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 Apr 2013 Samuel
brooke
the words are allpilingupagain
I andi'm not sure he understands
how much talking saved me from
myself but he stopped and now the
words are everywhere, in my chest
and in my hair anddrainingfrom
my fingertips, with no where else
to go and they never leave through
tears, the thing that leaves the most
(c) Brooke Otto
 Apr 2013 Samuel
marina
today i woke up not knowing where i
was or how to get back home,
(or if i would ever feel at home again)
because although i awake in the same
bed every day, this room is unceasingly cold
and i find myself more and more lost in these
sheets that i don't know as my own  anymore.

i had lain there for forever trying to remember
the last time i had felt comforted by sleep-
when the only thing i could find under my pillows
were nightmares about empty skies and
words that got lost in translation, i had to stop
in my tracks and reteach my self how to breathe.

i'm starting to get this awful feeling
that i'm not always going to fall asleep alone
but i'll still wake up terribly lonely.
um...yeah.  lately i've been feeling unsettled.  restless.  
now, now is making things better though.  "i am what you need when you can't find it somewhere else / i am what you want when you don't want anything else"
fjafdkljaf they are so good
 Apr 2013 Samuel
hkr
most of all, i want to listen to your voice. anything you have to say. recite your grocery list, what you ate for breakfast. what’s your opinion on the weather? remind me about how you like the snow, but hate the cold. how you couldn’t fall asleep because the wind kept whistling through your broken window. tell me the story about how you broke that window again. again. again. how you hit that baseball too hard and it went soaring. tell me about that moment. the moment that it looked like that ball was flying. how’d you feel when it crashed? no, don’t tell me about that, i know it’ll make you think of the crash. how i crashed down on the concrete when we were walking that one night. i was barely conscious, so tell me about how you carried me a mile to my apartment. if you have to, tell me about why you left me there alone. how you’d asked me on the walk because we “needed to talk” and you had to do it that night, because she’d given you an ultimatum. don’t tell me about how you’d stayed with me that last month out of pity. or if you do, let those be the softest words you speak. softer than the things you whispered to me months ago. softer than the way you touched my cheek before you left me on that bed. tell me again how touching me made you sick those last few weeks and please assume that i felt the same. because every time i think of the truth, every time i think of how it wasn’t over for me, isn’t over for me...i love you. i can’t breathe. don’t let me speak. don’t let me speak. i only want to listen to the sound of your voice. keep talking. say anything. tell me all about her.
 Apr 2013 Samuel
Lucky Queue
kisses
 Apr 2013 Samuel
Lucky Queue
After some taste tests, I must admit
The differences in your kisses are not subtle
Some were animal and possesive
A sensual and surprising ferocity
Some were soft and fast
As delicious as honey and as sweet
Others were long and powerful
An outpouring of emotion
Still others were light and lovingly
Pressed to cheek or temple or neck
And though I admit they're all so different,
Their qualities bleed into one another
So that of the
Quick and passionate ones
Or light kisses with a touch of wild
All have been received and welcomed
And enjoyed
2.13.13
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