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John Benjamin Apr 2017
It is not some dusty frame,
            hanging rusty nails;
                        chaotic mess.

            No es amor solo amar, to you,
                      just some language you,
                                can't comprehend.

Distraught, despaired, disheveled,
                a dystopian novel notion,
                                     romanticized.
        
                     There's no need;
you don't need to patronize.

Cold hand upon cold hand;
       lifeless smiles colluding.

                                 And as if you were a Monet sunrise,
my impression of you is that of drunken brush strokes,
                                                        ­                   dull blues,
                                               and angry orange hues,
Left on display within a rotting, wooden frame.
Zero Nine Apr 2017
Can't claw the

bugs from my skin.
The bullet I fired years ago has
come back around time to sever
the tightly fed tape that splays
my life over brick and stone.
Deja Vu. One step behind. I
can rarely find the words
you want to hear the most.
Patronize my heart, dear child,
for your sustenance. After all,
the bomb we dropped together
left the hungry world wanting
safety above all. Go for it. I
can't claw the bugs from my
itching skin, so bathe me in
money.
....
mk Dec 2015
your kindness is patronizing
keep your pity to yourself
i'd rather lose you
than lose myself

— The End —