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Nameless Nov 2013
Art
maybe it's true that only the
truly insane
can fully appreciate art
because maybe it's also true
that only the truly insane
can really create art
Nameless Nov 2013
there once lived a poet
who had a knack for
the rain
and self destructive behavior
and somehow
turning everyone and everything
in to verses made of whispering words
gave her some sanity
or maybe it took what little sanity she had
away
she could never tell
Nameless Nov 2013
i can't remember the day we first met
but i can remember the first time we kissed
and you walked away
as i stood there and fought with all I had
to not scream and dance around in circles

i don't remember the first thing
you ever said to me
but i can remember how
when i sat in a hospital bed
and the nurses were drawing blood from
the crazy girl with sad eyes,
you told me that you thought
that i was the most amazing girl you'd ever met

i can't remember what you were wearing
when i first saw you
but i can remember how mesmerizing you looked
in the black suit your wore that night
when i realized i was falling for you

and i can't remember what event it was exactly
that brought you to me
but it was the best thing
that's ever happened to me

because now i have you.
Nameless Nov 2013
your crystal eyes are
the home I never had,
reflecting back to me
fragments of the sun
that I grab hold of and
inhale into the back parts of my lungs
   like
spring flowers
I shoot into my veins
that are otherwise filled
with ice and faded memories
of a girl who used to laugh
and look at the stars
Nameless Nov 2013
A day
For every drop of water
There is in the ocean,
Is how many days
I'll love
      You.
Nameless Nov 2013
Come sit with me
in the velvet textured
yellow flower petals
and whisper the words
that the stars never speak.

the vast blackness of the night sky
holds me tightly
and gazes at the colors surrounding your heart
in a way that makes even me jealous.

and if my face appears
in your dreams tonight my love,
would you recognize it?
Nameless Nov 2013
why can illusion not
synthesize in the dreams
my subconscious paints
the way it constitutes my
gullible awakened perception?
sprinkle fragments of light from the moon
and pinches of a powder made
from the innocence of a child
on top of your exuded love
that I inhale into the
deepest parts of my lungs
Fearful that one day it might escape
and the disillusioned state of my
inner self will see nothing but
the stars weeping
as you walk away from me.
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