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Tana Young Jun 2014
You have this scent
The luster of you
It floods my dreams
Overflows me, and I wake up
And I truly ache for you
So I don't sleep, trying to avoid,
this ache, this horribly perfect scent
Successfully avoiding my dreams
But this scent,
is slowly flooding into my days
This scent of your chest
Is overflowing out of my mind
Into my days
Maybe if I sleep, and give it a chance to breathe
Maybe this scent of you won't flood me
Tana Young Jul 2013
Winter steps firmly into the room
Fall, Spring, and even Summer are shaken
Everything Winter lays its black, brittle, cracked hands on
Loses it color
Even the Sun is frightened
Winter has a darkness of no other
Winter brings on thoughts of depression
It works its way into minds and simply
     Twists
Shoots through your eyes like a bullet to the brain
Instant and unnoticed, dead in a blink of an eye  
Then its dark thick roots feed on our brain
Then slowly claws its way down to your feet
     Relentlessly
Soon your feet are planted in one spot
You're a Winter tree, dead and dark
Your arms are its branches, for it to control
It
     Consumes
you
You dwell on one thing
Soon you smile at the thought
You long for it
     Death

Don't let that fiend
Step in and crumble your mind
Few recover
Nothing burns like the cold of snow
Melancholy is the sound of Winters trees brittle branches
Blowing through the icy, dry, wind
     Beware
Tana Young Mar 2015
Extremely perfect, with large, faded, gray eyes
With the most lightest blonde hair strands,
you have and will ever see
I cannot say whether any disease of amore
of the heart caused her cheeks to be so red
But this is the only thing I can see

— The End —