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"closing" poems
If you were the sky Then I'd be the sea And when you shined bright It would reflect in me. When you're at rest Then I am steady. If you wanna get rough I'm always ready. Past closing at the bars If you show me the stars I'll open right up And cast them out far. And on the darkest night If you won't shine a light. Then I'm silent alongside you Until you feel right. We'll meet at the horizon Where lovers will stare And wonder with passion Why they can't meet there. And you'll share me a kiss As bright as two suns. When they meet in the middle I'll know the days done. And I can tell that's your way of saying to me. Goodnight my love. If you were the sky and I were the sea.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 1:57 PM UTC
If you were the sky and I were the sea.
There comes a day in your life where you meet someone special… You try so hard not to admit it but you just can’t hold back the way you feel… I like you. You get all those feelings… Those butterflies you can’t stomach, That heart rate you can’t put at ease, So baby … Sweetheart with the beautiful smile. Sure, I loved sleep But dreams couldn't compare Not to talking to you until my mind screamed for rest And the butterflies in my stomach settled Darling with the endless amount of love… your love could fill the oceans and climb the tallest trees, but could your love belong to me someday? Be given to me? Can you feel the way I do for you? & Boy, sometimes I tangle my own fingers Closing my eyes, losing myself in a daydream Where your voice is more than an echo in my mind And I even believe for a few seconds you're still here Lover, who writes me poems, You should know I write you too. I write about you until my fingers ache And still after that I keep writing Because there's just some people you could write about forever And baby, you're one of them. And boy who played me a song, Sweet sounds bow down to my ears, And the way you play your guitar… & the way I daydream about kissing your lips... I can’t wait until the sparks of your tongue burn my mouth send electric shocks through my body Cutie… with the funny jokes, You make me laugh. Today you made me laugh, like you always do, you’re the only one who can now a days. Baby, with those sparkling eyes, Your eyes haunt me whether I'm dreaming or not And what haunts me more is the fact that I can’t have you now because you ruined it It hurts to think about it, So I have to block you out. Play your songs to someone else, Read your silly lines of heartache to someone else, And go find… someone else.
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Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
I kinda sorta think I'm falling for you
There comes a day in your life where you meet someone special… You try so hard not to admit it but you just can’t hold back the way you feel… I like you. You get all those feelings… Those butterflies you can’t stomach, That heart rate you can’t put at ease, So baby … Sweetheart with the beautiful smile. Sure, I loved sleep But dreams couldn't compare Not to talking to you until my mind screamed for rest And the butterflies in my stomach settled Darling with the endless amount of love… your love could fill the oceans and climb the tallest trees, but could your love belong to me someday? Be given to me? Can you feel the way I do for you? & Boy, sometimes I tangle my own fingers Closing my eyes, losing myself in a daydream Where your voice is more than an echo in my mind And I even believe for a few seconds you're still here Lover, who writes me poems, You should know I write you too. I write about you until my fingers ache And still after that I keep writing Because there's just some people you could write about forever And baby, you're one of them. And boy who played me a song, Sweet sounds bow down to my ears, And the way you play your guitar… & the way I daydream about kissing your lips... I can’t wait until the sparks of your tongue burn my mouth send electric shocks through my body Cutie… with the funny jokes, You make me laugh. Today you made me laugh, like you always do, you’re the only one who can now a days. Baby, with those sparkling eyes, Your eyes haunt me whether I'm dreaming or not And what haunts me more is the fact that I can’t have you now because you ruined it It hurts to think about it, So I have to block you out. Play your songs to someone else, Read your silly lines of heartache to someone else, And go find… someone else.
