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Your blood is the same as his, but the skin
on your cheeks could never compare. The dirt
underneath your fingernails will always be cleaner
than the dirt underneath his, but the rain moaning
outside of my window will always remind me of him.
“I didn’t feel anything, I mean, did you?”
will always hurt more than
“We have to let go of each other.”
My lips trembled and managed to whimper,
“Well, yeah,” as my ribcage exhaled a foggy disdain onto my own ghost.
Sitting on cement and a pillow, sitting on my tongue,
sitting on broken leaves and autumn rain,
sitting on a curved backbone that I thought no man could ever love,
I waited to go home.
I waited for you to love me.
I waited for an eyelash.
I waited for months with wind in my veins and blood in my lungs
for a fortune cookie to read my mind and teach me how to say ”love”
in Chinese.
Then you left, and I stayed, and ecstasy stuffed his tongue down my throat
for a month that felt like a year.
I sat in your home when you weren’t there, I sat on summer rainstorms, and I sat
on a broken backbone, waiting for you to love me.
they say to never apologize for the quality of your work, but this deserves an apology.
I.
The moons of every planet
seem to live on your face
like they don’t know that your skin
isn't the Milky Way galaxy;
spiraling light-years
of 400 billion stars.
Devoid of oxygen.
But your skin is the Milky Way–
where the space between stars is filled
with the interstellar medium
of your cheeks.
And the nebulae themselves
have been pulled out of your lungs.

II.
It’s the nighttime,
dripping from your eyelashes,
and it’s the sunlight learning
the curves of your face
again and again.
It’s the myriad of planets
that have yet to be discovered.

III.
They call beauty spots “lunares”
and I call you my moon.
But every morning,
you are still there
as the sun rises.
And you are still there
as it falls.
revision of an earlier post but still a draft, I think.
I was stirred awake by a sound so familiar
A cry barely audible through closed doors
Gently I removed her head from its home
Nestled close upon my chest
As not to disturb an angel from her slumber,
The rest a mother so dearly deserves
I rose to my feet, a guardian to those I love
Feeling as I always have before, a need to protect them
With subtle steps I crept over to the room adjacent
Expecting to find only a child, teary eyed and alone
The cries were louder now, but the bed empty
A fear rose over me, for the boy’s only two
Franticly I searched through the closet and clutter
My heart beat quickly against my chest
I lifted the mattress, greeted at last by bright blue eyes
My hands wrapped around tiny wrists
Pulled him free from his hiding
Picked him up with relief like none I’d felt before
Held him tight in my tattooed arms
And he rested his head upon my shoulder
But the tears still they streamed
I could feel their cold trails
As they rolled down my bare back
I rocked him the way she had so many times before
Promised him everything would be alright
He clung fast to me, I could sense he’d found safety
And soon the tears ceased to flow
While his mother was sleeping I was proud of myself
Taking care of my family, everything just felt so right
As I basked in the moment and whispered to him
Suddenly, slowly, he lifted up his little head
Turned toward the door and then he said, “Mommy”
And surely enough through the crack she was there
Watching her man with her boy in his care
I could see in her eyes that she’d found all she’s wanted
In those few short minutes, in that little room
She had seen all the wonder that I had felt
If reality is far better than you can imagine
There’s no need for sleep when real dreams can happen
 Dec 2014 Samantha Marie
Angeline
Recently, I often find myself feeling small
I know “small” isn't a legitimate emotion but when you live in a city of 825,863 people
And attend a university of 30,500 other kids
Who stumble and still manage to fake the answers to
Why why why
Where where where
How why where when when when
When your best friend lets The City change her into a stranger in a skin-tight dress at a club
And your boyfriend throws excuses like rocks at your naked body
And your closest friends are these words running across the page
Faster and faster and faster until these letters bleed and run and you don’t know what they mean anymore,
You start to feel small too.
Shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and shrinking and constantly shrinking
Until you are the tiniest dot on a map in their hearts and flushed through their veins and spat out like a bad taste in their throats.
sos.
 Aug 2014 Samantha Marie
Angeline
I wish you would love yourself
Because when you treat him like the universe and he treats you as a single star in his bright galaxy,
You will have nothing except him and bitterness
And questions full of “why”s and answers full of “you deserve better”s

