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 Feb 2021 ghost man
Kaliya Skye
I found God betwixt our racing heartbeats
When two became one in our college dorm’s sheets
We rose with a panic; the trip to class manic
A lust that ran hot, but would never grow old

I saw you two moon’s back,
To get my old book that,
Once I had lent you before I was scorned
Although I felt I might stain it,
With tears, having held it
I noticed you let the **** thing get torn

And I’m here, worn out by a lover that let me know more his name
I’m worn out, torn about, caught in the middle, haunted by your flame

I found Hell’s fire in the music we made
I’d bleed for your sorrows, be kissed by your blade
But it was the season, for acting a heathen
A rose that grew wild, but died in the rain

And I’m here, thrown back, remembering April, the taste of my pain
Yes I’m here, caught up, wishing I’d forget the sound of your name

I saw you two moon’s back,
And I tried not to wear black,
Although I, in mourning, could not meet your face
I met you briefly, so I could appear sweetly
At home, crying gently- upon the old page

And I’m here, thrown back, remembering April, the taste of my pain
Yes I’m here, caught up, wishing I’d forget the sound of your name

I found hope in a mini-symphony,
A song half-remembered, you once sang to me
You felt like you could, so I came and I did
To grab an old comic, my tragic heart skipped

And I’m here, thrown back, remembering April, the taste of my pain
Yes I’m here, caught up, wishing I’d forget the sound of your name

I saw you two moons back,
Striped shirt, had to look at
The way that time had altered your face
And I don’t think I missed you
But I needed to see you,
I needed a memory that I could replace

And I’m here, whispering, to the shadows I see alone in my room
I’m here, wondering, if you noticed how much a year’s altered me too
Inspired by the very bent cover of a much loved book, lent to someone who left me tattered as the pages of what I'd given them. Also inspired by Hozier singing about Whiskey. : )
 Feb 2021 ghost man
Kaliya Skye
Starved or over–fed by the stars,
Ivory tints to the shade of strawberries

Over Ripe
And wondering when she'll heal.

He's busy in his study, looking up the way
That a plant can cure the sting.

Often she wonders, as she looks to the sky
Do stars twinkle in morse code,
Whispering secrets for us to hold?

She feels too young to know the answers,
But she always finds her way.
She know the moon has begun to love her,
But she's always led astray.

And she holds onto his sweet nothings
Like it's a fraying rope,
Praying they'll survive this.

But he's been silent these past few days,
So she runs to the highest hill.
Looks up to the stars, asking for guidance.

And even the universe seems conflicted
And the divine asks for her advice on timing,
And she feels afraid, she's shrunk again,
And this time she's much too small to see.

The moon guiding her.
The stars wishing on her.
The sun tinting her pink to make her blush.
The universe pushing her forward.
All she sees is him, but he isn't looking back.

She sees him in their room at night,
and at the bottom of her chardonnay
She's so sure he'll speak to her,
So she stays, ready to listen.
 Feb 2021 ghost man
Kaliya Skye
you're the first hit of a lollipop;
a sucker punch
you're the feeling in my stomach
when i revisit lunch
you're the way my body shakes when it needs caffeine
you're the world as it's collapsing there, on top of me

and ain't it sweet?
and ain't it grand?
i stopped it all to hold your hand.
but time moves quick, a year has passed
i'm tired of the games,
but oh, how your laugh...

it pulls me in, i don't know how
i curtsey still, you take a bow

and now i'm home, for i am dancing
into your arms, you're just a stranger
who wears his face

the man i knew

it's been too long, he can't be you

but if you're sorry, i guess you'll do
to manifest, it's so taboo
yet, i light the candle
i whisper prayer
to a god i don't think is there

and i am singing,
tears in my eyes
you loved my voice, but made me cry

and i am lonely
as i am typing
out my last letters
before goodbye-ing

i hope you're happy,
i miss your family
i hardly knew you
but i was falling

and now i'm lying
not in my bed
but to your back,
as all goes red

but am i angry?
or just alone
with the thought that
i'm growing old?

and when i'm greying,
will you be there?
spinning stories as i rock in my chair?
 Dec 2020 ghost man
emily
skeletons
 Dec 2020 ghost man
emily
Everyone’s got a skeleton in their closet
but I’m still alive in here.
Everybody seems to live a life that’s honest
but mines been a lie I fear.

Well maybe I just want to be "different"
But I know that it’s not the case.
'Cause I have always been keeping to the background
Hiding my true face.

It's never going to be easier,
They'll just see me as a movie monster.
Though I'm only a fraction of the whole
It's still too hard for me to let you know that...

