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Tsunami Apr 2020
A half burnt smoke never tastes the same
As an un-lit cigarette.
It’s the same with love.

We can never tumble back in time to;
Happy nights nuzzling in bed,
Clandestine kisses on the dock at midnight,
Drinking in glorious sunsets and city lights.
As if we could ever pretend that the world was perfect.

We can never dance back into;
Long car rides to Victoria,
Drunk laughs in the rain,
Late night cuddles on the couch
Playing video games to our hearts content.

In all honesty, I don’t need to live in the past
I like smoking full cigarettes to make them last.
u put ur heartbreak into one
Tsunami Apr 2020
I was a page in your book of life.
You were a whole chapter in mine.
Tsunami Nov 2019
I'm sorry that I can not swallow my tongue
To appease you
Gulp it whole and choke
To make you feel good

I'm sorry that my body trembles
When I think of your hands
Grasped tightly around my neck
At that point, you are in more control of me
Than I have ever been
Tsunami Sep 2019
The creak of a door,
A sliver of light
Slips and illuminates the evergreen tops.

A sigh of relief echoes between our two walls.
I hear the flick of a lighter.
An orange glow appears.
Floating about an arms length away from a dark shadow mostly hidden
behind the evergreens i always complain of.

We end up mimicking each others actions
Swimmers in a line,
Diving in at the same time.
Synchronizing the timing of raising
our separate cigarettes to
our separate lips,

It’s a small solace,
Two strangers, simultaneously trying to **** themselves just a bit quicker
The only form of intimacy we know at this point in life.

Ash, take a drag, ash, take a drag
Rinse and repeat
The wash cycle is almost over
We puff away together
Until one of us tires or hits the ****.

I once again, hear;
The creak of a door,
A sliver of light illuminates the tight knit needles.
I hear a gentle slam,
In his own way, a goodnight
we have an intimacy no one can mimic
Tsunami Aug 2019
The
       mangoes
make an appearance
before the
                 monsoon...
so will you.
i was 17 when i wrote this
  Jul 2019 Tsunami
Jason James
It ends with a whisper,
A handwritten letter
Saying goodbye,
Sorry
I tried
Tsunami Jul 2019
Sometimes,
My brain doesn’t understand how to get from
Point A to Point B
Without hitting Z, F, G, P
A symbiotic drum
Beating to our heartbeats

Sometimes,
My mind doesn’t know
How to count from one to ten
Without bringing twelve and ninety
To bubble up in between
It is a potion gone wrong in all honesty

I don’t go from being friends to acquaintances
Its all or nothing
Love and hate
Lust and disgust
There is no middle ground

Sometimes,
Thats the problem.
i dont know how to be normal
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