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Colm Jul 2016
It's down the hallway,
Hovering just above the tile floor.
It's wallowing in the wake of the last man's grown mistake.
Because you cannot see the quiet struggles behind closed doors.
s u r r e a l Jun 2016
For you knew of the girl whose cheeks were so pink, they'd be mistaken for sweet peas.
And whose skin could be misplaced for dogwood.
Tongue as innocent as the boy that cried wolf,
And eyes as golden as yore.

You knew of that girl, count every school day,
Where she walked through the door, head bowed and heart prayed.
'neath those bangs, whose color is as dark as our breaths, and as shiny as false tree,
Whose eyes--exotic--bluer--bluer than a thumbtack and bluebells set out by sea.

Whose eyes are mismatched by plentiful lips--small as the silver spec on my shoe,
And shimmered 'neath sterile light, as if she kissed the face of Mt. Rushmore, too.
With those high lips and V-line chin, which connected with her pencil neck to her petite body,
No ******* or bottom, with legs as thin as stilts and as blinding as our phones,
She holds the body of a cradle, and sings like a tongue-less canary.

Always kempt and proper--her hair tied back with a lovely noose.
And shoes worry not of dirt--for she never played outside.
Resting 'neath maple-wood trees like a bunny--face and knees tucked by arms, and that's where they reside.
Many boys had asked for her hand in play, but that bunny went deeper--deeper into the flesh hole she burrowed.
"Painfully shy, she was." They said.
And that pain was her devil.

For you knew not the cause of those florid, pink, cheeks.
Whose purpose means nothing but dead machines.
Whose eyes rung bright--struck the world alight,
Yet, they themselves could not see.

For you knew of the girl whose cheeks were so pink, they'd be mistaken for vintage bust,
And whose skin could be misplaced for bile.
Whose eyes mistaken for lust,
And face mistaken for tile.

For you knew of the girl whose cheeks were so pink, they'd be mistaken for heat,
And whose skin could be misplaced for bleach.
For again and again and again, the belt beats.
And hello to endless ******.

For if you drew closer and closer--and closer, you see,
Blue waters and purple veins clash--wash again and again 'gainst land--and befit the word: queer.
For if you drew closer and closer--and closer, you see,
Innocence knows no bounds and eyes no longer see flavor,
For if you drew closer and closer--and closer, you see,
Exotic eyes bled--rained--pink--and pink--and pink with grand fervor...!
For sometimes it may frighten you to know,
Not all persons are truly healthy,
even those who you hold truly dear.
JR Falk Jun 2016
I've traced the pillow's edge pretending it was your back for some time now,
acting as if you'd been lying beside me this whole time.
Whether sharing a bed with you is plausible or not is still a mystery to me.
I'd always imagined you to be a very warm person,
and I'd like not to have to get more blankets every night.
Lately, though, I'm beginning to think the opposite.
Maybe the bed being cold and empty
is a proper representation of your presence after all.
Not quite the same as Zayn made it out to be.
12:43am
06/10/2016
I regret to inform you that your lawfully, wedded boyfriend, Robert Cohn, no longer want to be lawful, wedded, or your boyfriend. He'd much rather be ******* Brett and writing books about what she tells him behind closed doors
            Sincerely,
              Jake Barnes
In response to The Sun Also Rises
Arcassin B May 2016
By Arcassin Burnham

I
Would like
To know
The passion of you,
The fire in you,
The freedom to burn freely,
Several things that I would do to get close to you,

(The thing you haven't known by now,
Is that I'm ready to go,
The flower blooms so quick somehow,
Under a blanket of snow,
And if I could take back the things I said,
I swear you gotta know,
Haven't you got a clue my love,
That I love you so)

I
Would like,
To know,
The things that you lack,
That makes you sad,
The signs are so complicated,
Ill never make you feel bad,
I love to make you laugh,

(The thing you haven't known by now,
Is that I'm ready to go,
The flower blooms so quick somehow,
Under a blanket of snow,
And if I could take back the things I said,
I swear you gotta know,
Haven't you got a clue my love,
That I love you so).
http://arcassin.blogspot.com/2016/05/sessions-chapter-3-mep.html
The riddled mind,
Speaks only in twists,
Hoping that way, to conceal,
The truthfully intended wits,

Hiding behind a glass door,
Thinking no one can see,
Only a foolish mind,
Would run from the ones who seek

for you to unleash your heart,
It will be a mistake you wish you made.
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