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Julia Sep 2013
there are these days
where I spin like the Earth--
in a scientific destiny,
cosmic mystery--
whirling with some
astronomical cause that is
unbeknownst to me
Julia Aug 2013
post mirrors
everywhere so you
can be sure to see me out in


the open


in the closed   , at any angle
I am observed
      close in your eyes

     you see
I am   e       x   p     o  s    e  d
I have  no
secrets    my doors are

open &    what's to see but
complete & total emptiness?


sleep I'm falling it's
funny how we
fall into the mindless;
sleep ,    love .
we walk through doors    we run
on tracks ,    but we
     f
     a
     L
     l
        into the overwhelming pleasures
             of


vulnerability
Julia Aug 2013
There are some things
about people that are impossible
to forget--
the scent of hair,
an arch of the back,
the piercing power of eyes,
a certain freckle,
a crooked smile,
a subtle gaze,
& a voice that brings
the tide in.
Julia Aug 2013
Three nights in a row, you came to me,
And it still was only Wednesday.
I tried to help you each time--
I sang songs of my heart,
But you demanded
An orchestra.
So I failed,
Of course.
"Thanks."
Julia Jul 2013
If I were not one that was with the night,
Perhaps I would be frightened in the dark.
Fear is merely ruled by what is unknown,
But what if knowing you and all your quirks
Leaves me with an abhorrence for the light?
First actual attempt at blank verse.
Julia Jul 2013
Do you ever think about
what it would be like
if you had died that night?

With bitter words,
I do.

Have you ever thought of
the one less name called
at graduation?

Of all the empty
chairs?

An empty bed,
a disconnected phone number,
a fresh memory,
one less prom ticket,
one less twin,
one more grave.
In my own handwriting.
http://i.imgur.com/6x73lE5.jpg
Julia Jun 2013
I lay face down on the sheets
                           on the pillow
                    t   ng
                      a    led in blankets

breathing in every last bit of euphoria
   injecting it into my bloodstream
watching the insides of my eyelids
             turn
ORANGE
                                                     ­                                          PINK
                                                BLUE

s     ­        l
  w      r      i      g           around
       i            n
                                           until I can once again
feel the heat of your fireplace
  again in my heart
                                                     between my thighs
because
               the scent of you in my bed
is the scent of granted wishes
                     of guilty seduction,
                 reasons why we never leave the porch.

It is the call into the wild

         that sends the beaten, driven out

dreams tip-toeing out from behind

        the trees, the dark bars of reality
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