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she is in the full length mirror
in a long white dress
tossing her hair
and she says aloud
that she doesn't like it at all
i laugh and go take her in my arms
and we start to sway
looking eachothers eyes and feeling the warmth
of our embrace
i am intoxicated in her perfume
and in the scents of her eye
wander the mysterious paths of a woman's heart
and caress the soft textures of her romantic soul
she laughs that we are gonna be late
we are going to be out on the ballroom floor
in the spinning lights and smokey air
slow dancing in eachothers arms
soft touching eachother in every way
swaying to the songs we arnt even listening to
we only see eachother
the rest of the world is some long lost summer night long ago
far away from this ballroom floor
far away from us
she leads me off the dancefloor
and our to the cool evening air
and we make out in the back of the car
like we were once again teenagers on a school night again
enjoying the caress and loving the taste feel
the knowin
we make love
grand slow and glowing warm love
and then the world slows
and picks us up again
we break into giggles
as we go on home
sneaking into our own house
like we were a couple of kids all over again
she has re-discovered the young man in me
for the dew eyed girl in her
and she has rekindled the happy for ever after
the lets just kick off our shoes and run in the waves
the light in her eyes
is enough for me
((we went ballroom dancing again...always ends up an adventure with us))
 Dec 2013 Selena Brianna
Zachary
We have all loved skeletons at one point- maybe as lovers, a person with benefits, or a friend. Skeletons that looked just like us; zombies walking the same path, no longer caring for their way. Pieces of a soul that were so shattered no amount of band aids and peroxide could heal it

Your expressions that entranced not just I, but many past lovers. Ones that are not intended for me, but if I try hard enough, I imagine they are so

Your hands were delicately carved work, and your bones, your bones, the finely formed structure of intricate words, whispered in the dead of night to the crook of your neck

You overtook my thoughts; shadowed me in my sleep, molding my dreams to nightmares. All I can think is “would they like this?” or “that?”. You are a dictator with an iron fist on my heart of weathered steel. You are the reason I write; why I wrote until the crack of dawn when no other soul was awake except for the lonely and the in love

My nightmares and reality merge into one, until I do not know which is which, but I do know that wherever you are, I am searching for you in the deepest corners of my mind to find lost memories, waiting to create new ones

And I know that, despite our differences, you are buried deep into my skin, a fragrance that I cannot wash away with tomato juice no matter how much I match the sticky substance

The one beautiful thing I have not gotten bored of; the one person I have not walked away from. When you have an obsessive personality, which quickly turns to boredom, it is hard to find that one person who keeps you from that

You are the one beautiful thing I never regretted latching on to

But the minute I saw you, I knew I would not do the same, no matter how much I would want to. The second I saw you, I knew I wanted to be the one who was the first to see your face each morning, and the last at night. I knew I wanted to be the one to kiss your wrinkles between your brows away, to wipe your salted tears off your cheeks and wash them from your pillows; I knew that if I were to meet your family, I would say “Thank you for him. Thank you for this great person who not only brings light to my world, but is a sun to many others.”

I knew that despite all that, you would never be mine. For you see, you are a star, a planet bigger then the solar system that contains your tiny toy of a body, and I was simply orbiting you, pulling farther away with each passing day

You wield a weapon, dangling from your fingertips that no one sees, but you can feel inwardly, pushing deeper and deeper until it is so embedded I no longer feel it. You morph me between your nails like the water cuts through rocks and forms them into sand, leaving nothing but the past remains of centuries of wear and tear and pushing and pulling and-

You control every turn I take- “Do not walk out in front of that car” and “Do not push yourself so far down you cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel”

You are the reason I wake up each day, and vow to myself to survive, for if I survive today, one day I will live

I count the days until I will tell you; fearing each day that you will find someone who could love you better then I, a person who is not a whirlwind of emotions and hair and everything negative in the world but is beautiful and a doll and will become the grass on your core, melting the molten rock and oozing out on late nights when no one is home and not a soul is awake

And I cannot sleep knowing there will be someone who will love you better than I; cannot breath knowing there will be the doomsday of my heart, when it falls to pieces and is crushed like marrow with the same nails that molded me to be something I was not; cannot stay in one place as long as I know I have one in a million chance of winning you, a piece in the lottery that is greater then the reward; cannot scream for my lungs have given out, my throat has dried out and there are no more tears left to spill for a man who does not look at me twice

You are the first beautiful thing I have latched on to, and you will not be the last I will let go of
Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu.
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of naught
Save where you are, how happy you make those.
    So true a fool is love that in your will,
    Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.
 Dec 2013 Selena Brianna
JC Lucas
I am riding through the old-time suburbs.
The city of salt pillars
I pass a bike or three
A jeep
A van with a six-inch lift and chipped orange paint
I round a corner
And suddenly all is quiet
Except for the squeaking of my old bicycle chain.
And I ex-
Hale

If you were here you would ask me why I sighed
And I would reply
"It's not a sigh, I just forgot to breathe"

I just forgot to breathe.

