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Riley OKeefe Oct 2013
Rain

It was so cold, We wandered through the woods to seemingly nowhere. Just because. Not even talking, just walking. It was raining, it was a nice feeling. My sweater was soaked, pulling me down. Although my mind felt weightless. My makeup ran down my face into mascara tears. We looked lovely. We walked along the train tracks slipping on the little rocks. Our silly laughter of nothingness ringing in our ears. Over the white sound of the rain came distant screams of a train. We held on to each other oblivious to our chattering teeth and shaking fingers. We waited. Its blue front came around the trees, its lights caught on rain drops one after another. It flew past our faces; a passenger train, the people it held gawked at the children standing in the cold. From inside they watched our faces fly by theirs, and in a second they were gone. We were robbed of our breath, forcing us back. We burst. Everything was wonderful. Our smiles, not for a second slipped from our cold washed faces. We were so content, with everything, everyone. For a moment perhaps we were in love, with life, with being a teenager, with each other. Our eyes wide with amazement.
We laughed.

That was the happiest I’ve ever been
I was in love with everything
Riley OKeefe Oct 2013
I am a picture without a frame,

not hanging on a wall

but my image still remains.

I am matte not glossy,

postcard size for convenience.
You can have me with you,

take me wherever you wanted to.

I am a pretty picture honey,

a picture without a frame
Riley OKeefe Oct 2013
Love as a bird flying free

dying daily to un-cage 
attachment.
Snipping
 cords binding unwinding
 expectations
only hold
 a box of memories,
only
 those moments to sleep more on satin 
sheets in cotton thread.

Im not sure if he loves me

or if I read, a reflection
 in the mind of me
love
 as the bird flying free.


Come what may as 
it leaves the warmth 
of winter awakening 
spring.
Till summer 
speaks from my window 
to the bird thats flying 
free.
Detaching the cords
 uncage my soul, his soul
, our soul.
Upload to cloud 
in memories.
Moments.

Quilted in the silken sky.

Love as a bird flying free.
Riley OKeefe Oct 2013
I haven’t been writing much lately

my muse has gone with a flutter 
and flourish of wings

a post-apocalyptic shell of a writer

left in the dust, feathers falling like 
snow like a mini avalanche

word to the wise: 
don’t get too attached to your muse.
Riley OKeefe Oct 2013
I have been walking

for a very long time,

but it doesn’t matter

how far away I travel

or which path I take
-
every now and then,

I still discover bits of

you in my shoes,

like fine gravel that

I just can’t seem

to shake out.
Riley OKeefe Oct 2013
We're all Forests
We all grow into 
forests one day, 

songbirds in our branches 

and children hopping from
root to root shrieking and 
our toes will still know the earth.

This is certain:

the sun rises, magenta and 
orange at seven oh two
am on the dot and

the gala apples are 
ripe red and round in 
our fists, fingers.

The air we breathe is 
entirely composed of stories 
and it settles around our ankles like

fresh spring mulch
Riley OKeefe Aug 2013
The status quo declares

that fantasy is the realm

of lunatics and children

and not for the likes of

so-called “mature adults"

but I fail to understand

what exactly is desirable

in a lack of imagination.
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