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m Oct 2020
another tuesday
our reality to bend and fold
some bend to dead ends  
we learn to live with it
m Oct 2020
wake up again
its tuesday again
no i don't want to continue watching
i wont brush my teeth this morning
Arke Jan 2019
the bartender poured
a double of something
"drink this," she said
"just don't smell it,
and definitely don't sip it"
her light eyes looked at me
and for a moment reminded me
of what I wanted to forget
I downed the shots but
they never made me feel better
I briefly contemplated my options
a one-way ticket to Manchester
or drinking on-sale antifreeze
my silver jacket buttons
holding cold in their heart
I took a drag from a cigarette
dangled it between my fingers
"I don't even smoke", I laughed
my words hung in the air
like a foreign object out of reach
and it smelled like you
watching ashes and smoke
getting lost in the crisp air
hush me
in
your
dreams
that we may
wake mute
?














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Poetic T Oct 2017
The hangover of that one day
                      that lingers like to much fun...

Mondays ****,
               but Tuesdays
                       are the hangover cure..
Echoes Of A Mind Apr 2016
Stay strong
Take 10 deep breaths
And if it doesn't work
Then try with some beer...

Don't run
Even though you wan't to
Don't cry
While he's there...

Stay strong
Take a deep breath
There's only half an hour
Before he'll be here...

Don't run
It won't help after all
Don't cry
Your make-up will smear...

Stay strong
I know he's standing right there
Just look away
Imaginate him just being air...

Don't run
Don't give up now
Face it headstrong
Then cry when you get home...

Stay strong
Just hold everything in
And when you sit in the train
Just let the tears fall...

Stay still
But don't be frozen
When you get home
Cry behind your curtains...

Stay strong
Think happy thoughts
And act happy
Act like you aren't crushed...

Don't run
Face it head on
Smile and hide
That inside you cry...
My mind after 11:00 A.m. on Tuesdays and around 02:00 P.m on Thursdays....
murielle lemaire May 2014
coffee.
we meet at starbucks and i can almost pretend nothing changed until i feel the distance in your voice.
i am calm and quiet. i did not expect this
yet here i am sitting in front of you as you explain how you feel (a rarity).
and you and i are alike in more ways than i realized before.

cantalope.
flying through the young night air
i feel alive and free and happy again.
i meet theresa j hanson. dancer, 19, long thin hair and long thin body.
she says she's heard a lot about me and i am surprised and i like her very much (or my first impression anyways) even though you told me that one time that you had *** with her and other girls would probably instinctively hate her. but i can't. she's just so nice and anyways that *** had nothing to do with me.
she gives us cantalope and me ice water.

cigar smoke.
we go out on the little apartament porch and you smoke the cheap cigar, the kind your grandfather smokes. get a red solo cup for the ashes and i found an old ***** butter knife out here. and we sit. and unexpectedly you say can we start over. and im shocked(you've suprisde me so much tonight) but so grateful and of course we can. you blow smoke rings and when you say whooo are youuu i cannot help but think of alice in wonderland and you are the smoking catepillar who asks life's hard questions and am i alice or the queen or the mad hatter or lewis carroll

coming back.
we reinact a a scene as if we just met and i kiss you as if it's the first time and that is how you will remember me and my lips are cold and your mouth is full of smoke and the kiss is fire and ice it's a wonder we did not steam. something so you'll remember me{i will never forget} and i guess we'll figure out on the way.

— The End —