And I'm breathing now
My shoulders are at ease
And my bike is squeaking.
I wonder how often pockets of silence bubble up in the city
For a moment-
In this one spot-
It is still-
And then a car drives by and we resume.
I found myself in a pocket of silence in the center of a beehive this afternoon
And I sighed
Because the silence made me realize that I was holding my breath
So I exhaled
And relaxed

And then a car drove by
And we resumed.
I’ve whittled shelves into my body to try and bring an

order to things. All it did was make space.

So many shelves like staircases built in anger.

Winding forcefully

until they end right where I stand.


2. There are days I wash my face with vinegar

and soak my fists in horse *****. I use it to

conceal the musty smell of forgotten Bibles.


3. It’s while God is in my novels,

that I see my bedroom floor.

A junkyard of loose-leaf prayers,

my boots go out of their way to step on

dry crunchy ones.

I can hear the breaking, and it’s satisfying.

The acrid smell of fall

in my mouth,

I bite my lip just to feel the sting.


4. The phantom pain in my chest tastes like cotton

stuck to my teeth.


5. I am Leonid Rogozov in Antarctica, I’ve built my

staircase-shelves by cutting into myself,

only local-numbness needed.


6. No, my shelves are not staircases.

Shelves never extend forward. Just, upward.

A little too much like trees,

not permanent enough in the ground.


7. It all reduces to sawdust anyway, collected

on the bedroom floor.

I’ve been sweeping it up for 40 days now,

each day, a little more.

One day, the floor will be clean.


8. You say, “You are made of blessings.” I say, “No, I’m made of blood

and skeleton bones.”


9. I love You. You say you love me.

Some days, that’s enough.


10. Today, Just yellow-

brown pages and

nothing resembling gospels.


11. I wasn’t born, I just walked in

one quiet evening and started living


12. After every shelf I whittle I still ask,

What is numbered in my life?


13. Things will change, things will change.

Things will change.


14. I have layers and layers of papier-mâché skins you can thumb

through like pages.

You’ve peeled them away,

each becoming more raw and permanent.

The cleanliness worries me.


15. There are 17 different kinds of fractures:

non-displaced, complete, oblique, transverse, comminuted, greenstick,

simple, linear, incomplete, compound, compacted, avulsion,

compression, stress, impacted, displaced, spiral and fatigue.

Believing in You makes me tired.


16. ‘Post mortem nihil, ipsaque mors nihil’

Death built its own shelves

After My body was felled.


17. When it’s you resting on my tree-shelves,

I begin to see an end.

Books are the most efficient weapons in the world.
I need a boy who will build up my confidence, when I go  on about random ****, it all makes sense.
When I explain my insecurities, he will understand and hold my hand, not thinking i'm fishing for compliments while sitting on the sand.
He gets my personality and my outlook on life, he doesn't speak behind my back, take it and stab it with a knife.
I want a boy thats not perfect, just an average human being. Someone who's not the best at everything but he does, get me.
 Dec 2013 Selena Brianna
Mike
It's a blessing and a shame
A title with no name
I really wasn't trying to play
And I really wasn't trying to stay.

We got more serious than I really thought we would
We talked every night, more than we really should
It made us feel like adolescents
Even when all these obstacles were present
Grew fat on conversations all the way from texas
And now I don't reply, your inbox's anorexic

Don't shed one more tear and let go of your fears
Enjoy every second, they quickly disappear
There's so much more to fulfill you with enjoyment
Life is so much sweeter, when you enjoy your every moment
I'm sorry that I hurt you, i can see you grieving
And there's nothing I can do, I just hope that you believe it  
Only thing I can do, is advice you to move forward.
I'll forever cherish the thought of you, I'm sorry this is over...
I see my resolve like wax to fire.

I will be the phoenix from the ash.
I will not grant them my laboured breath in anxiety,
only pleasure.
You may have bruises, but only on my skin.
I smack
I choke.

Keep your hands off my heart.

Although I know that I would wear it like a black eye, shining, if only I had the belief.
Give me a something to chainmail my smile.
Only arrows can get in.
And only those with the intention to aim true
 Dec 2013 Selena Brianna
Jay
I never noticed
all of my friends leaving
until the door had already shut.

If misery loves company,
then why am I so alone?

I've always known
how lonely I feel,
but I've never known
how lonely I can be.
When her lips separate
from mine for the last time
and the last thing that we ever share
is an argument.
Crap work.
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