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Xallan Dec 2018
Poetry is a food, a fueler, a filler
Of that emptiness we hope to resolve
Words are a chemistry, a balance, an equation
For nutrition of our nonexisting soul
Words- we take, we bake, we fill
Ourselves too full, we are gluttons
Sticky letters dissolve to
Nonsense,  and hang off our tongue,
Always dripping, never falling
I began this movement, this culinary labratory
Where we mix chemicals together to
Create two-dimensional poisons of ecstacy
Lost in our minds, on our lips, savoring
Every drop-
Ignatius Hosiana Sep 2015
You could leave on the next jet plane
And go to whatever destination
Without having to explain
Without I asking any question
You could walk out that door
With your bags and baggage
Take the best car in the lot and go
Covering whatever milage
You can walk away at any time
Incase you feel loving me is tiring
Satiety has never been a crime
Even as a child things kept expiring
You are free to leave though its bound to hurt
Venture far away but I'll still have you in my heart

— The End —