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you don't need to be drinking to reveal a sober thought
the words are there inside you if you're not afraid to talk
We have too little time to be offended by ourselves
so throw away the bottle and forget there was a shelf
Let time be your instructor, it will whittle down with you
and show you something greater in a way you cannot do
I've read the twelve believers and considered all their words
they're either all too certain or completely all absurd
so let us make decisions with a judgement of our own
give wholly unto others we may never even know
The point is we've been fighting for a point we've tried to make
but loaded every message with a fountain of mistakes
Truth.
 Dec 2015 rcmpencil
Murphy
Gorgeous
 Dec 2015 rcmpencil
Murphy
Last night I dreamt
You called me "gorgeous,"
"Gorgeous?" I said, "that's not my name," I said,
As my cherry red tongue dropped my lollipop
Straight on the ground,
***** red sugar slivers gorging on my
Blood vessels pumping into my heart -
A big metal spoon banging on a cast iron skillet.
Skillful, you are with your
Cinnamon heart smile
Burning my taste buds and
Hugging my curves with every -
Gorgeous.

I dreamt of you
Running your finger like a wet paintbrush on my
Obscenely white canvas
Soaking up my stereotypically common insecurities and
Gently placing them in your pocket,
"I'll take those, gorgeous,"
And then you color me with purples and reds,
Red,
Like Red Delicious waiting
For the bite, like my neck,
Waits for your teeth, maybe
I'll just wake up and keep dreaming,

To see you,
Fiddling with a razor in one pocket,
A cloudy crystal in the other,
Mediating the argument of
Who gets to protect you -
Who gets to lick the salt from your cheeks
After backyard creeks race to your lips
The space between our tongues so small,
Yet it weighs on me like
A sixteen hour car trip with your baby cousin,
Torture.
Like blue eyes shaded by glasses,
Hiding behind fallen heads.

I woke up just to remember
That your eyes are the only shapes I draw in the dark.
Begging for sleep to bring me back
To watch you stare at the dirt snuggled into your
Weather cracked boots
Your fingers tugging at the chain that rests on your chest,
Keeping my attention,

On the heavy black coat I'll be wearing 'til
Summer, an extra layer of skin,
Keeping me from gorgeous,
Let me drop it like an old tissue in the cold,
Let me lose it like I've been sick for weeks on you
And I'm shedding my skin like it's time to start new,

There you go,
Wearing your silence like a tuxedo,
**** - always ****,
And you're breathin' fractions of facts in my ear,
Seducing it's drum like a late night jazz club and
It's your first time on stage,
Gorgeous.
Let my stomach politely introduce itself to my throat,
Pleading with my temple to hold on to that bead of sweat that
Reluctantly drips down,
Gorgeous.
Down,
Like the tips of your lashes meeting my bellybutton,
Wet lips tracing my skin with "gorgeous,"
In your black coffee voice,
Gorgeous.
So long is
a long time
coming,
shortly is
just
the same.
 Sep 2015 rcmpencil
Murphy
I haven't written in a while
so maybe I'll try
to appeal
to your eyes
once again.

Maybe not.

It's raining in Prague.
I walked by seven people
with their heads down.

What are they looking at?
Not me. That's for sure.
No one smiles here,
not like you.
With all of your teeth;
warming my blood
and seducing
a small squeal
to emerge
from the depths
of my toes.

Such a girl.

Yes, I am such a girl
on this rainy day.
Where trees look like sagging shoulders,
and the ground an endless cobblestone
with a thin layer of reflection.

I walked alone through the square.
Have you ever noticed
how everything is lonelier
when it rains?
I don't mind.
I sat
under my blue polka dot
umbrella,
(Of course)
and watched the puddles build
as the people all fled
like a flood of their own.
Sea of raincoats,
and little dog raincoats,
scurrying home
to the embrace
of their own you's.

I miss you.
You know that, right?
This rain can't wash
even that away.
I tried to write
under the blue armor
but the rain got to my words
and they were gone.
Stupid rain.

Remember when you
held my hand
and helped me
hop mini rivers
in the middle of the night?

I do.
We were so young.
"**** Umbrellas!"
"Put that **** away!"
You wailed,
with your playful
less damaged
voice.
And I did.
Because you are you,
and I am me,
and I will follow you
until the rain washes
me away.

But I know you'd just swim
after me
anyway.

Or at least I'd
love
to think so.
 Sep 2015 rcmpencil
Murphy
This is my body
I have Redwood skin – thick, fire retardant
It’s especially necessary due to the
Cracked chest cavity I carry underneath my coat, thick
And thankfully so, so I mark my bark with pinches and pulls,
Never changing, never ready for the vacant eyes of strangers
Reading me like last weeks old newspaper,
Just a passage of time, a bleak hobby.

This is my heartbeat,
More like heart pound,
Like a body buried in the burning earth
Pounding against my brittle bones, begging
For the bang of a gun,
To start the race, to end the war
Suffocated by caffeine infused blood that
Doggie paddles through me,
Losing the race against ghosts
Until I’ve
Lost my breath.

— The End —