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"unfiled" poems
such a burden to open your heart to someone new, to lay it out splayed out on the table like unfiled papers undocumented in time or place only case cos slow and steady wins the race i’m scared i’m scared that you will see me as i am all my bulges and bruises and lines and decide that i am too much or not enough to fill the space between your arms i’m scared that i won’t have enough to say, that you will tire of me and i’ll be stuck in the purgatory between your mouth and your heart i’m scared to love as i have loved before, butterflies so new and strange, turn to fire and smolder for years at a time, grieving what should have could have would have been had i just been different you make me want to be better you make me want to let go of the insecurities that have dwelled in the burning depths of my gut for so long and be myself you make me forget that i’m shy that i’m not enough that i’m too much hold me close kiss my palms and i will hold you tighter goodnight, handsome
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Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 5:01 AM UTC
bedtime story
Your words fall on deaf ears. Your voice I choose not to hear. Your breathe wreaks of stale beer. Get away from me no one wants you here. Away from here years ago & today. I wish there had been a way. To teleport or astroproject so I didn't have to stay. Towards someone good to connect. Of me people continue to neglect. Evil is who I deflect. Beauty is what I reflect. Loneliness is what I get. My eyes saw. What you did broke the law. Because of you ma kicked out Pa. Every fiber of your being has a flaw. Your morals are baked & your evil is raw. Your hands are like a devil's claw. Unfiled & unreported. My thoughts real & undistorted. The "mom" I disowned is disheveled Her house pak rat hoarded. Piles of filth & stench. To know your face. Ruined my past I can not replace. Here at home of crimes there was no trace. Police said low priority case. Heaven has been a disgrace. You've been banned from that place.
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
********** Whispers
piles of paper over my head cover the box I lay in, to do not, is to cause dread, become the administative burden, to carry around, but never get carried away, trundle, then bundle cellulose fibre in a fundle, measuring the fundal height of... the pregnant pause, each time I am supposed to pick up the phone, can't go it alone, standing up for   somebody else, who is unable                         actually disabled, "Just Like Someone Without Mental Illness Only More So"   drawers of receipts climbing over one another to be fed to the                            shredder, unfiled file folders, holding older paper dreams, paper woes, Origami folds, of the forgotten projects, cranes, phone receivers, and say isn't that a heart...my heart, clumsy feet, clumsy fingers, cluttered mind, to much paper to bind, up and hold together, the edges of the paper cuts, that bleed the last of the free dreams, the nice dreams, the two week vacations dreams, buried under reams, of aging paper,                         no point to be a paper chaser,                          set the phaser on ****                           and send it with the will,                             or ... send in the clowns, there has to be clowns,                               maybe I'll get around to it next year.
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Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 11:42 PM UTC
Sheafs