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 Oct 2018 sickophantic
Martina
it's funny
how the world turns
and people live
and lives change.
it's funny
how I can see you
and you can see me
but I cant know
what you think.
it's funny
how I feel safe
in yor presence
even if you're not there.
She wanted to love her
but didn’t know how.
The static in her head was too loud,
crowded commotion that could crack open her cranium countless times,
but when the clocks count soundless in your mind,
What’s the difference?
The clocks turn carnivorous,
and break down the barriers you bound around them,
destroying your defenses and leaving you defenseless as they detonate the little love you keep for yourself.
Then, there’s nothing left.
Ok but, I love this so much??? And imma kinda be upset if this gets less attention that the ones on my page I don’t like as much
life is like
when you're
a little kid
and you
discover that
there is more
than twenty-four
crayons in the box
that there is
the possibility
of forty-eight colors
of sixty-four
of one-hundred and twenty
that there are
so many shades
of love and anger and peace and despair
and absolute bliss
and the ability
to express them all
are now
in the palm
of your hand

life is
colorful
beautiful
thought-provoking
lovely
soulful
heartbreak­ing
inspiring
and absolutely wonderful

every day is
a new sunrise
a new chance
to transform into
the butterfly you
want to be

go out there
and change the world, kid
 Oct 2018 sickophantic
Her
Immortal
 Oct 2018 sickophantic
Her
the moment a poet
falls in love with you

is the moment
you live

f o r e v e r
She was like music,
and I longed to dance.

Her heart was the beat,
and I begged for the chance.

Her words were the vocals,
and I was put in a trance.

Her smile was the melody,
and I fell in love at first glance.
 Oct 2018 sickophantic
Joanna
Well...first I'd probably pay off all my student loans

And with the rest of the $10, i don't know.....

Chipotle or taco bell maybe?
Originally published here: https://commaful.com/play/pluzoo/if-i-won-millions-in-the-lottery/
if I got a poem out of every message I receive...ha!...I do...

quite a bit upon to chew,
but a request from her,
to please ignore her weirdness,
too juicy to pass unnoticed,
because it goes to the heart of the mad matter

'tis that weirdness that I do so cherish,
fully reflected in my own poem-children,
my multiple identities, that the FBI is yet tracking

give me your weirdness, yearning to be free,
so my poems can be inscribed upon a crown

and daughter adopted dear,
that one crown,
thy name,
thy madness upon it etched,
modified to rest
easy
upon thy temples

<•>
for Ali
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