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47
Thank you ~ for a life not to trade blessings, in spades tight spaces behind laundry doors packed closets and open drawers gator tails, tarnished brass cracks in kitchen sliding glass wet towels, withering plants foundation filled with carpenter ants buckets piled with shoes and tags village clothes and saddlebags peeling paint and broken walls ****** seats in bathroom stalls clogged pantry frigid rooms table scribe and carbon fumes comfort capsules empty tanks broken limbs from children’s pranks **** finger double tongue long goodbyes and sidewalk dung cluster flies chavie’ clique accompanying the hypocrite cracked back and hidden smiles chalk on board with mr miles atomic wedgies closing doors wrotten eggs and open sores jaw jack nasty folk dinner calls for pig in poke penny pinchers double dip yellow mouth and silver tip brown nosers thick red tape paper cuts and pimple nape gallivants so out of norm the joy of life… in basic form
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Jan 14, 2017
Jan 14, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
cultivation of gratitude
in all my years, i can truly say you are my biggest regret i learned to turn the cheek learned to forgive, but can't forget *i have to accept you hurt me and got away with it i've got no closure but i have to finish closing these wounds* i went through the dark, the storm i'm something else now i'm a different being i’m not the same i don't like it i can see it on other's faces i know they don't like it either so i just detached i'm an island now purposely deserted alone, and sometimes lonely i pray this isn't the eye of the storm i don't have any more rounds left in me
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Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 11:33 PM UTC
trying
*Darkness falls across the land The midnight hour is close at hand Creatures crawl in search of blood To terrorize your neighborhood And whosoever shall be found Without the soul for getting down Must stand and face the hounds of hell And rot inside a corpse's shell The foulest stench is in the air The funk of forty thousand years And grisly ghouls from every tomb Are closing in to seal your doom And though you fight to stay alive Your body starts to shiver For no mere mortal can resist The evil of the thriller* © Michael Jackson
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 6:03 AM UTC
Thriller [Rap performed by Vincent Price]
Dusting off the rabbity that squirrely tempo anxiety, closing in with night. The irresistible pattern the irrational illogical fight a battle with one’s discipline, mirroring our might. I make it home a fluttering belly twirled and muttering, I tell myself tis alright! The damage done, and everyone, I’m just like them and millions more succumbing at the Devil’s door. And the taste, the burn, the healing calm, the shaking and the thinking gone. Knock one back, slam out another night is early, rock it brother, Tying on a swilly swirling buzzed-out brain and mind a twirling. . . “Ahhhh…” I feel better now, exhilarated, exasperation falls to stout resound; I pour again and knock it down! “Ahhhh…” Spinning now, not to say I’m spun but choosey choosing several a pun I see myself an accomplished one! Yes, that’s it, that is me, look upon with thoughts of glory yank open the freezer for glass that’s hoary. . . How cool am I? certainly not boring all night I’m here, pouring, pouring. . . Buzz subsides, thoughts slow too, lurid leering, slobbering swearing, stupid actions and nothing new? I lose the bottle, I lose my shirt, ***** on myself, pass out in dirt. Another night of drunken hero, time that’s wasted for kingly Nero. But who am I to judge myself? *I’m hardly worse than anyone else?* *
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
Alcoholic
closing curtains of my day letting sunset have it's play ...i hope you stay oh yes, at-least till it's late
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
sunset wishes
We made love under a tree crazy me and obsessed thee Ah! holding each other so tight at the peeking pale twilight. Caressing you from the nose, sliding way down to your toes; I made the chills run down your skin kissing your cute trembling chin. Locking your soft lips with mine I used my tongue to give you a sign. Closing the eyes, you went with the flow You ripped my pant off and dragged it low Excited by your aggressive touch, I slowly removed your clothes. And when I undid your red bra you drew me closer and moaned ‘aahh’ You smelled sweet like the fresh smiling flowers And you were all mine for quite a few hours Your rapid hot breathe lured me more and more I bit your ******* took our emotions to the core. Delicately I went down and licked your **** that seemed to have aroused you a bit. Then you scratched my back with your nail I was happy to see my moves leaving a trail. Thus, it was time to go for the ultimate bliss So I pulled you closer and gave a passionate kiss Gently I resided my hardness in you to quench our lust Up and down I moved but tenderly at first With each swift push, you moaned loud by seeing your amazing charm, I was wowed. Time passed as we kept letting ourselves free And this is how we made love under a tree.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 8:54 AM UTC
Adult poetry (18+)
