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¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯
do hail
      thine
                  -:- inhalation -:-      
be       
-:- annihilation -:-                
frequently                
-:-      
             and
                      -:- overlook -:-
                         these
                         stony heights
    o’er waters
        swelling
                           earnestly
                                              -:-
    ­                                                and where
                                                    do i
                                 -:- undoubtedly -:-
shorn shy of     
-:- serendipity -:-           
-:-        
 do i
           among thy
           laminae
in   
-:- laminate -:-                  
-:- mahogany -:-                                          
-:-                                                              
this                                                               
-:- pastel -:-                                                     
mem’ry                                
stain amidst                                      
the tainted                                          
once a                              
daunting lee        
   -:-
           thine
-:- airy -:-  
brethren            
shook the limb            
dispersing
sap all            
on the sea              
-:-          
           and then
                       love’s leaf the
                                            moribund
                                                  descendent
                                    of
                              -:- adumbral -:-
              thee
   -:-
-:-

-:-
-:-
-:- see -:-
-:- tumble -:-
-:- t’ward -:-
-:- the -:-
-:-      -:-          ***’bling          -:-      -:-
-:-    ­                  -:- one  ,  the -:-                           -:-
-:-      -:-      -:- mummer -:-      -:-      -:-
of
-:- the -:-
-:- bumble -:-
-:- bee -:-
-:-       -:-


∘ ⊱‧⌍  ⌈✞⌋  ⌌‧⊰ ∞
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋
Liam C Calhoun Jun 2015
She held a red rose
Atop her breast,
Skin and path towards
Motherhood; desires,
Nearly hidden,
But a tempt, attempt,
Shrouded in satin.

Contrary to nature,
I left and let be,
The rose,
But not so subtle skin
So that she could dream
And dream for the both of,
“Us.”

As I’m tired,
So very tired,
Ever present atop an
Even all-knowing that –
There’ll come a time when
My wings tire
And this flight may cease.

She’ll either hold me
Or walk away
And so I wait;
Betting once more on empty,
Once more on, “away,”
And yet another
Suicide without ever dying.
* "DESTRUCT 000, DESTRUCT 0" - Which would be a great name for a poem.
Christina C May 2015
forgetting the traces of who i knew you to be and scraping off the dried blood
along my legs
and my wrists and picking the scabs of almost healed wounds
from when you slid your precious knife of prose across my skin
which carved our initials inside of a heart but skin doesn't last like bark does
and when we carved our poem into the concrete it dried only over my name
and our love is forever carved
into the sidewalk
along my hands.
Dianne May 2015
Blow out the last smoke
Your heel on the cigarette,
Crush it; take a swig
Squeezing lemons on pearly white teeth
One more for brokenness, another for the road;
Lights. Lights. Lights.
–how is a place so blindingly bright
remain so dark, so void, out of life?

We traded this life from another
And traded those from another, too.
Gypsies. Indies. Crazies. Hipsters.
All of them, labels.
We (You) are far better.

There’s something ugly in whispers.
Oh but not those from you.
Not from you.
The line between escape and reality
Is just a line, really.
Come over. Here?
Come closer. There?
Yes, please.

We are nothing but fitting hands, loose shirts,
summer evening sweats, blisters
chain smokes, vivid lights,
My eyes never leaving the sight of your smile.

Come closer. More. Nearer.
Be in my blood. Cover my skin.
Run through the inhale and exhale of my lungs.
This never ending thing going?
God****, it’s enough.
Katherine D May 2015
If
I lay back at night
I wonder what it would be like
If I heard what others heard
saw what they saw

If at night mother really cooked
and brothers weren't hooked
where hugs and kisses
were real

If dad didn't have to run
and could stay for the fun
where lights were on
and food wasn't gone

If  with child mother stayed
and dreams didn't fade
where children stayed children
for the rest of their days

The moment ends
as quickly as it begins
for the baby calls out
to my sister I must tend

~K.D
Sara Jones May 2015
She wanted to know
Just why he kept leaving her
My first 10 word poem.
Little Azaleah May 2015
I wonder
what crossed
your mind
when we
broke up?

- {E.I}
MysteryBear May 2015
I’ve been staring at this puzzle piece
Its missing a piece
Or two or three,
Its a hand-me-down.
Why did my mother think it could satisfy me?
Passed from child to child,
Charity to Charity
It’s broken and bent
Its missing
Dad you’re missing
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