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sweatshop jam  Jan 2014
season
sweatshop jam Jan 2014
you came to me in the first dewdrops of spring
with the scent of newleaf lingering on your lips
and the taste of fresh rosebuds and honeysuckle
a mere whisper on my tongue
your kiss the heat of summer sunlight blistering against my skin
and ripping my throat open in a blaze of inferno
heaven knows how you quell the flames
with the same brush of lips against mine
you dance forever in my mind’s eye on dappled autumn leaves
with the swirl of the breeze tousling in your hair
a symphony of red yellow brown and glittering eyes
footsteps going crunch crunch crunch over the carpet of my heart
your goodbye is the wind that whips through my eternal winter
as the snow settles in the silent solstice
i crave crave crave crave the fervent heat once more just once more
REPEAT.
cyclic cyclic cyclic
as i fall in love with you all over again.
(like the mist that rolls in with the first snow that tumbles like waves from the sky/like the budding of the flowers in the garden and the fallen petals beneath your soles/like the gradual melt of ice cream onto sticky fingers and stained flip-flops/like the green fading into a myriad of blossoming colour the facade of beauty disguising slow death)
baby, you break my heart slow
Noah A Baker  Feb 2014
Conundrum
Noah A Baker Feb 2014
Is this what life feels like?
Silent nights, bright red tears strolling by a streetlight?
Fear colored nails
hidden in fists
ready to fight?
What a sight...what a sight indeed.
The smell of decay in newleaf,
Dead souls still dragging their feet
in sync with the star-crossed beat of misery
empty screams echoing through a deserted street of a ghost town
trapped in the masks of crying clowns
forever adding souls to their count...
What will I do when they come for me?
Flee to the taboo tree of visionary ecstasy
Dive into a sea of all seeing entities
Or fight against the horde of everlasting--

It's a sanctuary of temporary forevers and nostalgic promises
A charity snatching what we have to give.
We constantly find ourselves consumed and digested by it
Yet this is our violent addiction to ******
And I'm looking my dealer dead in His sockets asking
Can I live?
eh (revised)

— The End —