lady craighead played the blues on a stand-up samick in the ***** room along side the parsons project and squabbling dogs and night moves stairs creek up the mezzanine trek wool sheets slide on finished floors little angels play late into the seventh (a closing match nearing the midnight hour) croaking toads and cicada sing in the blue moon musty smells and mothballs settle deep in the vault the kettle boils and cat coils as the pump house rolls its heavy drawl the red phone rings and bird clock sings (behind the ruddy stall) a sleeman variation of the ruy lopez employed heartily by the incomparable master jack marble toast burning wringer wash churning chris craft running near the old carp canoe rooster calls and west wind squalls rustle through the porch screen door chicken *** pies and rogue flies linger a rocker chair placed near the  sepia face (softened by the intricate frame) donkey in tow (with a fastened *** maggie in her dreams of green tambourines the nocturnes reflections and whispering gospel bells tractors pull on the grinder stone horses lay still in the mid-day sun a trump card is fingered at the furnace click (crosswords and puzzles are next!) while the sparrow *and that **** rabid fox* are drowning deep in castles well
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Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 10:20 PM UTC
Mulholland Lane
Creeping voices in the night Shadows lurking out of sight Haunt me till the morning's light No sleeping for me tonight Looking at my bedroom door My feet barely touch the floor Something whispers down my core Something that I can't ignore Melted candles in my hand Things I would not understand My hope slips away like sand This was not what I had planned Slowly walking down the stairs Feel a breeze sweep through my hair Shadows lurk; in silence stare Naked thoughts are all I wear Out of breath I walk outside Shaking fear that builds inside No more places left to hide Guilty thoughts of mine collide Drenched in coward's blood and fear I lost those who I held dear It's all blurred, nothing is clear Shadows from my past appear As the silence speaks to me Gets too loud it deafens me My past will not leave me be Pain and torment I foresee Dazed and drawn by these lost souls Broken thoughts I can't control Ghosts slip through this gaping hole Darkness has taken its toll From the darkness dreams come out Nightmares flailing all about Closing in, I hear them shout It's the end, I have no doubt "What the hell is it you want?" They retreat and me they taunt One emerges, tall and gaunt "Your life we will no more haunt." "You have paid for your wrongdoing," He tells me, his voice booming "This is now your redeeming You are free." he says smiling I look at the rising sun I no longer have to run My sentence is served and done The ghosts have finally gone.
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Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
Wake
He watched the moon, As it became immune To his galaxy eyes. Silver liquid flowing, The night's come to a closing, As he mixed his 'sky dye.' At least, that's what the stars said, As each one rubbed his head Goodnight. Colored images glowing, His eyelids began lowering, As he, again, was forced to fight-
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Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 12:25 AM UTC
'Sky Dye'
have you ride it, teach you how to move your hips, as it slide it, between your lips until you hide it, press against entrance -  guide it deep inside the tip brushing up against your insides pressing your walls apart as it glides rolling your hips as you roll your eyes I tighten my grip on your hips and then you slide like a wave against the current our bodies astride rocking back and fourth, whining side to side watching you ride before closing my eyes - enjoying the joy ride as I come satisfying my craving to be inside deep inside, feeling it pressing against your stomach and you love it grip your thighs the look in your eyes reads divine goose bumps running like a up-n-down your spine our universes converse then our stars collide
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Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
Explicit: Joy Ride
death wants more death, and its webs are full: I remember my father's garage, how child-like I would brush the corpses of flies from the windows they thought were escape- their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies shouting like dumb crazy dogs against the glass only to spin and flit in that second larger than hell or heaven onto the edge of the ledge, and then the spider from his dank hole nervous and exposed the puff of body swelling hanging there not really quite knowing, and then knowing- something sending it down its string, the wet web, toward the weak shield of buzzing, the pulsing; a last desperate moving hair-leg there against the glass there alive in the sun, spun in white; and almost like love: the closing over, the first hushed spider-sucking: filling its sack upon this thing that lived; crouching there upon its back drawing its certain blood as the world goes by outside and my temples scream and I hurl the broom against them: the spider dull with spider-anger still thinking of its prey and waving an amazed broken leg; the fly very still, a ***** speck stranded to straw; I shake the killer loose and he walks lame and peeved towards some dark corner but I intercept his dawdling his crawling like some broken hero, and the straws smash his legs now waving above his head and looking looking for the enemy and somewhat valiant, dying without apparent pain simply crawling backward piece by piece leaving nothing there until at last the red gut sack splashes its secrets, and I run child-like with God's anger a step behind, back to simple sunlight, wondering as the world goes by with curled smile if anyone else saw or sensed my crime
