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 Dec 2013 The Haywire
M
Let's stay away from the edge of the bed,
Roll inward toward one another
So that we can stay closer together.

Your chest, my head-
You can just be my lover,
Fitting me better than my favorite sweater.

See, the edge of the bed
Is the diving board for all the things
I'd rather not remember.

Some nights, everything I've never said,
All the mistakes, insecurities, faults ring
Through my mind, lighting an ember

That sets fire to things I'd rather forget.
But I don't want these thoughts to bleed and spread-
I don't want to relive all of those best-forgotten thoughts

Because when my mind lets
The memories roll through my head,
I sincerely wish they would just not.

And I don't have to will the memories away
When you're holding me close
In the middle of the night-

The thoughts don't relay
Because I'm too busy feeling myself doze
Off into your arms, until tomorrow's light-

You're holding me from the edge
Where there is no possible opportunity
For whatever lurks beneath my bed

To resurface and climb up my bed post, perch on a ledge
And jump back into my mind; You're my immunity,
You're what keeps it all from reentering my head.

So your fingertips rolling down my spine
And your soft breaths rolling in and out of your mouth
And your body rolling over, closer to me

Is really a barrier that lets me sleep in peace, I've come to find;
I don't have any doubt
That you make me feel as safe as I could be.
Inspired by Keaton Henson's "Let's Grow Up Together"
 Dec 2013 The Haywire
annmarie
Quite a few years from now,
my daughter will be twelve.
And all her friends will start
to think about things like
first kisses and winter dances,
and I know she will ask me
what my first love had been like.
And when that happens,
I'm going to smile
(though it may be bittersweetly)
as I remember
driving around aimlessly with you
singing along to bad radio stations
and exploring our town
to find the best local coffeeshops.
I'll remember nights
in our high school arts building
when nobody else was around
looking at the newest pictures
the photography class pinned up,
and how gentle you were
whenever our lips met.
I'll remember how no matter
how close you held me,
I always wanted it to be closer.
I'll remember exactly the way
that your favorite scarf smelled,
and the safety I felt
when you'd pull me into your arms.

I don't know what else will happen
between today and the day my daughter asks,
but whenever it is,
the answer to that question
will always be you—
so I want you to know
I can't thank you enough
for a story that makes me glad
I let myself fall in love with you.
I found this in a notebook from this summer and I might write a version two later but for now I like the original.
On my first day as a tutor (a sad tale for tutors)
Said the boy, sir, your face looks like a horse
Shocked beyond words by the slapping commentary
I said how it matters boy show your book of history!

History, oh no, that’s a subject I abhor
It hasn’t anything that needs a tutor
The kings and queens and years of wars
Got no charm for me all the unending curse!

My hands itched hard to pull out his hair
Just a kid I said and it won’t be fair
I must put up with all the nonsense
Mend him and get my reward for patience!

Don’t talk like that boy bring your English book
How far you’ve progressed let me have a look
English, it’s so easy I can learn by myself
It’s one subject I need no tutor’s help!

It’s time I thought to use my last card of trump
Bring boy your copy of subtractions and sums
Surely you need there someone to guide you
He kept quiet and my hopes soared anew!

Maths, that’s truly something from you I need to learn
If you offer to teach me there’s no way I can spurn
But before we proceed his chuckles he could hardly hide
Do crawl on all fours to be the horse I love to ride!

A thousand bees stung me a million sparks flew
I knew my time was up wasn’t anything more to do
I wished to give his head the hardest hammer’*****
Just a kid I had to swallow made a hasty retreat!
This is for poet Jay Esse in response to her poem let's be honest here
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/lets-be-honest-here/
Her
Studded jacket
Honest eyes
Mermaid hair
She strikes with brilliance
Gentle spirit
Rare

You glide through the icy winter
I hear your endearing voice say
“You’re in much pain”
“Come inside out of the rain”
Flooded streets with no lights, so blind

Give me your fantasies
Give me your warm embrace

Gladly laying in your arms
Human kindness, let’s spend the day
Killing
Satin blankets cover us
The radiant moon provides
Light, so we can see our passion in front of our eyes

Scream into the pillow
Howl to the stars above
The content feeling ******* bring
This is love
       -Tommy Johnson
A call changed my life.
I can hear her voice shaking, grumbling about the unfairness of life.
It has caught me in a daze of unexpected news, of an unexpected loss.
Life has cheated my faith once more, taking his soul to a restful haze.
But his journey just started, life is more than a physical presence.
He is now in a spiritual journey, in a mystical paradise of eternal happiness.

My tears are his new ways of caressing my cheeks.
My numbness his way of hugging my veins stopping with it all my blood flow.
The blood that carries his name and genes through rivers of crystallized waters.
Making each drop of blood a diamond of inherited richness.

He will now be my life companion.
My only confidant.
My only light.
My only serenity.
My only joyfulness.
My only guide to a peaceful life.

You are now the ink of these words I write, the message behind each line.
You are now my purpose for life, my biggest light of sunbeam that each morning shines.
You are now my ANGEL, embracing me, with each breeze mother nature gives me.
Making everything less painful.

My life will forever smile while looking up at the sky.
Just let me know how glorious your life is now, resting your head on clouds.
Our vows, will forever make me proud.
Making your memories into beautiful sounds.
And healing with it the wounds you left, when you decided to fly.

Just let me know how heaven feels.
Grandpa.
 Dec 2013 The Haywire
Lizzy
Empty
 Dec 2013 The Haywire
Lizzy
The only thing I feel nowadays
Is empty
The last butterfly in my stomach
Flew away
Or died
Either way they're gone
I no longer feel
The blade going across my arms

The sharp pain
Followed by a burning sensation
I guess 'empty' is better than
Depressed
Suicidal
Hopeless
Alone
Worthless
Tired
And scared
But it sure as hell Isn't better than
Happy
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