I'm not yet who I'm meant to be but I'll get there someday.
At the very least, I hope I do.
And that I'll still do right by you.

I am not broken, I am not confused.
No, I've always known who I am.
But nobody wants to hear that news
So I'll stay with the skeletons for now...
lyrics from a song
 Dec 2020 ghost man
Kaliya Skye
how long have i been standing here
the edge of the roof seems so high
and i've always been afraid of heights
but like the fool i feel i should leap

why won't the songs i love
fit the mood that i am in?

i keep pressing shuffle,
"surprise me," i ask the universe
that embodies my fingertip
as i press the button
over and over again

and i sit at the edge of the world
which is only a rooftop,
looking for the right song for the occasion

how can every sound feel wrong?

in this moment, i'm convinced
you've sabotaged my goodbye

so i stand back up, looking over the edge

it's only a ladder's length down,
but somehow climbing is scarier
than a fall could ever be
the pace makes all the difference.

so perhaps, i should just take
a couple steps back
and take a deep breath

and while the sky isn't blue
and i am alone with thoughts in my head
perhaps this might be a nice place
to paint a picture of what it is that i want

i feel like i'm constantly forgetting
who the little girl i wanted to be
had as an answer for the future

but one day i'll make her proud

her little smile is worth it

and maybe, that's what your sabotage did

it made me look away from the world
and into my head for a moment
and i've spent so many weeks clearing out cobwebs that i wonder
if it was your plan all along

you think of me often, but your hand
hovers over the button

press send. stop leaving it to fate.

i can only have 3-day lovers for so long

i still remember how it feels to run
my hands through misbehaving hair
cinnamon sighs escaping unkissed lips
as we discuss what's on your plate
before you fill mine with fresh fruit
and pancakes

why are you on my mind?

you've been a stranger far too long to be a friend

and yet i see you in my dreams

ask to kiss me in the dead of night
lazily lay an arm on my waist
and whisper out wishes for tomorrow

are you letting yourself rest nowadays?

are you still worried about your brother?

are you still in your head?

did he ever message you back?

do you still write songs?

did you unite your preponderances

with the sound?

or are you still sitting in your void

snapping to find the echo

within an empty room

cluttered with fancy clothes

and fairy lights?

perhaps your top hat sits upturned
among your sheets and ship
along with two copies of a tape
of a movie you don't care about

maybe you're shutting out the world
with parties you know are unsafe
to feel alive during the plague

do you still think of those two bears
on their bike, left to their own devices
in a little display where we could point
murmuring between camera clicks
that "that one's dressed like you!"
and "this one has my hat!"

do you still hate my guts for crimes
i never commited?

do you still want my father's job?

i still have a wrapped up piece of you
in a plastic bag in my bedroom
half hidden so i dont think about it

i have other means to get high,
so i never smoked it.

can we trade?

you don't need to say hello,

or to hold me as i cry.

but could i please have my stuff back?

i miss those safe pages i let you hold
i sense your presence when i am half asleep, but what do you call wishful thinking when it's only neutral?
 Jan 2019 ghost man
Eric W
Treasure
 Jan 2019 ghost man
Eric W
We discovered this love,
what would come to be
our love,
as one would discover a treasure.
An unthinkable blessing
washed up upon a shore
and buried by time's
relentless sands.
A laden chest full of golden
memories and heavy with
endless possibility,
unlocked and free and
all for us.
We held no treasure map,
maybe stubbed our toes,
but found it
just the same,
this eternal gift from the sea,
this eternal love.
One learns not to question blessings such as these.
 Jan 2019 ghost man
Francie Lynch
Celebrities make poor politicians.
Poor politicians become celebrities.
Click. Clique.
Makes one shutter): Why are politicians celebrities? They have enough power without fame and its accompanying influence. I understand entertainment, sports and writers becoming famous because they've actually done something, but too many politicians lack what we deem desirable (Jesus is the exception).
 Jan 2019 ghost man
Marya0324
Every so often, there comes a day
When one's pain rises beyond words
When even tears refuse to fall
A broken heart screams, but remains unheard.
 Jan 2019 ghost man
Francie Lynch
I was born.
I was born male.
I was born white male.
I was born white, male Caucasian.
I was born white, male Caucasian in a Republic.
I was born white, male, Caucasian, in a First World Republic.
I was born white, male, Caucasian, in a First World Republic,
     in a large, loving family.

I was born white, male, Caucasian, in a First World Republic,
     in a large loving family, and I'll never work as a talking head.
Why, tell me, do all the others have all the luck.
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