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Glasses are the international sign for nerd
But also for genius, and if we're to be honest
It all makes sense, the two go hand in hand
Those who read generally have a wider knowledge

But I've been brought up with the thought
That everyone has the same level of intelligence
And I like that idea, because we're all different
And we're all good at different things

Some people are arty, and others are businessy
And I think the world is perfect the way it is
Because everyone is the same, in their own way
With, or without glasses.
Ramblings.
 Mar 2014 Sienna Burroughs
RSV
I touched Your eyes,
in Your sleep.
But
the dream was
beyond my reach...
I can have You, only this much!
 Mar 2014 Sienna Burroughs
kenye
Deleted from existence
     You ended all your processes

The blue screen of death
     depression's screen saver
Old notebook stufffff. Been busy working on my punk rock opera.
 Mar 2014 Sienna Burroughs
Morgan
-
I thought a tattoo gun
and different shades of grey
would make me feel like a painting
I thought a cigarette between my finger tips
would make me feel like a poem
I thought if I sat in enough coffee shops
and read enough news articles
I'd be the kind of person
other people wanted to fall in love with
I thought if I lost
ten pounds and took Polaroids
of myself sipping lemonade
in a bathing suit,
you'd wish you hadn't
cracked me open
and picked me apart
every night for three years
of our lives
but the ink made me feel exposed
and the cigarettes made me feel like
I was standing at a truck stop
and the coffee shops were lonely
and the news articles were boring
and I lost more than weight that summer
and I took more than Polaroids
and I drank more than lemonade
and I cracked myself open
and I picked myself apart
and I forgot what I was doing
in the first place
but I couldn't make it stop
Why do I love you?
How do I know?
A simple "I know why because I just I feel it," would not suffice,
Because the answer you seek must be Poetic Justice.
But yet I'm feeling like Young and The Restless,
Pondering on these questions,
During my private session of meditation.

We're not always on the same page, but overlap each other to give new meanings like Metaphors.
Despite the differences, we come together as our common interest connects our likes like Similes.
As we let our curiosity play on as we find new meaning to this love, no Pun intended.

"The Sneetches" is the perfect allegory about the tolerance of people's differences.
I just thought I should mention this for a pictorial image of how I feel,
Your words paint vivid pictures, I can hear your imagery.
Our love is the strongest form, there is no hyperbole.
You're the Personification of how it feels to smile.
Your Rhetoric persuades me to go that extra mile.
My perseverance perfectly prepares me to pursue every inch of your portrait.

It's that sweet taste of alliteration that describes you in every way.
My love for you is like the wind, it will take you wherever you want to go,
And I'll be there waiting with open arms.
There's no perfect analogy to describe how I feel about you ,
But since life is too deep for words, I won't try to try describe it, I'll just live it with you.
Figuratively speaking, if my heart was a glass of ***** water, I'll pour it out for you,
There's no perfect sign,
at this perfect time,
to use the perfect rhyme,
to express my emotions to you.
Instead I'll show you the hopeless romantic that I am....
By Tien (Tim) Dang, Sidney Conway, and Wilbert Kizermoore

In this poem we use each poem mechanic's definition poetically.
Hello, 2 am.
I've been seeking you again...
searching for a friend
to help me release pain that seems to never end.

Hello, 3 am.
Where do I begin?
Stuck in the same place I've always been
Committing my usual nightly sins.

Hello, 4 am.
Have you been missing me?
I could use your company
to keep me from falling asleep.

Hello, 5 am.*
Thanks for raising your sunny face.
It's been a long night,
but I'm glad I've outrun this chase.
"It's always darkest before the dawn"
I'm trying to remember those words when my nights seems the darkest, and I hope you all try the same.
**
 Mar 2014 Sienna Burroughs
Kari
Teeth ground to dust
Dirt, where it lies
6 feet under    wringing    hands
Ringing knell,    bells burned into
Ears popping vessels out to sea
Storms making waves causing wrecks
Biting nails between teeth
Ground to   dust.
I struggle with a major anxiety disorder. This is what it looks like.
Every single time I think of you
it is never directly of you.

It always is the red potatoes
sprinkled with rosemary.

It is lit cigarettes on fire escapes.

it is record players,
and scrabble matches.

It is the look on the cab driver's face
as I forced you in his cab
when you got too drunk
on the fourth of july.

It is the ride back home,
over the Brooklyn Bridge.

It is Fireworks exploding
into chandeliers of light,
in the distance,
as you're passed out,
and I'm crying
because I miss my mother.
In hindsight this too was beautiful.
I hold my heart when thunder claps,
I hold it when the courier raps
Upon my door—to feel the beat
It often hides—it drums so sweet
And then subsides to tender taps.

My heart is shy when only maps
Can dare expound what hungry gaps
Consume the ground between our feet.
I hold my heart

And tear the envelope that wraps
The lifeblood printed on your scraps
And feed my veins like summer heat
Is supped by rains. Until we meet
At last again when storms collapse,
I hold my heart.
A rondeau.

Song version: http://impaledpeach.bandcamp.com/track/to-feel-it-pound
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