

"Like father like daughter" they love to claim
but she is nothing like him, like a shadow she resembles
only his physical traits and they're what she's known for
though her heart is ice cold, breathe a little fire to it
it will melt, she likes to think they're stone cold
but you'll be surprised at how sympathetic she can be.

She is bulletproof, her heart heavy on lockdown
nothing can hurt her worst than the tyrant in her house
but she endures and she triumphs and she learns
her fortress stood tall, guarding her from enemies
her mind seems to always be at war;
does she want to grow up to be like her father?

I always feel like I am two different souls in a body
I have the devil's fingerprints but the angel's persona
resides in me as well, and they're always fighting
at times, they get along and I am in peace
though my blood taints of my father,
I am not like him
but let me take you back to the start;
maybe I am a daddy's little girl.
 Jun 2013 naivemoon
pandemonium
We're one half of a pair of jigsaw puzzle
and like many puzzles, we will meet
the wrong other half
before we find one that is made
to fit with us
but what if along the way,
in the process of finding our other half
we have deformed ourselves
in order to try and fit with the ones
that are just not meant for us?
Does it mean our original shape will no longer
be for the one we're destined for?
And we missed the chance of our
fated happily forever and after?
Or are we meant to be damaged?
So we can fit with another shape
that is also damaged,
but the type of damage that is supposed
to go along with you?
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