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 Feb 26 alexis
Blue
Last night I dreamed
That we were back together
We kissed and made up,
And it was all better.

I wrapped you in my arms
The way I always wanted to
I kissed you on your face
To show how much I loved you.

We walked home together
Just like we used to.
I miss that a lot,
But not more than being with you.

Then this morning it hit me,
It hurt when I realized
None of that was real,
and then I cried.
For my first and only ex...
I really thought I loved you
 Feb 26 alexis
Blue
You
With your words
The Knife.
You.

Me
Knowing and not knowing,
Afraid and clueless.
Me.

Us
A thing that used to be,
The dust on the mantle.
Us.

We
Will never be the same
The blood that was spilled across the floor.
We.

This crime scene filled with pain and sorrow and regret.  The murderer and the victim one in the same—but also separate.  Two hearts that both dance to the same miserable song.
Oof...  I wrote this one a while ago...

(Also this poem is dedicated to my father, like a like a lot of my poems)
 Feb 25 alexis
Evan
and see what happens.
Prayers and whispered wishes
To Greek gods, false gods,
Rulers of fictional realms
And still prayers echo
For strength, love, compassion;
You hold Hera in your soul,
She never bowed before mortals.
Nor averted her eyes from Zeus,
Not when storms thundered
Not when the skies shook
Lift your head, child of time,
Look them all in the eyes
And know that you have a goddess
Coursing through your veins
You are infinite, golden, ageless.
They will write songs about you
And men will weep as you leave

You've no need for prayers
The archaic Mythologies
Were well depicted ventures of Human
Spirit to verily present acts of the absolute Nutness
An astute of a compelling question Still
Much relevant in today's lmplicit
Deconstruction of  Committing
A moral Excession.

Old Greeks came to a betwixt paradox when compairing
the two ulterior motives:  
~ a completely mad passionate love
~ a sharp cold blooded oportunistic love
 Jan 2019 alexis
Bryan Lunsford
She’s beautiful as beautiful gets,
As the nature of her beauty is the beauty of nature’s equivalence,
With every movement, she’s special and different to no ends,
Yet, to her, her being beautiful is anything other than common sense,
With scars sliced up and down her arms and wrist,
It’s evidence this beauty has cried, has wondered, and reminisced,
As it’s evident, she’s tried, has stumbled, and even wished,
Someone would take her beauty for what it really is--
And see the most beautiful woman that has ever lived
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