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Martin Narrod Apr 2014
1909, on top of the dragon.
Marigolds whipping a tepid fug in this small room of stringy daylight.
That place where we fell in love. Where I dropped a hot cup of tea on my pants
And we ate sushi on the beach. I love the beach.

I am not ready for the ice festival or your new boyfriend.
He smells like bad disco and old people.
This piano concerto that I play before bed, before awakening,
I have your black dresser drawer in my bedroom,
It glistens of our days of Jasmine and Roses.

My mind blurs stories of you, her, and the other girl.
Rad violin songs, a friend from Argentina has introduced me to
Mystify me, I cannot hear straight or stand still. I have acquired
A gift for shivering. Still I can feel your talons raking up my spine.
*******! Where? Why? How did you do that thing with your mouth?

I count upwards from you and in my peaking hours of misfortune, I
Never come back down to earth's giant centrality of duel existence.
My gut expands into my chest, my nervous system and anxiety is
All of you, a lot of her, and none of the other girl.
I make half inch black markings on the wall, this curse of feeling and not forgetting
That never goes away.
If I was a Princess,
Locked high in a tower, counting that stars in the sky,

Would you be my Brave Knight and rescue me?

If I was a Beautiful Mermaid
And I was captured by pirates, soon to be a prisoner to man forever,

Would you help me plan my escape?

If I was cursed
By the darkest of witches to be a hideous beast for my life,

Would you help me find my cure?

If I was lost and alone,
Surrounded by a shadowed forest and howling creatures,

Would you come and guide me to safety?

If I needed you, where would you be?
Daylight 4U2C Jan 2014
If you give a wishing stone,
she'll travel out all on her own.
She'll  leave behind the fear and pain,
and keep herself from going insane.
While her friends are getting diagnosed,
she'll be somewhere in her boat.
Maybe she'll have tea for two,
but at least she'll know what to do.
And they may ask, and plead, and beg to be in her world,
but she'll certainly say,
"Be gone, be gone, or off with your head."
Which should be said, since they cursed her be dead.
If you give a girl a wishing stone,
she'll truly feel all alone,
and for those who never cared "be gone!"
The queen has finally sang her song.
She was never a fool, just a withered small bud,
and those pigs would throw her around in the mud.
So sure she dreams and dazes off,
but she can do whatever she wants.
She earned a bit of recognition,
for all antagonize and inhibition.
Give that girl some cheer,
she fought a war for all those years.
Stop the hate for her being crushed,
unlike some, she had no love!
The glass shattered hard,
it's no surprised it became shards.
Giving time and yells,
doesn't heal, it kills.
If you give a girl a wishing stone,
you've given her one happiness finally of her own.

— The End —