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A B Perales Apr 15
I've had a headache for the last 4 days.

I'm sitting in my room surrounded by mementos I keep meaning to throw away.

Everything I own is covered in dust, this way I can tell when its been touched.

My Cat lays dead in a card board box wrapped in her favorite blanket
while I sit here trying to get as high as I can before burying her in my front yard at midnight.

I have 5 hours until I have to drive over 100 miles before the sun rises all for $26.00 an hour.

Another friend died, a close friend, at one time he was my best friend.

I skipped the last 2 funerals and fought at the last one I went to.

Did I mention my Cat.
She saved my life once.
She was 18 years old and died in my arms.

I've had a headache for the last 4 days and I refuse to take any kind of pills.

I'm still alive but dead on the side you can't see.

I'll count the signs along the highway and pray for someone to hear me.

She invited me to dinner , I haven't gone anywhere but work and the liquor store in years.

I told her I missed her but asked her not to stay.
autobiography or maybe just being dramatic
A B Perales Apr 15
I'm in a
full of

little man with a gun in his hand
Tony Tweedy Mar 16
If I could ride a white stallion,
wearing burnished armour of gold.
I would cross the high mountains
for my eyes on your smile to behold.

Across land scorched by suns fire,
droughts parched burning sand,
all this I could defeat and endure,
for a mere touch from your hand.

You have me captivated, enthralled
by means of your charm and your grace.
Entranced and passively subdued,
by beauties smile on your face.

How sad has become this world.
where poetry for a beauty is not news.
I behold the wonder and the beauty,
of my goddess, my passions true muse.
How daft a man can be made when a beauty looks his way.
Humble Mar 3
I think I deserve this,

I’ve always covered myself
with a blanket of fear,
that way,
I don’t fall in love with you

I was protecting myself
from getting hurt when this thing
between us goes sour,
I didn’t think about your feelings too.

Classic me, always selfish

Here I am now, loving you and
you’re slipping away from me.
I don’t want to lose you, but
maybe it’s time I became selfless
and just let you go.

I deserve this ache in my heart.
Deep Feb 20
Let me invoke the Devine Muses
Who sits on Mount Helicon
Cherishing the arts of poets and artisans
Whom they immortalized
By guiding their pen;

I implore your aid
In completing this poem
And several yet to conceive,
Fill in me the empty;
The lack of words, metaphors, smilies
And tropes to cover emotions.

O holy! Devine
Inspire my mind who craves fame
Aspire this pen to write truths name,
Fill it with the ink of courage;
No compassion nor fear can divert
It from unraveling the hidden.

O! Symbol of purity and keeper of sacred thoughts
You shape a bud into a plant
And by your one breath comes the spring;
Leaves, flowers, and fruits all,
Same way breathe unto me
Give me life and aim
To make this time count
And unconsciously— like great poets,
Metaphysicians and alchemists,
Mark my name and work in this world.
N Feb 10
Give me your
crimson mouth
to devour in secret

Help me put out
this burning desire–

All the unspeakable
things I hunger for

Be my muse,
so I can finish
writing this poem
Persephone Jan 19
You are truly breathtakingly beautiful.
And I condemn god every time I see you for not gifting me with an artistic soul.   
For you deserve nothing less then to be immortalized in art
Lil Moon Moon Jan 18
Somebody put me out of my misery,
I've been struck by a curious malady:
I can't seem to stop
writing sappy poetry!

Perhaps it's *** my muse is ineffable,
Can't help if that makes her indelible.

Now the evidence lies before your very eyes,
That she as cause and culprit should pay the price

For all of my absurd sentimentalities
Is a result of her bewitchful tendencies:

Bore a mighty wordsmith
out of a hopeless romantic.
Now this whole shebang
might drive me ballistic

As time passes
I can't seem to find a problem with that though

My muse, my lady malady:
Fine, I'll be the lunatic
Now wouldn't that be poetic??
N Feb 1
I know,
my love,
my muse,
I have always known

I knew that this would
be our last conversation,
but this is not my last poem

It pained me deeply,
but I knew that one day
I will slowly start to forget
your loving face,
bewitching scent,
and soothing voice

Oh, how I loved you
I knew I will still love you
even after you desert me

I knew it,
but I still held your small hand
I still worshiped you in secret
I still adored you blindly

And I still do
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