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#punchdrunk
B-lankets and pillows never felt better no matter what surface wearing you + me sweaters A-ll night under street lights after working so hard comfort squeezed tight between red and white cars J-umping from tree trunks to bounce on my balcony or tripping through doorways lamenting your exiting A-bsolving my Queen of hearts choking in barren land between seats, belts, and borders holding your hand N-estled in bed two children and Halo on your head lips of flames lost and found ignoring what was said G-iving Forgiveness for Arrhythmia of Heart remembering the beginning going back to the start A-ccepting that no matter how far apart We are the creators of each others art.
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Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
Bajanga
My ***** felt a feather heavier than iron As I’d opted for anything other than rollover Whilst puking up that, “nicer,” guy. The drink’s a ghost. The scold’s a mixer, Soured on the rocks, Shaken, not stirred, Stirred, not shaken, And without a sliver of, “he,” who’d opt Accommodate or acquiesce. Call it, “transcendence,” I guess? Born a realization that this world’s, “DOG-EAT-DOG,” or, “GOD-EAT-GOD,” or, “GOD-TEA-DOG,” And should I not comprehend This very simple reality, I’d be a doormat unto my own grave. So I fail, I’m frail, and all for one tail Prior the act that’d ever invoke, “Leave;” even atop the eve of beggary. Resolute? I’d opt for the longer life, perhaps, Not that I’d wanted to live to long anyway, But I’d made a choice, I’d arbitrated one cardinal direction – elliptical. I’d acted, placated, satiated, intimidated, Decimated, defecated, wiggled my right pinky And culminated a prayer atop altars, “godless,” To never knock upon that door again. And so, but one question remains, “Did I?”
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
Between (boys, girls and tables etched bourbon)