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walking amidst unknown tongues
seeking familiar souls
until you find home in the garden
not guidance towards a future
for it takes the process of walking back to meet your sunshine
birds singing the mystery of your heart
do not disregard it
listen
it'll be more than alright
"Curiosity didn't **** me"* said the cat,
*"She just introduced me to the wrong crowd"
 Jun 2014 pluie d'été
aj
siren
 Jun 2014 pluie d'été
aj
the ebb and tide of diamond waves slosh in the most serene celerity.
it is then that i know i am safe.

i lie in the ocean's arms,
and become a grain of sand,
until your song is sent my way
and i crystallize.

oh i am a pearl, born from pain.

your timbre plays melodies on my heartstrings, siren.
your beauty shadowboxes with my soul, siren.
i am not yours to keep, siren.
i am the tidecaller and i have a place.

but oh siren, why must you sing when i want to sleep?
why must you sing when i want to weep?
oh, siren, take my soul to keep.

no longer my sea.
sea of sirens, sea of song.
your song always lets me know that i mustn't tag along.
I liked someone a lot when I was in a really safe place in life. Whenever I decide to like someone, I remind myself to give up.
When I travel, I find home.
Home is so strictly defined and constricted
****** in, forced to **** in,
Constrictions put forth by suffocating friends
Where small towns tighten the rope
It has placed around my neck.
I am the dog on the leash that is surrounded
By every tree and every ball in the biggest park
Who is tied to the tree and forgotten
Beaten and told to stay.
We grow up being force fed the idea of thinking small,
Staying small, working small, living small
But this world is too big to live small!
I travel and find the people that I call home
I find the shacks and shanties and weathered souls
And every single person you and I will meet,
Mutual or not,
Knows something that you and I don't know
And if that doesn't spark enough curiosity,
Get out of the house.
There is so much to learn and so much to absorb
And maybe your house is your home
Everyone, at some point, has a home,
Some just travel with you,
Others you have to find.
slam poetry
My skin is a chalkboard yet your nails find their way to resonate sounds through my throat. What was once a clean canvas is now struck by an act of art and crime of pleasure. A chest full of "I love you's"  formed by kisses as rough as barbed wire and bruises carved by means of passion. Black and blue and red and purple, green, yellow; a rainbow of lust. Your hands around my neck is my favorite noose, a chokehold of fingertips I'll never escape the grasp of.
After it is done and we are spent
like cartridges,after we
began,begin,became the firing pin,became,become
again the bullets in the gun,
in and through the blackened chambers run,
we killed the sun and kissed the night,held
it tight to let it know
but it knew well that it could go
and went,after
we were done and spent.
You were my first true love.
& every second we spend together I will fall over again.
Your smile lights up the whole world.
Your blue eyes are as blue as the ocean.
Simply everything about you is just so perfect.
I'm glad I have you back now.
& trust me I'm never letting you go.
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