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22.4k
Death Wants More Death
death wants more death, and its webs are full: I remember my father's garage, how child-like I would brush the corpses of flies from the windows they thought were escape- their sticky, ugly, vibrant bodies shouting like dumb crazy dogs against the glass only to spin and flit in that second larger than hell or heaven onto the edge of the ledge, and then the spider from his dank hole nervous and exposed the puff of body swelling hanging there not really quite knowing, and then knowing- something sending it down its string, the wet web, toward the weak shield of buzzing, the pulsing; a last desperate moving hair-leg there against the glass there alive in the sun, spun in white; and almost like love: the closing over, the first hushed spider-sucking: filling its sack upon this thing that lived; crouching there upon its back drawing its certain blood as the world goes by outside and my temples scream and I hurl the broom against them: the spider dull with spider-anger still thinking of its prey and waving an amazed broken leg; the fly very still, a ***** speck stranded to straw; I shake the killer loose and he walks lame and peeved towards some dark corner but I intercept his dawdling his crawling like some broken hero, and the straws smash his legs now waving above his head and looking looking for the enemy and somewhat valiant, dying without apparent pain simply crawling backward piece by piece leaving nothing there until at last the red gut sack splashes its secrets, and I run child-like with God's anger a step behind, back to simple sunlight, wondering as the world goes by with curled smile if anyone else saw or sensed my crime
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64
have you ride it, teach you how to move your hips, as it slide it, between your lips until you hide it, press against entrance - guide it deep inside the tip brushing up against your insides pressing your walls apart as it glides rolling your hips as you roll your eyes I tighten my grip on your hips and then you slide like a wave against the current our bodies astride rocking back and fourth, whining side to side watching you ride before closing my eyes - enjoying the joy ride as I come satisfying my craving to be inside deep inside, feeling it pressing against your stomach and you love it grip your thighs the look in your eyes reads divine goose bumps running like a up-n-down your spine our universes converse then our stars collide
0
Apr 20, 2018
Apr 20, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
Explicit: Joy Ride
i've tricked them once again i made them believe that everything was fine. ******* I'm good, even after all this time. i'm too good at lying to myself, I'm too good at pushing away the pain. and even tricking myself into believing I'm okay. you're telling me to breathe but my throat keeps closing. you tell me to sleep, but every night is darkness without dreams. how am i supposed to write, without spilling blood on the page. but this is my job now, and i need a decent grade. like forcing a bird to sing for food, you're wringing me out. my mind dripping to the floor, i can't create beautiful things anymore. i'm writing everything over again. repeating repeating repeating myself. what do you want me to say? that everything will be okay? you want me to make my own light, give myself a nicholas sparks ending.   because now I'm exposed, I'm standing in front of you all. and you can practically see the blood dripping down my wrists. with the world standing behind me, its hard to keep my focus. "make it pretty" she says, "don't let them see you're already dead." i can't turn tears to holy water, or my own blood into wine. i can't create beauty, staring Darkness in the eyes.
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 12:50 AM UTC
Will Write For Food
Can you feel it Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift Soft Moonlight Dust Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ****** Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust So gentle, as a touch to the skin An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins Awareness of self stirring into the constellation Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait Overheated friction surrendering without debates Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn A Cheshire moonrise Always a sacred communion given in surprise Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full Paired upon, as lace meets wool Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool Stars In Exile Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke Relentless bodies bathing under the moon Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper Heat consumes the interior of the temple Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon Temperatures rising not a moment too soon June slamming into summer’s heat A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast The galaxy and its spicy passion A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
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Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
A Kiss Among The Milky Way
