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Sometimes I find love,
where love is not wanting to be found -
How beautiful it is to find treasure in you,
Where you find only dirt.

Exquisite sadness.
A tragedy that only my heart knows how to break for,
Over and over
A swell of boom or bust.

Where X marks the spot,
But x means stop,
Means unknown
Means incorrect
Means keep out.

I wonder if anyone will find the love in me,
If I stop giving out free maps.
"The stars live here"

Maybe if I just wrote "home"
Underneath my skin
I would be more easy to find
When you touch me,
Before you leave.
I took a picture on my phone,
of a man who was in front of me
who smelt of my fathers cologne,
just so that i could see if it was him
and so that you can understand
what it means to be scared
of someone who is supposed to unconditionally love me.
So when i tell you that
i don't believe in love,
don't try to make me see something
i cannot comprehend,
because God is an easier construct
for me to even entertain
than being told i am loved.
She said to me I tasted like a overripe cherry,
I told her she tasted like dust.
I told her she tasted like a storm, an electrical one,
I told her it wasn't good weather for setting off,
But she still smiled and unfurled a sail.
She told me I didn't listen and I sounded like the ocean,
I told her, her words were like a black hole
And I didn't have an airlock,
I told her she was the tears after a hurricane,
And her words were like dead leaves on the ground,
But still she talked like she was the universe.
She told me I loved like i like always letting go,
I told her I'm not a lifeboat,
I told her I'm an anchor that hasn't be winched up,
And I dragged along the murky bottom of her love,
And I was too strong to keep going,
And still she said she loved me when I'm weak.
She said I ****** like it was going out of style,
I told her that this wasn't the trend,
That I was old-fashioned and sonnets cried in bed,
Are worthless as the air they're written on,
I told her that ******* wasn't the problem,
And still she laid there bare and pen in mouth.
I said I am not a conditional type of person,
And she said I'm not a red pen waiting to mark your wrongs,
She said I wasn't good enough to waste the time on,
Trying to put together in her mind,
Because love should be easy.
So I said no, but it shouldn't be this hard.
They say come, as you're stood by the door,
and place you in a rocking chair, when you feel like you're the floor.
Then there is a smile that you've seen somewhere before,
and you know that you're dying,
and you don't know what for

They like to hold your head in their hands
and hold your hands in their grasp, as you try to swim for air.
Then there is a look in their eyes you see as they stare,
and you could drown in a puddle
and you know they don't care

They whisper reassurances as if it could mend your heart,
and open their ears and swallow words as you fall apart.
Then there is a black hole in the  middle of their bed,
and you try to jump and fly away
but you fall down and they take your head.

They say you're not crazy, but whisper you're not sane,
and you're not sure if its dice you throw in this game.
So when they break you into a jigsaw, and you lose another piece,
know they do it for the glory and for the fame,
and they won't hesitate, to do it again
It's like your fingertips,
turned into lips and every sweet caress,
would transfer words of passion
through my skin.
Every time, i felt your spirit pour into me,
it was like i had found a new religion,
and you were my place of worship,
and our hands were the worshippers.
It's ok to watch the stars and wonder,
who they're shooting at,
for how could such a burning wish
fall so silently through the sky
and never land at my front door.
So as i lie here and i know there is time,
and that time will come,
i know that time is fleeting and forthcoming,
with the words you led into my mouth
through sweet rough kisses,
that want to tell me,
that we have all the time in the world.
To think that feelings could take on,
such an amazing allegory of stars,
rushing through my bloodstream,
as you lie with me, in a broken bed,
and i wonder if i should learn from,
my, previous, mistakes -
but stars burn brightly,
and only for such a short time,
so i took your mouth and made it holy,
and held your prophetic words in my throat,
grasped your fingers to count our congregation
who witnessed the sheen of our skin.
Seeing is believing some would say,
faith is taking tongues and carving words into crevices,
that even black holes wouldn't dare,
to challenge.
So take your fingers and draw on my skin,
and make me shine for you,
and we'll speak only words you can understand,
and pour, into me,
a soliloquy,
a mounting crescendo,
of bursting, burning, bright, exploding stars....
I have left a handful of bullets from you,
I have held them dear to my heart,
i treasured them,
as a seashell treasures sand.
I held them in my fingers,
whilst i moved beneath my shadow,
and sharpened my mouth on cut glass mouths,
pretty from dark ***, on a night for scotch,
and let fine tobacco smoke me out from the inside,
whilst hands tried to write their stories on my skin.

I have broken many mirrors of my face,
I broke each, one, of them.
I smashed each piece of silver for each piece,
it couldn't give me in return.
For even a window would have given a prettier view,
i held many a head in my hands looking for some recognition,
many a glazed eye of which i could reflect from,
and paid the blind to paint what they could see,
pulled many hearts apart to see what it, could,
possibly look like to be, me.

I have dreams of what gun you would choose,
if you would bring one,
to this dog fight, of this bed in my room,
where you get to see the tobacco-skinned rags, of me.
For my bullets are only good when they scar the skin,
and something is left behind, to stare at,
for those who want to trace poetry from my heart,
and use their fingertips to paint over bruises,
don't forget to bring the blind with their brushes,
and the silvers of glass to make sure,
i feel myself,
reflecting here,
once you leave.
Press play before reading -*

Take all my ashes,
throw them in the earth,
in the wheat fields, the remnants of cotton fields, the tree roots and the minefields.
Take all my bone and sinew,
sew them in the empty spaces,
in the family hospital rooms, in the deployment barracks, in the wake of a tsunami, and the after burn of an earthquake,
Take all my blood,
seal it into a coursing river,
in to the vacumn of the solitary life, the parents watching bleeping incubators, the last breath on death beds, and the blue refugee bedrooms.
Take all my breath,
and throw it into the tide,
in to those that need words, in those that have lost their fight, in those who no longer care, and those that just can't move.
Take all my heart,
and throw it on the table,
give the muscles to the fleeing children, give the valves to the returned soldiers, give the membrane to families destroyed by poverty, and give the beat only, to my son.
Take all my wild passion,
and throw it in to the air,
in to the cyclists before they fall, in to the pianists arthritic fingers, in to all the first wedding dances, and into the young before they grow old.
Take all my tears,
and fill a bottle up,
fill up those thirsty and dying, fill up the lakes of dying fish, fill up those empty with grieving, and fill up the eyes of those who forgot how to cry.
Take all my love,
and let it just dissipate,
let it find its way, let it filter through the *******, let it wash away the guilt and shame, and let it fill you up.
Read each sentence, each phrase, the few words between commas, and take a breath, let the words, the thoughts, sit in your mind.
Use the music to help you through this
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