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If the whole world had been a dream
and you and I
were magical characters on the screen
Could we make the people
dance and sing?
What if we could go back in time
(perhaps a fantasy that's all mine)
Removing money from politics
(Turning the Koch brothers into Old St. Nick's)
The sky's the limit let's go to town!
Let's go and turn this upside down!
Certain members of the House and Senate
would "trade lives" with all they've called "those kind"
stuck below the poverty line
Imagine all the joy they'd feel
when they realize... Oh, my God,
"This is real...
I never said the word, Repeal!"
Rachel Maddow would get a crown
for pointing out the bogus clowns.
Congress would have to pass some bills
or, lose their jobs up on the hill.
Oh, how the world would dance n' sing
to know once more
to have this thing
we once called, The American Dream.
© 2014
 Apr 2014 Olivia Mercado
Molly
She loves every one of her victims.
From the bottom of her cold well of a heart,
she loves them.

She would never ****
an innocent creature;
they all deserve it.

She stalks her prey,
she gets in close,
they begin to whisper

their evil little secrets.
No one is blameless.
She knows this.

Dig deep enough,
find the truth.
It is soiled.

She slits their throats.
You are released
from your sins,


she ensures them.
Through hot blood,
they promise they love her, too.
 Apr 2014 Olivia Mercado
Molly
You have cuts on your arm
that you name after people
and you talk about them
like accidents.

I got this one when she left,
this one when she told me she didn't trust me,
this one when she wasn't there,

as if they were put there by the event,
by some other force you could not control,
but let me remind you,
it is called self harm for a reason.

The people you named them after
did not hold the blade,
these cuts on your arm are not battle wounds,
you are not fighting anyone
but yourself.
Stop blaming them.
Stop blaming the people who love you,
no one is out to get you
but yourself.
All your pain is self inflicted.
Let me say that again.
All your pain is self inflicted.

You are holding a gun to your head,
screaming at me with tears running down your face,
why are you doing this to me?

Put down the gun.

Look in a mirror.

**All your pain is self inflicted.
I'm afraid of you
Because I shouldn't, and then
Because you want me to.
My skin is ******—
John Moffatt, with scorpion chest,
  .  .  .  Reads with a mean wit.
 Apr 2014 Olivia Mercado
r
As water is to cleansing rain
and heat as to burning flame,
so are you to me; the same.
My fiery rain.

Fill the gutter of my mind.
Fire the coal your heart has mined.
Burn me to the end of time.
Your fire does reign.

r ~ 4/1/14
Dark sound raven makes,
Chortles top fir tree, haunting—
Druids incantation.
too much
too late
to sleep
too wide awake
too tight wound
to sleep
too bright tonight
too thirsty
to sleep
too good a book
too cool n wet
to sleep
too full of dinner
too crowded in bed
to sleep
two gulps
two pills
to sleep
 Apr 2014 Olivia Mercado
nivek
Life
 Apr 2014 Olivia Mercado
nivek
wild is blooming
gambling all;
Making love.
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