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 Jan 2016 pralay patra
Gary
Death isn't where we lay
Yet, is where we are born
As I lay in silence
Breaking  the silence
You heard, in your mind
One to many times
Silently our memory screams
Never to be heard,
until it is too late
Until,
the echo from all the silence
Screams so loud
that our ears bleed
Until the echo of that silence
Is heard,
Until,
it is free
Until,
it breaks the chains of silence
Until,
its soul breaks free
Until...
 Jan 2016 pralay patra
lmvm
One.** When you see her for the first time, you'll want to steal a glance at her, but you can't beat her at her own game. She's been a professional heart jacker since the seventh grade, so when she steals a glance from you, don't ever expect to find the composer she robs from your voice.

Two. You'll never need to go to a corner store again. Her purse is a walking pharmacy full of all the things nobody needs more than once in their lifetime. She says that she has stolen so much useless ****, that to her there is no difference between losing everything and losing nothing.

Three. When she stays over for the first time and you're cuddling in bed, cling to the covers for dear life, cause she will yank that **** away from you the second you fall asleep.

Four. Don't get too attached to any of your hoodies. Everything she snatches, she owns indefinitely. Whether it's the hoodie from H&M;, the candle stick from your parents' house, or the guitar she borrowed from the last boy she broke into.

Five. You're best of trying to blur the lines between theft, and sacrifice. So, give her your time when she wants it. Offer her your tongue when her skin is hungry. Give up your sleep, when she rather give you tongue lashings. Give her your Sundays and Mondays, maybe even you Mondays through Sundays. Let her cradle your world in her palms until it is small enough to run away with.

Six. When you stop keeping an eye on your grades, don't be surprised when they go missing.

Seven. When your mother ask why you don't write anymore. Tell her you can't think about poetry when your partner has the keys to your inspiration. Don't worry, she borrowed them a year ago. And you haven't seen them since.

Eight. She will pick pocket your self-esteem. Send you from fearless to feeble the second you leave your secrets on the table.

Nine. I wonder if she's the reason airports ask there passengers not to leave baggage unattended.

Ten. You are baggage she will leave unattended.

Eleven Your skin won't look thicker when it heals.

Twelve. Don't bother retracing your steps to try to find yourself. I promise, there's no point in searching for yourself in a break up, or a break down, or an orange bottle.

Thirteen. I'm starting to realize that love is the most sinister kind of robbery there is. Love is a slow motion stick up you can not get insurance against. Worst part about dating a thief is realizing that after they clean you out., you will never get yourself back.

Fourteen. One day she emerged from 7/11 concealing a bag of erasers, a sponge, and 12 packs of Splenda.
I ask her, "how do you even choose what to steal?".
She said when you're not sure what to take, just take everything.
tucker bryant
The surface ripples
and the world is distorted

Keep splashing
and distortion is all you see.
Lust is a strange thing,
That can turn you from
Predator, to prey,
Can make you pray
To a God you know doesn't exist
And beg and beg and **beg.
This is a power play, beautiful boy, and I'm starting to think I'm losing.
IN a jeweler's shop I saw a man beating
out thin sheets of gold. I heard a woman
laugh many years ago.
  
Under a peach tree I saw petals scattered
.. torn strips of a bride's dress. I heard
a woman laugh many years ago.
let me tell you now just how i saw you:
you wooed the world with your sublime figure
accentuated by that supreme  walk of art in life
that became you so well in love without strife
i saw and felt the beauty reposed in you
but how futile and hapless now
this belated lyric to you
you must have come from a constellation of stars
your name should have been stella or estelle
queen of the skies who made earth her chosen abode
and walked upon it like a storybook queen
you spoke like a fabulous heartthrob
and had us transfixed like pilgrims in worship
your enigmatic gaze was magnetic
wafting but unseen incense oozed from your nostrils
as milk and honey danced upon your lips
later to nourish my thoughts and limbs
in the solitude of early evening as venus began to rise
in truth you were a goddess on sabbatical
and your fabled home is in the cosmic mists of time
where i hunger to be a devoted acolyte in your service
forever chanting the treasured words: it is well
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