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KHY 2d
Unraveling the mystery in her spine
Knots all throughout time
I break it in;
I cave my mark,
I show her how I like to start
Coy
•Don't you think you're standing too close
#But you did not oppose
•Cause your touch is so overwhelming
It numbs my brain
#So does your breath
Falling on my chest
•Maybe it's the lack of air inbetween
That's building this tension
#But this tension of our bond
Won't even let distance do us apart
•Who talks like that these days
#I'm witnessing one,
Between a boy and a girl of Laws
Stuck in the wonderland of Words
•That sounds more like the Never Never Land
#Don't let your sceptic shield come inbetween
Not tonight
•So that you can make me fall hard and deep
#So that I can kiss your wounds to heal
•But the soar soul will bring it back
How will you touch that
#Through that Venus trap you have for lips
•Your beard is no less of spikes
Growing goosebumps all over my skin
Running that chill across my spine
#It's good our interactive field **** our brains
At least for once our hearts can overtake
•I'm such a submissive to your strong gentle hold
#I'm so weakened at the sight of your rising-falling stole
I remember you
all too well.
Your beautiful,
dark eyes
that captured me inside.
Your touch against mine
that sent a chill down my spine.
Your words
that caught me off guard.
I fell for you;
you tricked my heart.
LearnfromBOBD Dec 2018
Prettiful like a pine
Colourful like a wine
Love, I say no decline
For I will be fine
She’s my poem, I’m her poet
My mum knows your name
I can take all the blame
My poetic eagle
My baby boo boo  
Maybe one year today
Or ten days away
Even just one day
I will be able to say
I truly love you
I wrote my mom a letter
I told her I got a princess
If I slit my throat
All I don’t wanna bleed is regret
You my Ode of love
With respect
Em Dec 2018
A whimsical tweet
powerful enough
To send shivers
down your spine

The tones that make you
want to dance
and want to cry
are always the most divine.
i love bittersweet stuff
flutes make me feel like that i dunno
luv music
Bryce Dec 2018
The air is burly
trees harvest soldiers on the line
combines, threads, manure, life--
A whole world lost amidst the flats

Saplings are the next season's
Almonds, Apples, Dates,
Waiting for food shelves and stockrooms
packed in banana boxes and given a place
They will find the plates of capitol city dwellers
They will be enjoyed far away from their origins

The Sierra-- oh the great plutonic mass
They are grey from age, peppered with white whiskers of snow
They are asking to be known as the interior

Pilgrims who traveled over their spines, seeking these fertile swampland
Now airstrips and dirigibles

The edges of clouds on the valley, the deserts and the mountains like folds of a book
they crackle in the sun and the skin of the earth shrinks in its gaze

Migratory birds dance in the fields, the lowly clang of bell
Bleached american flags tell us this is the land

The land of things and endless breadth

This is only California, but the majesty of it
a gem valley encased by the rocks, in silicates
A roaming place for cows, wanderers, farmers, dreams

Where the only edge of things is the mountains, saying
-Climb me, surmount me, lay me under your deeds-
Robin Lemmen Nov 2018
Maybe I do, hope for you to one day read this.

And if you do, know that I did think about our could have been's. The conversations that would have created, deep-rooted storms inside of me. Intrigued by the glimmer in your eyes and the way your bones seemed to be pages full of stories. How I would have loved to read them, explore the meaning of words with my wildfire touch. Fingertips trailing down, tracing lines, writing songs along the curve of your spine.

And if you do, too, maybe one day we shall find a way to write them down. These will be's, as they are now. Crafting a universe, just us, you and I.

And if you never do. I hope you are well. Speaking in chapters with people worth your time. I am glad you found magic in their minds and a challenge in their smiles.
And I still hope you will.
How's it going, these days?
   Pretty good.
How's your family been?
   I wouldn't know--
   I renounced the blood.
   In doing so, I kicked the sick.
   I can't make a better world, but
   I can pen an ending to this ancient curse.

   I can choose a family,
   & I chose the
   vertebrae that
   puts my spine back
   in alignment.

I always had this choice.
Now I can see it.
I can let the blood,
and guarantee the world,
I'll have no progeny.

Trust me, when I say
it's my gift
to you and yours.

;)
She sat there with her rusty voice box, a  drought on her tongue and a pen aching to flood the pristine sheet with blue ink.
She poured pain into words of refuge and tucked the love etched memories into words.
She wrote to the ones she loved, who made her heart beat ever so intensely. For who rooted her strengthening her spine with courage. For the ones who betrayed, abandoned and hurt making her swallow sorrows whole on empty stomach.
She undressed her truth as she painted shades of past, resurfacing the suppressed from the dustiest parts of her mind, reigniting the dying embers. As she wrote thoughts screamed to be heard, memories weeped to be replayed as she crafted sentences, paragraphs, beginning and ends, sunrises and sunsets; the breathing of her heart allowing her to feel a sense of relief.
But she never sent them, for they were riskier to be read by them than to be tucked safely away.
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