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We are perfectly imperfect
Delightfully wrong
Dysfunctional relationship
Yet it is where I belong

I am the angel on your shoulder
You are the demon on mine
Taste sweeter than ambrosia
Burn stomach like strychnine

You affect my vision
Around you I can't see clear
In your absence aware of illusions
But rendered blind the moment you're near

Your charming wickedness
And my naivete
Balance out our scales
With equal harmony

Love me in shades of grey and black
And I'll bring color to your universe
This cloak of loyalty I wear
Is both a blessing and a curse

You tell me what I want to hear
I say what is true
Sometimes I long to be free of the worry
But too much is at stake to lose
Couldn't. Come up with a better ending so there you have it rotfl
Living life with no regrets,
Isnt about not regretting what you do
Its about striving not to do anything regretful
But that doesnt mean being perfect either
Laokos Mar 5
i'll raise an electric fence around
the gods up there
in mountains and ivory towers
and they'll all wear shock collars

i'll spread peanut butter on bread
and send it to them through
the mail

i'll write them letters from the
lower world saying that 'time
really isn't a bother anymore
because apples rot in home
baked pies down here'

i'll reach through my own
tainted build up of corrosive
discharge and pull a petal
from the flower of life
to eat in front of
them with a coffee toothed smile

i'll throw weeds over
palisades into
groomed gardens

i'll **** on the flaming sword
spinning like i do
heavenly gates

i'll put AA batteries on
my ******* and force
feed the north star
until it bursts

i'll stain the glass in windows
extolling failures and shining
blunders under vaulted

i'll be nothing less than
the imperfect son of
an imperfect man and
an imperfect

all too human
after all
Janna B Jan 21
I’m crashing,
for connection.
Not cheaply.
Only genuinely.
The task seems huge.
Thank goodness that you
(my illicit love that could never be)
left me with this self-confidence.
It gives such strength and
Moving on, imperfectly.
Remember her, old friend?
She was...hideous,
You think she was ugly,
oh no, far from it.

She was the fairest,
Her lavishing sable hair,
Her viridian eyes,
Her glamorous smile,

Her soft-hued skin,
Her delicately slender body,
Her dazzling manners,
Her ever so warm demeanor,

Her moves,
Fluid, graceful, focused,
Capturing the essence of the music,
with her mesmerizing artistry.

She was indeed perfect,
Unique, as no one could be as elegant,
Charming, for no one, was as lovely. no one was as rotten.

What she was, my old friend,
Was an empty vessel,
the soul of which had perished,
mortified by its actions.

For all she ever wanted was approval,
so what she did was put on a mask,
losing herself in the process,
becoming a ghost of her formal self.
I am personally very proud with how this one turned out. People have told me that it reminds them of the main heroine of the movie the "Black Swan".
you see me as broken
i see me as whole
but its just who i am
engraved in my soul
Samara Dec 2020
somedays it seems very clear
that December is never dear
to me.

snow-kissed branches outreached
atop snow-kissed mounds of cold

crystals gently laying themselves
upon the silent earth outside.
a silence that can only be heard
when all shelter from the
falling flakes outside.
- - -
winter after winter
i always wish as it draws nearer

for a family warming their toes
around a crackling hearth adorned
with red stockings and an initial
of our names on each.

to be drinking mulled cider
and mull over musings of the
yesteryear together. all while
sneaking glances at the neatly
wrapped boxes underneath the
Christmas tree we wreathed a
day after Thanksgiving.
- - -
but my winters have no snow
and no Christmases worth
watching through a window.
my family is myself
and myself is sorrow.
Janna B Dec 2020
My friend has breast cancer
I look at her
and admire her bravery
her heart, her strength.
Her ability to look at her challenge
right in the eye with courage
and a smile.
She looks at me and says -
she feels the same about me.
Grey Nov 2020
You whisper
drunken promises
through red-rimmed lips,
eyes softer than the fading sun.
Like the kisses on my face
and the shattered pictures on the floor
they'll be broken all too soon.
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