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picking flower from your beard

                      only in my dreams.

                                      daffodils from your eyes

                         intertwined around your glasses.

                                       I make a bouquet

                                            every night.

                                 hoping maybe in your dreams

                      you're picking flowers off me too.

                       clutched in your hands

                    maybe just one.

please just one...
Wrote this tripping on acid last night. to someone I think about too much.

not sure about the formatting yet but eh.
To a child,
The very definition
Of God
Is a loving mother.

I guess that explains
Why I've never been
A woman of faith.
  Mar 7 ˏˋDalPalˊˎ
I took myself from from city to city
To pursue my dreams as tall as skyscrapers
But with more freedom comes more precaution
And all the safety nets set around couldn’t catch me from the fall

Mom told me to not forget about the top lock of my door at night
Dad said to always tell a friend when I’m heading out
I’ve learned not to ride the subway alone after 5 pm
But I needed someone to tell me that I did the right thing

I navigated my nights through pavements and grids
I found myself in the Upper East side, the streets shifting beneath my feet
Bacardi dictating each of my steps, but making no difference when I danced
I was always told to never trust a back alley, but no one warned me about a dance floor

I stumble my way onto the street, change scattered all over 72nd
I count the pennies like I count sheep, usually I’m out by 30
Hailing a cab, with him right beside me
My head rests on his shoulder along with the thought of good intentions

His apartment had a remarkable view of the skyline, but I can’t look at it the same
The Empire State reminds me of bruises on my thighs and muffled screams
My night faded in and out from flickering kitchen lights and cold linoleum flooring
But the next morning clarity hit
Veiled with excuses
They say the NYPD are the finest in the world
But I sit in this cold, stale building reflecting on the night before
My mascara still smeared and a rip in my tights

“Is this what you were wearing?”
“How much exactly did you have to drink”
“You agreed to go to his apartment though”
“How often do you go home with strangers?”

My throat is tight
Everything I say is taken and twisted
Eyes glaring at me with low-brows
And the smell of burnt coffee
Trust draining out my body as color drains from my face
I’m ripping through the safety nets, one by one

Unable to take their judgemental gaze, I look up at the ceiling
Answering questions
I think to myself, “Was this moment in a cold police station even worth the fight?”
Was this cry for help from one terrible night worth the trauma they’ve caused from doubt
It’s unbelievable that I would have to rationalize which event was worse

I just needed someone to tell me I did the right thing.

I can’t look at them
I still look up and answer questions
That time spent counting each tile on the ceiling until it was over,
when i should have been counting sheep,
hoping I can wake up and this was just a dream,
but I keep counting…

100, 200, 300..
I hope you get the justice you deserve.

Co-written with Dallas @stoopkid .
ˏˋDalPalˊˎ Mar 2016
Am i weakening?
Still tender about you gone.
It's been five months now.

Do i still feel bad?
For not believing at first?
False anger towards you.

We had just talked though.
You couldn't have left so soon.
I don't understand.

The moment i saw
Your still face, it went silent.
All doubt then vanished.

Everybody else
Walked across the bridge at ease.
I never stepped over.

This time, 2AM
I still ask myself the same thing;
Will closure ever come?
this was written around that 4th haiku. I feel like everybody around me has had closure and moved on but I'm still over here, wondering what went wrong and feeling horrible for being mad at first and thinking it was a joke. Not a day goes by where I don't think about you. I miss you so much. I wish you hadn't done it. I wish I could have done something.

for Desma.
Open wide,
you’re a universe I want to explore.
I want to dance through the galaxies in your heart.
Let me swim through to the farthest constellations of your mind
I’d love to burn up in a supernova inside your eyes.
I’d die blissfully beneath your blazing skies.
You burn so bright
I’ll never live to see another dark night.
Is it true?
Could you be mine?
ˏˋDalPalˊˎ Oct 2015
The memory of your touch on the earth will remain
As you glide through the Milkyway
Watching the earth circle the sun
You are part of every sunrise
You are part of every sunset

You're up there
Between the planets
Dancing on the moon
Inhaling stardust
Exhaling love
Lounging on an asteroid,
Tapping the ash off the tip of your cigarette on the galaxy's edge
Memories in constellations
That you twirl between your fingers

Our mission was together
But you decided to leave early
The suspension of your ship caught me off guard
I was too close to the flames
It burned me deeply
But I know the stars were meant for you

You're more infinite than you have ever been
Breathing easy; my fellow space cadet
I know you're okay
My wounds will heal
but the scars will remain.

You always loved my space poem, I thought I'd write one for you.
We were going to go to NASA in Houston together. I'm going to have to make that trip for both of us now.

I love you Desma, please don't be gone.
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