You are not a piece of trash
You are human
You are love and empathy and generosity
You have a heart too full for some people to handle and that’s not a bad thing
You deserve to be happy

When its 2am and you are half asleep with the telephone tucked under your pillow, waiting for his call
Do not make excuses
Not for him, not for yourself
Because you are not worthless
You are not annoying
You are not senseless
You are not self-pitying
You deserve to preserve your overflowing heart
Without having to build concrete walls
To see who will care enough to come with the sledgehammer
You are the rain and sunshine above your own head
And the dirt beneath your bare feet
"You are the universe experiencing itself"
So please love yourself
Take care of yourself
Write your own novels
About carelessly falling in love with the Manila skyline
With words that shake your soul
Press your ear against the grass and the earth
And listen to Nature's heartbeat
You are not trash
You are alive
You are beautiful
Sequel to "Dirt"
 Aug 2014 Samantha Marie
Angeline
Your breath was so warm on my skin and
I am a *******
Because I miss you too much
I’m an addict for your kisses and ask you if these are what cigarette withdrawals feel like
And I know you're not about that
Sappy love poem ****
Or writing about the girl you love now
Because I am a piece of trash
Who loves you too much
I wonder if you can feel the desperation
On my lips when we kiss
Or when I hold your hand a little tighter
Because you are the universe to me
And I can't let you go
I’m terrified because you can make me feel like the sun in the sky
Or the dust under your feet
Other boys are dull and starless
But you are a lightning storm
Setting me ablaze with fire and passion
And I’m so pathetic because
I cry too much at 4am when I spill my insecurities to you
And I write too much sad poetry when you're away

So I'll read your novels about carelessly falling in love with other girls
Or wordlessly listen to your stories about dating models and your almost relationships with girls who collect men like earrings
And I wonder if you can hear my heart break when you rest your head against my chest
Because I am a piece of trash
Map
You are a map
That I want to spend hours studying
Drawing x after x
On each part I want to explore
Freckles as a path
I will trace every route from my fingertips
Every ridge
Every curve
Every hill
Leading to your lips
You are a treasure
That I want to devote my life to uncovering
Bury myself in your neck
Travel my way into to your heart
I will call you my shelter
Vowing loyalty
To protection
You will always be the road
That will lead me home
You are a map
That I want to frame above my bed
Stare up every night
At you
My sky
You are the constellation
That will remind me
Where I am
And where I belong
I know that
I belong
In your arms.
If you ask me to describe him,
where will I start?
I can’t possibly fathom my thoughts into words
and turn him into a description of art.

But I can try my best,
try to pick him apart.
Describe him in words,
perhaps in four different parts.

I’d start with volcanoes
for he’s just like one.
Where his touch feels like lava,
but surprisingly calm.

Up next are earthquakes,
since his heart is one.
It makes the world shake
causing me to run.

Third would be hurricanes,
since his mind is one.
He’s a drug I should abstain,
that makes me come undone.  

Last would be forests,
since he’s full of secrets.
Hiding and waiting,
to be uncovered by none.

He’s a mystery,
yet someone I trust.
He is impossible to describe,
and rarer than pixie dust.
Original poem by Sam Barnes.

Someone recently asked me to describe my boyfriend, and I came up with this.
Broken conversations,
empty lungs,
doors half open,
hearts almost out of love.

We used to talk of how
we used to be infinite.
But now every second now feels
like a stroke against an unforgiving current.

Our conversations broke
as the flaws of our souls
fell through the cracks of this glass foundation.

These upset words that escaped you
left the air around me a little sad,
a little awake,
and with a lot of echoes.

My lungs went empty
talking you down.

I left the door open for you.
So you can walk in
and slip in quietly-
I won't say a word.

And this heart could never go empty,
not mine.
Yours,
at this point,
I know not.

Flowers never lost their color
as long as you walked this earth.
Only fools rush in
But I don't believe
I don't believe
I could still fall in love with you 

I will love you till I die
And I will love you all the time
So please put your sweet hand in mine
And float in space and drift in time

All the time until I die
We'll float in space, just you and I

All I want in life's
a little bit of love to take the pain away.
                

This song is beautiful and it plays in my head.

It makes me happy.
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