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 Dec 2013 violent veins
Emily
Sometimes I sit on my bed
Looking at your picture
Your smiling face
Your bright eyes
Oh how wonderful
You made my life

Sometimes I cry & put on Pink Floyd
We used to listen together
About life and struggles
We would talk deeply
We were the only deep ones
That's right, just you and me

Sometimes I wonder where your spirit has gone
Are you soaring in nature?
Are you smiling down from heaven?
That beautiful smile I miss so much
How I wish to see your face
How I wish for one last touch

Sometimes I feel my memories start to fade
But all it takes is a smell
Or a song, maybe an image
And they all rush back to me
At times it can feel so real
Can't believe I lost you completely

Your death is my reminder
To never waste a second
I love you my best friend, my lover
And I'll always long for you
And I'll always cherish all
That we ever went through
© Peyton 2013
 Dec 2013 violent veins
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The passage is dark and deep
Forever going in the darkest dreams
The rooms all different
All bathed in the half light
As I'm dragged along
Twisting and contorting
To see it all before I'm gone

A room with knives
And one solitary chair
Where I would sit and loving stare
It leads to a room of headless snakes
A twirling kaleidoscope
Of red and green
Tinged in death
Maddening dreams

The room in which
I was locked
The door is stuck
I am weak
There is no
way to escape
these walls
the endless
passages
of haunting halls

Leading down the hall again
Leads us to a room in which
Indian movies music played
The screen danced and flicked
while your body flicked along,
foam crawling out your mouth
eyes rolling back
In this boys dream
a mother screams
And I can do nothing,
yet again
Of youth and age and memories

Another door yet to open
of sickness repression
Of warmth and senses
Smell taste touch
The heat burns of this childish lust
The wolf froths and growls
Its teeth glisten
And I scream
A dream within a dream

We climb up the stairs
as they curve and crack
splinters of this dream
ever more it will seem
never real to me

of a room within a room
the tiniest doors for tiny hands and tiny dreams
I but ever small
The room has shrunken
and I will ever crawl
ever more
too big
to find
that
tiny
door

— The End —