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Martin Narrod Apr 2014
1909, on top of the dragon.
Marigolds whipping a tepid fug in this small room of stringy daylight.
That place where we fell in love. Where I dropped a hot cup of tea on my pants
And we ate sushi on the beach. I love the beach.

I am not ready for the ice festival or your new boyfriend.
He smells like bad disco and old people.
This piano concerto that I play before bed, before awakening,
I have your black dresser drawer in my bedroom,
It glistens of our days of Jasmine and Roses.

My mind blurs stories of you, her, and the other girl.
Rad violin songs, a friend from Argentina has introduced me to
Mystify me, I cannot hear straight or stand still. I have acquired
A gift for shivering. Still I can feel your talons raking up my spine.
*******! Where? Why? How did you do that thing with your mouth?

I count upwards from you and in my peaking hours of misfortune, I
Never come back down to earth's giant centrality of duel existence.
My gut expands into my chest, my nervous system and anxiety is
All of you, a lot of her, and none of the other girl.
I make half inch black markings on the wall, this curse of feeling and not forgetting
That never goes away.
Daylight 4U2C Apr 2014
You wrote me off,
so I'll write you on.
You see,
when you leave,
you just provide inspiration.
So in the end just who used who?
It's pretty **** simple,
"I used you."
You probably wished
I would sob away life.
But that's so inhumane,
why run,
when I can fly?
You probably thought,
I'd plead you to stay,
but nah..
to be honest,
I'm feeling really okay.
I don't care about
the things you said,
the things you did,
or the things you tried so hard to hide.
In two years or so,
I won't even remember you're name.
"He did that to me? Oh what a shame."
Now for once,
I'll give you what you want,
and this time you can't complain.
I'll write you into this poem,
and soon enough you'll have fame.
Comments? Hearts?
Daylight 4U2C Apr 2014
I drank the alcohol, expecting something.
boy was I let down, when I got nothing.
No silly laughter, or grand horror story.
No youtube video, or easy talk for me.
Just a headache or two and a feeling of suffocation.
Just a scolding from people, and a dizzy sensation.
The bottle looked nice, and tv shows made it seem fun,
but after 3 gulps, I just felt like a street ***.
So I said goodbye to armpit beer,
and I assure no rose wine here.
*** is for pirates,
much too complicated for me.
I'm done with heartache alcohol,
as you can plainly see.
How do people even get addicted to that nasty stuff?
Daylight 4U2C Jan 2014
If you give a wishing stone,
she'll travel out all on her own.
She'll  leave behind the fear and pain,
and keep herself from going insane.
While her friends are getting diagnosed,
she'll be somewhere in her boat.
Maybe she'll have tea for two,
but at least she'll know what to do.
And they may ask, and plead, and beg to be in her world,
but she'll certainly say,
"Be gone, be gone, or off with your head."
Which should be said, since they cursed her be dead.
If you give a girl a wishing stone,
she'll truly feel all alone,
and for those who never cared "be gone!"
The queen has finally sang her song.
She was never a fool, just a withered small bud,
and those pigs would throw her around in the mud.
So sure she dreams and dazes off,
but she can do whatever she wants.
She earned a bit of recognition,
for all antagonize and inhibition.
Give that girl some cheer,
she fought a war for all those years.
Stop the hate for her being crushed,
unlike some, she had no love!
The glass shattered hard,
it's no surprised it became shards.
Giving time and yells,
doesn't heal, it kills.
If you give a girl a wishing stone,
you've given her one happiness finally of her own.
Alias Mar 2014
They are talking
Together
But the words
Are going
In two
Different directions
i Mar 2014
am
01.00am--                                                                    
she is sleeping peacefully,
dreaming of him in an alluring dream                                  
that she knows will never come true.

02.00am--
she is now fully awake,
sweating in her wet clothes and
sweat dripping from her forehead
due to the nightmare she just had.

03.00am--
why can't she fall back asleep?
the horrifying dream is still a clear
image in her twisted mind.
she needs him.

04.00am--
all the numbers are written,
the only thing she needs to do is press
the green button on her phone
and call him.

05.00am--
he was *******, to say at least.
nobody wanted to be awaken by a stranger
in four in the morning.
it was a mistake.

06.00am--
she still hasn't fallen asleep.
she stayed up all night.
she couldn't bare to have the nightmare again.
and now she has to face reality.
she hates it.

07.00am--
her makeup is applied.
and her clothes are clean and perfect,
as they always are and should be.
how is she going to face him after
she called him in four in the morning?

08.00am--
she couldn't find him anywhere.
she knew where his locker was,
but still he wasn't there.
she was now worried that
perhaps she was the reason for his absence.

09.00am--
she couldn't hold it in.
her tears fell and fell on the hard ground beneath her.
she couldn't believe it.
he was gone.
and it was all her fault.

10.00am--
she ditched school.
she didn't care about that anymore.
all she wanted to do is be with him.
and that was what was she going to do.

11.00am--
she watched as the blood slowly started
dripping from her newly cut wrist.
she held the tears and the pain in.
she didn't let out a sound.
soon her lifeless body will be found on
her bathroom floor.
but at least, she would be with him.
and that was all that mattered to her.
Nickols Oct 2012
I want to sleep with you.
No, I do not mean ***.
I want to sleep next too you.

I want to pull you closer.
In my bed.
Snuggled close under the covers.
Bodies pressing in a warming bliss.

Your hand touching my hip,
your nose nestled into my hair.
The pleasant press of your smiling mouth at the back of my neck.

Yes, sleeping with you is quite wonderful.
© Victoria

— The End —