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Blaine Apr 25
If I was a religious man,
I would ask who made the stars.
Took a needle and pin-pricked the dark fabric of the sky

If I was a scientist,
I would ask how the stars stay alive.
Fascinated by gasses and reactions countless miles away

If I was an explorer,
I would pine to see the stars.
Experience the danger and beauty firsthand, like no one else

But I am just a humble man of words
The only question I have in regards to the stars
Is how they wound up in your eyes.
Blaine Apr 24
I hoped to turn you into a poem

Sequester your soul into a sonnet
Contain your qualities in couplets
Herd your hopes into haiku

Because poems, I can control
I can preserve; can keep in stasis

I can keep the concept of you that I crave
I don't have to face the reality that I chose wrong
That you never were the person I thought

You are no more a poem than I am
Your meter and rhyme cannot be captured
I am ashamed that I tried to do so
Blaine Apr 23
Where beauty fades
into twisting willows
and coolest zephyrs grow
into gusting billows
In the land where every (and no)
thing is seen
that is where
we find our dreams.
Blaine Apr 23
I soliliquize and apologize in the same breath
Not that I didn’t mean what I said
Just that I don’t think you wanted to know that I meant it
In the moments where my façade breaks and my feelings shine through
I’m left with panic that I’ve ruined things with you

— The End —