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 Mar 2015 Isabelle Perla
Michaela
He means very little to me-
on a regular, uninterrupted day.
But when he talks to me,
he is maliciously welcoming.
He's toxically enduring
and determinedly warm.

It's possible Stockholm Syndrome,
it's definite injustice.
Sweet, sweet injustice.
Sweet interruptions.
My sweet bitterness to his sweet nonchalance.
And then;
sweet realisation that I may not be alright,
but merely distracted.
I always thought I was doing okay.
 Mar 2015 Isabelle Perla
Michaela
I said your name today.
I thought I said your name.
But I must have said something else.
Because it did not hold the same significance and pain.

The words on my lips were as foreign
as the names of places you've been.
It didn't fill my head with foam-
didn't flood my lungs with ocean.

And the miles and seconds and days and months
did not crush me under your smile.
Because I said your name.
And it was just your name.
And it has lost its charm for a while.
How alien it felt after a year of being trapped by those three syllables.
Have you known the winter days?
Late February falls like frigid snow
Merciless undertow
Of evergreen and alpenglow
And grey ground pavement walking
Like Grocery shopping
and weak chai tea
Moonlengths from all family
And surrounded like strawbury temptation,
Late night lamp light contemplation
And drowsy-dampened mornings
Grey glaze of diluted boring
Spattered over every orifice
Charcoal eyes, platonic kiss.
Pull your bow to shoot and miss
Tell me all this is is what it is
And I will tell you, “okay”
(but you know this isn’t what I wanted)

Hide the roadsigns
Blur the guidelines
This is how I love you

Have you known the winter days?
Late February fell like fire on hell
And shook me from my sleep
Ashes cover snow-banked heaps of rubble
I slice my wrist on the sharpened stubble
Of your half-assed beard
(this is how I bleed my dear)
This is how I bear my soul
******* smile
And dominoes
Carnation cults
And buried bones
(This is how I build your throne)

Hide the gravestones
Burn the rainbows
This is how I love you.

And have you known the winter days?
Late February fallen like Lucifer to the underworld
We both knew I wasn’t altogether that typeof girl
But we pretended anyways
Alcoholic halo haze
And foreign intervention
Of somewhat insidious intention
And the legitimate logistical question
That defined our discourse on fear
(this is how I think my dear)
This is how I speak my mind
All that grey
Those missing roadsigns
Smoke and soot and
Blurry guidelines
And Gravestones gone
And rainbows ash
(and we are never coming back)

This.
This is how I love you.
 Mar 2015 Isabelle Perla
Michaela
I tried to create something from this,
but my piano did not bleed.

The sound that came out meant nothing in my ears.
It spoke of nothing and asked for nothing
and reminded me of you.

And now you're going to leave,
but my piano did not bleed.
 Mar 2015 Isabelle Perla
Michaela
I won't cry about you.
I won't write about you.
And maybe you won't exist.
 Mar 2015 Isabelle Perla
Michaela
It could be a million people.
It could be my demons.
It could be the problems I'm not dealing with.
It could be the people I'm trying not to think about.
It could be the thing I need to hear most.
It's almost definitely not you.
But, heaven help me, it is.

Because you are my demons.
You're a problem I'm avoiding.
You're the person I try not to think about.
And you have become the voice I need to hear most.
So on the other end of this phone,
screaming at me like an angel,
it almost definitely is you.

And, heaven help me, I'm picking up.
Away from the white Stork feathers
Often seemed to be gentle breeze
On Kans grasses
Superficial white clouds
Small dinghies on the river
To navigate the life

Far away on the bridge
The Silent movement of the Brahminy kite
Southern breeze blew
Tilting the tall grasses toward the North
Leak of the light fell into the Kans,
Into the Soft green grasses

Sunlit mingled with light fog
Seek heavenly feeling
Without the knowledge
The lips Stir of

Walking beside the river
Barefooted
In the air Kestrel's mystic music
The river running with full of chime

What are the forms of you!
Thee bind me with deception!
What a Strange tune!
What those thirsty words!

So that I draw your image
Moving away from the shadows
Soft light blended with the estuary
Away,
Little by little,
To see your face
Like the rig of Ship

Behind the path
A magical dream
Seems like a White Shirt  
That I had left in the Kans grasses
Last night I had a dream
You still loved me
And it was
The most beautiful dream
God has put in me.


F.Z.**N
I was dark and it was bright
the moon shades were at half tyne
and I wept
I felt confused but I carried on
through shedding dapple bright.

And it was very dim in the forest
of palms and swaying trees
but still I carried on
bravely as if he were still alive.
 Mar 2015 Isabelle Perla
Emma
I sit here in the rain
in puddles of my own tears
it's been years, 17 to be exact
since i saw you last
I can hear what what I think is your voice,
here in the rain
it washes away the pain
maybe it's my mind playing tricks,
but I think i can hear your laugh
sitting here in the rain
the mud is thick
so here I will sit
till it washes the pain away
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