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I was selfish, when I was a little girl I would never share my graham crackers
because I wanted every sweet crumble in my mouth.
I am selfish because your love is more rare than any gem
but when it's shared with all of them the artists, the worthy
I feel as insignificant as the moonrocks I thought helped me soar through your galaxy
but were actually pure, poison. But no matter how toxic you believe yourself to be
every whisper of the wind reminds me of your melody.

There is a volcano of good inside you, I've seen it bubble and spurt
in your steamy passion for music and fashion, authenticity
is the heat eminating from the lava trapping everyone you meet
in a warmth so intoxicating, you make James Franco as dull as carbon dating
I saw that ****** volcano whenever you met someone new
I walked along its edge hearing the passion playing from your guitar,
strumming with dust, magic like a star

it's taken you trillions of years to get here so when I felt
your violent vibrations as you detoxed in my bed
I thought I'd hold the death of lightyears in my arms.
Like the medicated forever you lived for so long until you forgot
happiness was cleaner than any **** and brighter than any lightshow

But you know this, you knew this you hold libraries of knowledge in
every freckle on your body if I placed each one like a stepping stone
towards a computer I'd create a whole new wikepedia before iOs 8 was done
I'd predict it as predictable as your smile lifts the sun
and if those freckles were questions on a gameshow I already won

I will never know what goes on inside your head or to a comfortable point
but I prefer fluttering butterlies and a **** good joint
to any complacent ride and with you by my side I for once in this life
feel un-alone because being with someone who steps on their own
shards of glass every day because the pain is easier than bending
over to pick up the pieces pushes on the door of my opinion of evil
He could never be evil. He is delicate3 like the crumbling
of sweet graham *******

He is alive like the Happy New Year bellows we unisonly screamed with our
friends and the rest of toads after dancing for hours then dancing for more

You know my struggle, or try to know and that effort means more to me than
the fuel of a pollen to a buzzing bee
Your life, has been as ****** up as that time we almost died in your huge-*** truck
when you were higher than jesus and I went down on you in prayer
that moment, we got struck with inconceivable luck I thought I saw a *** of gold.

Your life, has been like elephants trying to juggle circus tents
if I could give you 22 years of reassurance that you are a beautiful boy
I would.
I'd like to believe you don't even want anyone to, I think you're through
with playing rockstar to a show that you can't even hear the music to

4 months without any substance in your body is an extraordinary
achievement and I am more than proud of you.  You've been a teacher to me.
You've been a prime example of needing someone as much as needing oxygen, or
loathing crawling through your veing towards the very thing that washed away the pain.

If I ever figure out the vernacular I'm not too embarassed to throwup in front of you,
I'd spill every nauseaus word proclaiming my fascination with your determination
to finding love in this life.
My memory is awful, so I exxagerate most, but I'll try to learn your lessons
I'll try to learn how to coast.
martin  Feb 2016
Dog days
martin Feb 2016
Mon  Oneday I'll be top dog
Have the sofa to myself

Tues  Chewsday all the bones belong to me
And to no one else

Wed  Walksday let's go on patrol
Throw some weight around

Thurs  Throwup day, you can clear it up
I'll sit here and frown

Fri  Dieday for the bunnies,
If I'm fast enough

Sat  Catsday, chase them up a tree
Watch them huff and puff

Sun  Funday, all of the above
For the pampered pooch
Who knows he's very loved
KD Miller  Mar 2016
borgia
KD Miller Mar 2016
3/10/2016

"It was rumored that Lucrezia Borgia was in possession of a hollow ring that she used frequently to poison drinks..."

i 'oughta honour my posterity, namesake
i'm just the plainer version of the papess
nightshade? what's that?

i am the bad assassin.
either I let them live too long
or i don't know when to empty the hollow ring into the silver chalice

so i empty into my own.
here i am: lying in a gurney, which holds
my pooled throwup.

it seeped into my soft cloths, my white sheets,
it sought a purpose, removed from a place it held so dearly-
that held it...

i find we are similar
i never once thought of myself as *****
in the past

i smoked a cigarette i picked
up by the side of the highway on a dare.
"oh god, stop!" my friends laughed. "disgusting!"

they didn't know i
inwardly agreed.
i hit the flint.
Grace  Feb 2020
Trapped
Grace Feb 2020
I’m trapped
It’s dark and cold
There’s a few rays of sun seeping through the boarded up window
Dust specks floating through the rays of light
Broken glass on the concrete
Shimmering when light reaches it
It smells of damp, dirt concrete
Along with mold, garbage, and throwup
With every step I take glass crunches under my feet
In the corner water drips from a hole in the ceiling
At night the silence is almost deafening
It tastes of dirt and bitterness
It’s claustrophobic
Hard to breathe
I don’t want to know what’s hidden around the corner
Because inside of me…
It’s dark, and cold
A terrifying place
And I’m trapped inside

— The End —