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Skye Applebome Oct 2014
Have you ever wished upon a leaf?
Never ending, never breathing
Never stopping, never ceasing
Whistles and whispers
Red leaves are picked up off the road
The cracked, riveted, chipped road
Made of asphalt and ice
Wiry and spindly
The leaf soars through the air,
Joined by sunset orange and
sunrise yellow counterparts..
Have you ever wished upon a leaf?
Leaf piles bigger than bushes and mounds
Causing laughter abound and high spirits
Getting everywhere, getting damp
Rains pouring with a melancholy force
Petrichor rising from the ground
Filling every orifice with the smell
Have you ever wished upon a leaf?
A last wish, a final wish
Of love, of hope
Of happiness, of success
A meaningful wish, a last-ditch wish
That maybe, in the end, everything
will be okay?
Wrote this last night by request of a friend.
Skye Applebome Oct 2014
Fiery Reds dimming to a glimmering glow in the sky
Clouds stifling their cries with a light rain only slightly quenching the agony the fire left in them
They burn in the moonlight
Jagged scars on the moon giving it a sinister smile,
Invisible to those who see with their eyes
Bright as day to those who know how to look
Causing the shiver down your spine when you're alone at night
The feeling of breath on your neck when nobody is apparently there
The unrelenting fear persisting through the most spectacular of times and the most devastating of events
The loneliness seeps through my eyes
My ears
My nose
My mouth
It's everywhere
Eating me inside and out, destroying all that's left
*Where is the end?
Skye Applebome Jul 2014
I remember a time when I looked at you and the chocolate brown black holes
of your eyes drew me in,
When I wished to dance among the stars in your brain, tracing constellations
from your neural pathways.
A time when the attraction of your beautifully imperfect face was more powerful than
the most powerful intermolecular forces,
and there was nothing I wanted more than to prove that it isn't ionic bonds that are the strongest, but love.
With you.

Now, there are no stars performing their fiery routine in the depths of your eyes,
no gravity to **** me in past the point of no return, as I used to be.
Empty space is all that remains of the intergalactic event that occurred in my mind.
What happened?

I remember the darkest corners of my universe being filled with temperatures and light in immeasurable quantities,
When I loved you.
When the wires in my brain were shot from the sheer energy of this force.

Now, having been reconstructed, no such forces pass.
My universe is once dark again. Speckled with lights of reason and logic.

As it should be.

I don't know what happened.

But, it's...

Skye Applebome Jul 2014
Sunrise rays peek over the horizon
Illuminating the red-speckled landscape
Swaying in wind, flowing as the sea
Lovely, and symbolic.
The red rose stands out among the tulips and weeds.

Sunrise rays peek into the window,
Illuminating the bedroom in disarray.
The woman wakes up, half in her dream.
She dresses herself up, and leaves for work.
Her red dress stands out among the suits and coats.

Sunrise rays peek into the cave
Illuminating the dusty, smoggy rock
Sparkling and gleaming,
A diamond against coal.
The red jewel stands out among the shale and limestone.
Individuality is important.
Skye Applebome Jun 2014
Anger at myself, rising to the surface
This is all too familiar
The usual urge to hurt and fight
directed inwards.
I expressed this in a very bad way.
I ruin everything, I'm so dumb.
I've probably lost a friendship
due to my utterly pathetic weakness.
*Can I do anything right?
I done goofed.  Big time. As usual.
Skye Applebome Jun 2014
What you don't know kills me,
And it's far too late to say.
My feelings are a stupid thing,
They've always been that way.

Holding back tears is always hard,
Especially in front of you.
Looking into your eyes I see stars,
But with you, I always do.

Today I had to say goodbye,
I've never been good at it.
No matter how hard I try,
I'll always cry a bit.

I shouldn't miss you as much as I do,
Even though my departure is nigh.
But if our friendship is good and true,
I needn't worry-why should I?
I know it's bad, but all my poems will be bad until I get used to writing again.
  Jun 2014 Skye Applebome
Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
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