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 Jun 2014 Scarlett O
Anonymous
The thing about writers is that they’ll win you over with words
It’s enthralling when somebody writes about how your lips are the collision of soft pastels coming together
And how your hair is a waterfall cascading down a masterpiece
Or how your freckles are as beautiful as constellations in the sky
Or how your eyes demand truth in the slivers of honey
caught in a whirlwind of the ocean in your eyes
Isn’t it intriguing the way a writer captures you in words?
Everybody wishes to be scribbled into journals and etched into the back of somebodies mind
After all “If a writer falls in love with you, you’ll never die”
But nobody likes being in the forced silence a writer presses upon a room
Nobody likes waking up at 3am wondering why their lover is scribbling into a journal with furrowed brows
Most of all nobody wants to be loved by somebody whose pen can speak more clearly than their own lips
Being loved by a writer is endearing, yes…
But nobody actually wants to live forever in some tattered old notebook that just collects dust as years go by
Everyone wants a lover who shows as much passion through actions
As they show in their words-
Most writers can’t offer that,
and I’m afraid that’s why everyone and no one would like to be loved by a writer
 Jun 2014 Scarlett O
Sierra Brown
So Intelligent,
So charming.
       Tell me how you've turned out to be so perfect.
Did your mother raise you right?
       Or did you just grow into the amazing person you are.
I remember the first kiss we shared,
you left me wanting more,
begging for more.

To this day your lips are burned into my memory.
I long for your lips again my Lion King.

Oh sweetie, you're growing older and wiser by the days,
       I'm so proud of you.
I miss you, and to be honest, I need you.
I need your voice, I need your warm, caring hugs.
         Kiss me again Lion King,
One last time.
for you. lion king. <3
As autumn trees all shed their leaves,
I’d like to place them back
One by one, and watch the sun
Who fears the moon’s attack.

He’s chased all day and finds a way
To hide his light at dusk.
‘Til farmers wake he takes a break,
Then flee again, he must.

Time goes fast and seasons pass,
My friends, I wish you luck.
I watch the sky, the moon goes by;
I think she’s catching up.
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