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Kiss me* like the world depends on it.
Kiss me like your heart might break.
Kiss me like it'll start a riot.
Kiss me like the ground might shake.

Kiss me while the sky is falling.
Kiss me while the world is ending.
Kiss me while my heart starts stalling.
Kiss me while our minds are blending.

Kiss me at the peak of a mountain.
Kiss me at the ocean shore.
Kiss me at the drinking fountain.
Kiss me at the prison door.

Kiss me everywhere,
In any place,
Kiss me anywhere,
Not just my face.

Kiss me now,
Or kiss me tomorrow,
I don't care how,
It removes all sorrow.

Just kiss me here,
And kiss me forever.
I need you dear,
To kiss me however.
Written 12-7-14
The crowd watches, crying silently.
Three figures gather around a black coffin with a red trim.
They all lay a gentle hand on top the shining surface.
Tears fall down their faces, not for the first time.
They all move to their rightful places on the stage, the fallen brother in the center.
They start playing a set, dedicated to the Killjoy the world though would never die.
As the first note to “Welcome to the Black Parade” is heard, people begin to break down.
They play the cheerful songs as well, though they aren’t as much.
They’re crying as the memories of life with him swim through their heads.
“NaNaNa,” plays in a slower way.
More of a painful cry for the moment.
They struggle on, through the songs, each remembering how it felt to play together as a family.
Each feeling that it’s different now, it’s not whole.
And as the last song came to be played, they all remembered their band’s last concert.
People became hysterical, as “Famous Last Words” plays on.
Citizens across the globe cry, as they say goodbye to their hero.
And as they all watch the casket being lifted and carried down the aisle and to the hearse, they all, united as one being, whisper quietly, “…so long and goodnight…so long…and goodnight…”
And as people all around hug each other in a desperate attempt to comfort and be comforted,
One person smiles.
He’s there, though they cannot see.
He wipes their tears away, though they cannot feel.
He tells them, “It’ll be okay,” “He’s here,” and “They’ll see him soon.”
They do not hear.
But deep inside they know he’s there,
Smiling bitter-sweetly as he wipes their tears,
Hugging them, as he whispers words of comfort,
Because they all secretly know,
That a Killjoy Never Really Dies.
Written 10-26-24
I can warm your heart,
I can speed it up.
Like a waitress with her cart,
I can fill your cup.
I can come in two’s,
Or in fours.
I can come with a red hue,
Or with a passionate core.
Do they love you?
I’ll let you know,
When I’m through,
You’ll surely glow.
I show that people care,
I’m perfect for saying “goodnight,”
I’m always going to be there,
When holding your lover tight.
I’m perfect,
Please, know this.
I am no defect,
I’m a kiss.
Written 9-18-14
I’m a happy human being.
There’s a smile on my face.
And my heart is quietly singing,
I’m dancing in my place.
It’s a tune that’s all my own.
My dreams are all in color,
And have joyful, merry tones.
There’s really just no other,
No one’s happier than me.
My life’s the most perfect thing,
It’s wonderful, don’t you see?
For I’m a happy human being.
Written 9-18-14
There’s something poetic about the color red.
The irony in its symbols.
The way the representations clash.
Red; some think of love.
Red; others think of danger,
Of hatred.
Or, really,
Red is a metaphor in itself.
As it does,
In fact,
Represent love and danger.
Love can be dangerous

Roses are red.
Many think them to be beautiful.
People also see the devil as red.
Many assume him to be ugly and intimidating.
Red is not a discriminating color.

The American flag has red.
Red can mean freedom.
Red can mean good.
The ****’s used the color red.
Red can be a cage.
Red can be evil.

Red is like people,
Human, but not all the same.
Some are black and some are white.
Some are in between.
Some are gay and some are straight.

Humans are like red.
Some are good and some are evil.
Some love and some hate.
Some are dangerous and some aren’t.
All this in one species.
All this in red.
Red is,
Sort of,
A Poetic Color.
Written 9-8-14
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