Can you feel it Shh, allow the galaxy to pamper your body, blanket the essence of your mind, bit-by-bit Travel on a higher awareness to understand the galaxy’s gentle gift Close your eyes and allow your mind to softly drift Soft Moonlight Dust Illuminating the night skies, given warmth of its inner trust Centered in the sky, a star abates for its enlighten ****** Kindred minds to enrapture, as souls physically adjust So gentle, as a touch to the skin An inner space to conquer, there an exploring craving begins Awareness of self stirring into the constellation Bodies attuned beyond the stretch of imagination Savoring on the flavor of the alignment sweeten taste Desires igniting an inferno, the heat of its flames refusing to wait Overheated friction surrendering without debates Runaway yearning weakening in the presence of fate The ecstasy of the moonlight’s dust felt, abiding to the crack of dawn Emotions of the elixir slowly withdrawn A Cheshire moonrise Always a sacred communion given in surprise Masked feelings hidden behind the stars in our eyes Sprinkles of pixie dust as the moon becomes full Paired upon, as lace meets wool Interwoven and tenderly spun on a galactic spool Stars In Exile Twinkling for eyes to glimpse beyond the earth’s smile Canopus to Antares, oh how you make me shine Closing my eyes, coveting your point as I’m making you mine Settled and glittering as small diamonds binding in the sky A wondrous elopement to experience in the blink of an eye Soft whispers to the ones that shoot right before they fall Such a beautiful and breathlessly cadence to wish under them all The Gift Of The Sun’s Stroke Umm, shooting stars kept me awoke Relentless bodies bathing under the moon Caresses, touches, entwined souls echoing the note of its weakening tunes Sweeter and sweeter, deeper and deeper Bodies fueled, hot as a heater, bodies climbing steeper and steeper Heat consumes the interior of the temple Sweat of life, as movements come together and then disassemble Elated, sedated, dipping in a cool blue lagoon Kisses under the sun on a beautiful afternoon Temperatures rising not a moment too soon June slamming into summer’s heat A merriment of a sun stroke basking in the glorious feast The galaxy and its spicy passion A gift to the world to enjoy in any unbridled fashion
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The air feels like falling action, It feels like this is coming to an end I can see the curtains closing And I don’t know why I haven’t cried or Why my heart feels like it’s made of stone Maybe this isn’t the end! Maybe it’s a new chapter! A rising sun! A see you soon! (How should I know to say goodnight and not goodbye?) But if this does end If it’s a closed book A setting sun Never see you again (How should I know to say goodbye and not goodnight?) I know we tried, I know we loved with full hearts, I know it hurts to say goodbye.
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Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
Goodnight or Goodbye?
Buildings seem shadows (surrounding) closing like doors corners of a soul
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 9:49 PM UTC
Shadows
He soars high, floating in her wake Inhaling every detail of her flowing grace Her brushes of touch, causing him to shake Delicate weaving hearts of leather and lace Inspiration sails high, with her drifting in his mind Ripples from deep emotions, she elegantly paints Closing his eyes, entrusting her, flying blind Together, one with the other, interlinking chains Flickering fates of fireflies under stars aligned Precious moments in time, worlds collide A rendezvous in the Milky Way, by design Consummating souls kiss passionately, ignite
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Apr 19, 2017
Apr 19, 2017 at 9:40 AM UTC
Melody of a Muse
As the melody sings a tune to your heart Like a drug it Soothes the pain Closing your eyes to vision peacefulness Leaving your troubled day behind you Your mental lays in another world Long Soft Relaxing Music
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Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
Long Soft Relaxing
In the cusp of closing night, I look into your weary eyes; once outshining city lights. I see no way to realize the healing of this blight - I venture to make a phoenix cry. Remedy of such mythos might, might just prove unjust lies. Chance restoring your ere vacant sight - fighting soul’s primal guide. As any chance to restore my bride, binds our fractured lives. ...No words to describe affliction already decided.
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Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 3:14 PM UTC
The Blinding Bride
She left Reno in a satin slip the color of hot coins pouring from slots, wearing chewed-up tennis shoes, mirrors multiplying her, the marquee burning out letter by letter, a hush pressed between her teeth as if saving the last note. I followed, a gangly shadow, mother’s voice in my ear: "life is not a freeway exit." But she was the exit. She drove west through a glittering throat. In Tonopah she was a waitress, red stains on her wrists, sleeves tugged low, coffee pouring thin as blood. In Barstow she was a sun-bleached Madonna, halo blistered, mouth lit in stained glass. At a gas station in Needles shimmering into a coyote’s shadow and slipped behind the pumps. Then movement along the fence, low, quick— gone again. Casinos blinked like electric relics. Truckers called her sugar, greedy hands counting her ribs as if she was the paycheck sweating in their fist, but she slipped away each time, her silhouette already moulting- a serpent skin, a smoke-trail, a saint’s shadow burning off the wall. By Malibu, the night had softened to velvet. The pier at Zuma leaned into the Pacific like a broken bridge. She sang to me— low, cracked— then let the slip fall. Her body cut into the dark tide, no disguise. I waded in after her, ankles bruised by rock. Water lit with jellyfish, each pulse a warning. I stopped where it deepened, felt the pull take hold. No exit left, just the Pacific’s mouth closing around her.
