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smallhands Jul 2016
don't run in the streets, now
you are no longer a child
eighteen years past nineteen ninety six
is what you are
walking a line drawn for that
seemingly eventual someday that is today
don't run, not even in your mind
for if you trip and fall, you'll be left behind

-c.j.
smallhands Jul 2016
the screen reads
private caller
I answer and it is someone real,
not a robot this time
you're surrounded by your friends
I can hear them as you say,
"it's not you, it's me"
I hang up,
a moment of quiet
then all my bells are ringing

-c.j.
smallhands Jul 2016
this poem is not about angels nor demons,
but humans and their faulty stars
how they sleep with a pile of words
on their head,
which gets tossed to the floor when
the alarm clock screams six
how they seek refuge in an arcade,
playing each game to the end,
leaving empty-pocketed
how they think, I can't rest until we
start to kiss
when lips only beg for more upon meeting
so yes, this poem is not about gods nor devils,
but people, breathing, heartbeating people
who sleep and play and wonder
when it will cease

-c.j.
smallhands Jul 2016
this is my rescue song to you
amid the parachute
you float right next to me
I know I'm not the only one
to be blinded by your sun
or burned by your heat
is safety here?
this is my rescue song to you
amid the parachute
you float right next to me

-c.j.
smallhands Jul 2016
hey wolf, precious wolf
you know I love you
I'm sorry you are sad today
but remember, everyone feels that way
sometimes a part of me says to let them in,
these unhappy friends
and there is not a dry eye once I do
I know that everybody's watching me,
but I remember everyone has made mistakes
you are a precious wolf
we will keep reminding each other of these things
that sadness makes us forget

-c.j.
smallhands Jul 2016
passive-aggressive
submissive-combative
the sirens of your toxic spirit encourage
competition that I cannot stand for
so I fall straight back again
my blood hiking up the thermometer
to boiling point

-c.j.
smallhands Jul 2016
bliss is a wrecking force
the kisses are little wars causing our trouble
the metronome seems to say,
"there, there, hear this night song, the dark sky's
crystallised stars have made it for you"
so the music brings peace like it usually does,
surrendering the fight to solace

-c.j.
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