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 Jul 2014 kenzo
GC
babe
 Jul 2014 kenzo
GC
my breath smells like whiskey,
my clothes smell like smoke,
you told me i smell like i could use a ride home.

driving, driving.
you passed my road.
no, babe, it's up here, I know where to go.
don't call me that, don't, don't.
where are you going?
then the car slowed.

my parents will call soon,
where is my phone?
you dropped it on the floor, babe, right by your toes.
i can't find it, where is it?
they'll think i'm alone.
you've got me with you, babe, don't fuss,
I'll get you home.

what are you doing?
babe, I’m just stopping for a smoke.
you light your 100s
but i just want to go home.
babe, it's hot, why don't you take off your clothes?
please, please. don't,

don't.

would you put out your cigarette?
i'm going to smell like smoke.
you were smoking all night, babe, I don't like your tone.
why are you unbuckling? can't you just go?
shut up, babe, will you? don't you want to get home?

my pleas, so muted and alone,
screamed at you to stop while i inhaled your cologne.
your body was warm, intentions hard as stone,
you unzipped my shorts,
your hands were ice cold
and sent paralyzing shivers down to my bones.
i wanted you to stop but how could you have known?
you never gave me a chance to tell you
that i just wanted to go home.
I can taste the alcohol on your breath
your clothes are soaked in the fumes of your cigarettes

this is why I called you
tell me you love me.

I love you

you're bleeding
we got in a fight
I'm hurt, I'm drunk and he threw my life far away from me
I can't go back to the party
I cried for help, no one would help me
I ran through the woods, stumbling

this is why I called you.
tell me you love me.

I love you

he bruised me,
then left me sobbing in a field full of nightmares
I'm drunk and I smell of smoke, I don't know where to go

baby,
I have spoons and fire.
let me take your arm,
only if you want it
it's love in a arm *****.

this is why I called you,
you take the pain away
 Jul 2014 kenzo
AM
come home
 Jul 2014 kenzo
AM
I am
so envious
of the cities that
get to
hold you
while I sit here
at home
with empty arms
 Jul 2014 kenzo
mark john junor
but theres so much noise in my head
telling me five different directions to run
real quick fore something catches up with
untangle the mind
to discover the narrow distance
tween whatcha thinking and how it feels
my heads all cloudy cause my hearts caught
in the backwash of somebody else's fearful fall from grace
catch her like a broken angel
only to watch her fly free and clear
while i slug it out in the mud of misunderstanding
just wanna get back to the drawing inside the lines
get back to where it all went according to plan
cause i'm foolish enough to have a plan to go wrong
she swings by my emotional wreckage
trying to lend a hand
guess thats part of the mad scheme
called love
 Jul 2014 kenzo
E
There is a thumping beneath my pillow and it is peculiar that I wish your heart is on the other side.

It is only the dull roar of thunder cracking in the distance and my clarity is breaking because I see the lightening through my crescent window but I cannot see my thoughts spread out across an ink sky.

My notions have been clouded lately and I can't clean substances without knowing their surfaces. Nothing in my mind is behaving coherently and everything is hazy. I am losing expression and finding complication; (this is not entirely baffling because what I feel for you stretches far beyond complexity.)

This madness is a beautiful thing because I now see the simile right before me.You are like lightening: white hot and fleeting, a sight eyes with permeating pupils have the utmost difficulty of absorbing. Instantaneous and electrifying to the touch, a brush of a finger and the senses are fragmented.

I have always been fond of natures illuminations. There is something so awe filling about the unexplainable things in life. Common phenomena, if you will. So understand that whenever I am speechless around you, it has nothing to do with a loss for words or a struggle for sentences. It has everything to do with my want to smear my words across your charcoal horizon; to reach my stained fingerprints towards our white streaked atmosphere and to be scarred by your crackling kiss.

There is a thumping beneath my pillow and it is peculiar that your heart is on the other side.
 Jul 2014 kenzo
echo
what's
more
dangerous...*

talking
to
strangers

or always
to
myself

?
can we really trust either?
 Jul 2014 kenzo
aetherx
metaphors
 Jul 2014 kenzo
aetherx
parched browning book on the highest shelf of a vintage book store
someone would pick it up eventually, drawn to its unique charm.
an uncharted best-seller with layers of dust as its cover art.

ah, the smell of books

isn't it strange that the smell makes you nostalgic, giving you a flashback of a past you've never experienced?



that record playing on the vinyl that everyone nods their heads to,
with wine in their hands
till the same question wanders the whole room;
"what's the title of this jazzy anthem?"



walking in the midst of echoing chirps in the timber land
dead leaves crunch beneath my feet
I paused, considering whether I should perch myself on the Earth in the middle of nowhere
I did so, as the leaves nestled me
I looked around at the ochre and the mahogany of the dead leaves,
laying on the face of the ground, defeated, after a hard life
I let out a sigh and sympathised

Nature was comforting me and I sat there, embracing comfort, feeling it after a long time

Nature was my *soul mate
[an ode to a friend]
 Jul 2014 kenzo
mike dm
thread
 Jul 2014 kenzo
mike dm
observe ----
it hangs
from one single thread --

which in turn
hangs
from a further thread --
itself dangling

from the worn pincers of an old fool
recluse inside his comfy house of laughs
inside a room
where four taciturn gods stand
mute inanimate still solemn blank --

one of which
tilts its wilted head --
and with eyes absent
up inside his thinking thoughts
he sheds warm pools of dark stills --
unspeakable pictures spilled --
onto a being stuck
inside an existence
that has become
fully acknowledged as such

threadbare despair
despairing still  
and still
it remains
the simple bloom tumult
that wills and will
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