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Sep 1, 2025
Sep 1, 2025 at 8:08 PM UTC
Dust Madonna
Today not all of our mistakes are failures Today I'm closing the door on the things we keep behind our teeth, the ways we never learned how to be soft, but always tried our best anyway this is a tribute to the lost sleep the nights I keep marked in tallies on my arms, the letters I keep locked up in a dark drawer, where maybe something besides moths and regret will eat away at them. Today, not all of our thoughts are broken today you take me out of my skin and I learn how to dance; the rhythm is choppy but I follow it anyway, after all we are only testing the waters here we are only stargazers awaiting some grand cosmic miracle, we are waiting with our hands in our pockets for something big to happen, we are falling in and out of obsession chasing strangers around and around in circles, throwing our fists in the air claiming "not everything is lost", slowly coming to the realization that it's also true not everything is found. Today you don't know what you're looking for but you can't stop searching the horizon, like maybe if you peer long enough, your brain will slow down enough to process the harsh thump-thump, thump-thump that tells you you're still alive that tells you you're still here that tells you you're still waiting And my fingernails are digging into my palms now from the suspense of writing and re-writing my name onto fresh pages, crumpling and collecting them in the bottom of waste baskets along with half smoked cigarettes and last night's rain, because it is rare that two paths will cross in this world with anything more than a brief flash of recognition, it is rare that anything better can be captured before it slips down through the cracks; but that thought was me eons ago that was me in someone else's skin today I'm putting nets out to catch the things we throw around & never keep, I'm writing your story into my daily script & keeping a list of "to-dos" before the big event; tonight I'm alone and I'm too busy to look out the window, maybe the stars will flicker or maybe they won't, but regardless I'm still counting my heartbeats to know that I'm here (still counting my heartbeats to know the time I have left), I'm still patching this wound up with fragments of could have been, reminding myself that not all of our hearts are broken, and not all of our moments are failures.
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC
not everything is broken
Today not all of our mistakes are failures Today I'm closing the door on the things we keep behind our teeth, the ways we never learned how to be soft, but always tried our best anyway this is a tribute to the lost sleep the nights I keep marked in tallies on my arms, the letters I keep locked up in a dark drawer, where maybe something besides moths and regret will eat away at them. Today, not all of our thoughts are broken today you take me out of my skin and I learn how to dance; the rhythm is choppy but I follow it anyway, after all we are only testing the waters here we are only stargazers awaiting some grand cosmic miracle, we are waiting with our hands in our pockets for something big to happen, we are falling in and out of obsession chasing strangers around and around in circles, throwing our fists in the air claiming "not everything is lost", slowly coming to the realization that it's also true not everything is found. Today you don't know what you're looking for but you can't stop searching the horizon, like maybe if you peer long enough, your brain will slow down enough to process the harsh thump-thump, thump-thump that tells you you're still alive that tells you you're still here that tells you you're still waiting And my fingernails are digging into my palms now from the suspense of writing and re-writing my name onto fresh pages, crumpling and collecting them in the bottom of waste baskets along with half smoked cigarettes and last night's rain, because it is rare that two paths will cross in this world with anything more than a brief flash of recognition, it is rare that anything better can be captured before it slips down through the cracks; but that thought was me eons ago that was me in someone else's skin today I'm putting nets out to catch the things we throw around & never keep, I'm writing your story into my daily script & keeping a list of "to-dos" before the big event; tonight I'm alone and I'm too busy to look out the window, maybe the stars will flicker or maybe they won't, but regardless I'm still counting my heartbeats to know that I'm here (still counting my heartbeats to know the time I have left), I'm still patching this wound up with fragments of could have been, reminding myself that not all of our hearts are broken, and not all of our moments are failures.
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62
I'm suffocating. But I don't need your help, I can handle my throat closing, no don't call 911, there's no reason to. I'm choking. But I don't need your help, I can handle the mucus that blocks my throat, I can spit it up just fine, so just keep on walking. I'm coughing. But I don't need your help, I can handle myself doubled over in pain, with my chest hurting as I try to sit up straight, so just ignore me hacking up a lung. I'm breathing. But I don't need your help, I can handle hyperventilation without my inhaler, I don't have to breathe properly to live, so thanks for just leaving me on the floor. I'm dying. But I don't need your help, it's not like I have no energy to get my inhaler, you can totally just run out of the room panicking, it's not like i'm scared too or anything. I'm angry. And for some reason, you can't figure out why. So leave me alone. I'm fine now. I can handle myself. I don't need your help.
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 4:24 PM UTC
I Don't Need Your Help