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when they cover me
White sheet on face
Earth burying box

dance on my grave.

i want every child
at my funeral
to dig their hands
into my soil

take a part of me again
broken so you can live
let me hold you

love me like
The fall
when it comes

i am the roots
you are the leaves
 Oct 2012 Serena Elizabeth
Samuel
That little heart shaped from green?
                         as I am.
         love formed with time and care, growing
     stronger and more vibrant every second,
            
               immortalized
                    there with you.
The cover might be torn.
The pages might be worn.

But never judge a book by its cover.
Never know what you'll discover.

There's so much beyond what's seen.
Just need to respect the poor as well as the queen.

The words might've suffered scorn.
The theme rejected before being born.

But never judge a book by its cover.
There might be a gift for you to discover.

The healthy now the ones mourn.
Disabilities sprouting like corn.

Never, I say I never judge a book by its broken cover.
Because in the fragility hides what you must discover.

Copyright 2011
Met this amazing woman this weekend. She inspired me to write this.
Got a main *****.
And a mistress.
A couple girlfriends.
Child support and back taxes.
The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.

And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the world's tears,
And all the trouble of her laboring ships,
And all the trouble of her myriad years.

And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,
The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,
And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves,
Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.
The guilt I feel
Cannot compare
To the pain I caused,
It's overbearing,
Wearing me down;
I can't go on.
Let me dream
A dreamless sleep,
Let me never wake.
if i were pregnant, i would never wear a shirt so everyone could see
i don't know why i thought of that as i was
talking you to sleep, i thought it and didn't say it and then heard you say, 'i want you always'
so quiet i could hear your eyelashes scraping against my skin
your breath is the forest and i think about when walking and smoking and trying to find new things in the same.
remember the first time we touched each other?
now sometimes i feel guilty for taking up all the happy, especially when you put your lips a half second away from mine and the tiny things mean everything.

— The End —