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 Oct 2020 Michael Perry
Owen
Lessons
 Oct 2020 Michael Perry
Owen
This time,
I wont run.
This time,
I'll feel it all
every ounce of pain,
every punch to the gut,
every knife in my back,
in my heart.
I want to remember this.
Brand me.
So I can finally stop
repeating history.
I wont be numb this time .
Rose-tinted is too delicate,
this was more a blizzard,
fake snow blurring everything real.
all I could do was feel.
How cold and empty it was
but to me, it was like Christmas
What could this be?
Do you belong to me?
It's all thawed out now
and it's ever so bleak
to think I believed you could ever,
ever.. like me?
oh Anna, please!
You and love will never be.
 Oct 2020 Michael Perry
Owen
Ashes
 Oct 2020 Michael Perry
Owen
You once told me
you couldn't stand to see me
in another women's arms.
Now you've pushed me into them.

You once said
you'd never lie
to save my feelings,
but here we are

You once assured me
you'd always love me
even when I don't.
Now you're gone.

You said you'd follow me anywhere,
and I cant believe I believed you.

Every word you ever said to me
was empty.
No substance.
No weight.

You used to talk about future,
fate.
Just words to you.
Might as well
be ashes
in your mouth.
You did this. I'm done feeling like there's somthing wrong with me. Done with the gaslighting. I hope youre happy, truly.
 Oct 2020 Michael Perry
ri
dear
 Oct 2020 Michael Perry
ri
last night I dreamt
on fettered branches
the green edge of your knife
splitting us in two

and your wicked tongue
poked out to taste the salt

how many times
will I scribble these lines
praying for ink to fill the absence?
MIGs over Miami
Russians in Times Square
if this is New America
I'm glad that I'm not there

IIlyushins land in Illinois
in Idaho they know
that Kansas is the place to be
if I was there I'd go.
Remember me
When you see the moon
On the door of your heart
One, two and three
The sound of my rapping knock
Under the full bright moon
Remember me
When you see the moon
there are stories in your feet;
chronicles of to and fro.
footprints - an appropriate name -
on pages of sand
and gravel
and stone
and clay
where have you been?
where did you go?
for I cannot read your steps
and I beg to hear your tales
and right now
I am parched for your words
sitting
alone on a crowded beach
with sand in my ears
head on my chest
can't hold my breath
this feels so good
love to the death
planting kisses along my neck
carrying me to bed
we talk until
there are no secrets left
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