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Let me take you to a place where the sun is shining.
Where there is no misery or agony.
Let me guide you home and get you out of this darkness.
Take my hand, I’ll hold you close.

Smile.

Come here, let's sit on our own.
There is nothing you should fear.
I swear I'll dry your tears.
Open your eyes, you're not alone.

We’re together in this.
I’ll scare your demons away, infect them with my light.
I’ll be there to catch you when you fall apart.
I’ll end your fright.

Laugh.

See the colors all around.
See the moonlight, see the stars.
Hear the silence, hear my voice
Let it be your only thought

Open your heart.
I'm coming in
I'm cleaning everything
Let yourself be free

I promise I won't ever hurt you
I’ll be your hope,
Your light
Your savior

I’ll pick up the pieces of your broken heart,
Glue them back together
I’ll keep them safe inside.
Let me keep you warm at night

I promise I wont let you down
Hush
Turn the lights back on
Feel my touch.

Take a deep breath, smell the flowers
enjoy the silence.
Lets lay here just a few seconds
Because there's no anger or violence

No pain or blood.
Can we stay here for hours?
I’ll wipe out every sign of pain you’ve ever had
I’ll end the sorrow that’s in your heart

Let me take you to a place where the sun is shining
Follow me.
Where there is no misery or agony
We’ll run forever

Let me guide you home and get you out of this darkness
Lets hide together, no one will find us. Not now or never.
See the moonlight, see the stars
See the raindrops as they fall

Hear the silence, hear my voice
Take my hand I’ll hold you close
Feel the wind, feel the peace
Feel the tears as they dry on your cheek

Keep on going, you're strong enough
Look at my smile
Listen to my words
I promise I wont let you down
I've more New Year's behind me
now that I have gotten old
My next one's in the tropics
I just don't like the cold

I used to party hearty
I wouldn't get back home till five
Now, I pass out on the sofa
My wife checks if I'm alive

I remember  I went drinking
I got drunk riding the bus
When I told my friends the story
they said, dude, that wasn't us

I told them yes it was,
We all stayed out till late
They informed me of my error
I had passed out just past eight

New Years was  Lombardo
New Years...it was **** Clark
Two giants of the evening
Two men who left their mark

Now, incentive to stay up till twelve
To see who will Jenny McCarthy kiss
well, I liked her better as a playmate
now, I couldn't  give a ****

The morning will still get here
Whether I stay up, or not
New Year's eve is nothing special
I spend it with my wife (she's hot)

We cuddle on the sofa
Fall asleep as if on cue
With our tray half full of finger foods
We're asleep by ten, not two

I wish you Happy New Year's
My best wishes all are sent
If you stay awake past midnight
Call, and tell me how it went.
 Dec 2012 Xavier Salti
August
2009
 Dec 2012 Xavier Salti
August
Cooped up in a mini van
Feeling the tips of your
Fingers
Drumming on the back
Of my neck
© Amara Pendergraft 2012
 Dec 2012 Xavier Salti
Damaré M
You ever wish that you were a wild animal?

Sounds a bit indecent, but reckoning the sense of freedom, order, and understandings
;then, you'll look at it through a bird's eye

Doesn't it seem like animals have no issues at finding their purposes?
They seem to know exactly what is it, in which what they are living for
Oppose to us humans, they seem to be less frightened by death
Do you think animals have religious beliefs?
Some divine stranger they must let control their life.
Or are they responsible enough themselves?
And/or only have faith in what it mean to live
...Just live

The things in which they used to do is still their tendencies today.
Give me one lion that don't hunt anymore?
One pack or tribe that is ran by female?
One chimpanzee who think swinging from trees is out of style?
One shark who think blood is disgusting?
I never met a gopher who wasn't hip enough, who didn't "dig"; digging wholes
Every cat I know rub their skull, ribs, backbone, tailbone and tail; in one motion against other creatures for what I figure as comfort.
Shepherd, Yorkshire, or hound; however, they all get on the mailman's nerves

Humans... We just seem lost
Not knowing where we belong
Steady trying to figure out right for wrong
Attitudes always going up or down
Need to much to crack a smile
The slightest ordeal can make us frown
A successful human is visioned as having access to the whole world

Do you ever see a honey bee left behind in a swarm?
Or a polar bear climbing a tree when it's warm?

Their world has no critics
No trends
No high expectations

Just eat, sleep, and ****

Is that it?
Or there's more to it?
Two separate lives
But I'm influenced
Some try to convince themselves,
this is the rarest of sensations
as they walk along the edges of a place
where their name is whispered by a spring
that flows love to all.
Still, we wonder
if it takes a truly perfect heart
beating softly
inside of a self-built cocoon
to be inspired,
hear the call.  

Does nightfall build the pressure felt
of those who fall
until they lower their expectations
find they are climbing mountains
hoping to catch
the silvery moon?
Is it not obvious that these hearts
will travel fearlessly
always bowing their heads
and closing their eyes,
in hope true love
will blossom soon.

I wonder if they have folded their hearts'
around an ache
no one is able to see.
Or if this is only the beginning
of recognizing myself
in their mirror.  
This rare sensation I feel
walking along the same edge
is merely erasing each step
fearlessly taken.
The silvery moon
has not....
grown any nearer.
Copyright @2012 - Neva Flores - Changefulstorm
 Dec 2012 Xavier Salti
Lucia
You used to trace your finger
up my spine.
Across my jawbone.

Dancing across my lips,
lightly down my cheeks.

You would trace the line of my collarbone
and into the hollow at the base of my neck.

You would lay your head
against my chest.
Listen to my heartbeat.

Now, you walk into the room
and I can't even look
into the eyes I once got lost in.

I was so full of love and trust.
But you walk into a room now
And all I feel

Is a winter's chill
so cold
that I will never warm from it.
This is how an angel dies,
a strange temptation caresses me;
and I scream my hatred of the one who created me.
I'm lost in the dark,
littered with bruises that even I fail to recognize.
Constantly I will blame myself,
while convincing others that I don't need them.
I say things like,
"I have done it on my own,
I need to do it on my own."
The smoke quietly rises on the spokes of which I stand.
The brighter ones tell me of my guilt,
of why I don't deserve what I yearn for.
So once again I am a little girl,
reaching out to all of the appealing men before me;
so desperate for their attention.
Silently I go up in flames,
just as urgently I am dowsed with water.
hastily I fall to my knees,
begging for redemption from the one who created me.
*this is how an angel dies
 Dec 2012 Xavier Salti
Brady Xav
Is it really the same song and dance? Or can there be a new tune? … A new beat to move to, a new song to hum.
Will coexistence bring me to the one I’m supposed to exist with? You’re there, I’m here. Who are you? Am I your one?...When do we know who’s the right one?
Feelings of elation followed by feelings of question…. Did I say too much? When is enough, enough?
Do you wake with the same smile you fell asleep with?
Did he make you laugh so much your face hurt?
A hurt that you wished would never leave.  
The only gift he gave me was happiness.  
Your eyes don’t wander and you don’t speak about others, because you know he’s yours and you’re his. We never spoke about this, and we liked it like that….
You’ve traded your crunchy peanut butter for his creamy one. Morning breath never tasted so good waking up next to him….
He bears no flaws.
He breathes deep and your head rises on his chest.
Pitter, patter.
His heartbeat resonates while you sleep. Is he thinking about you, dreaming for you?
You change the person you are, without changing at all.
You want to be better.
You don’t need that last hit or that last bump. You’ve traded this high for the high you feel when he lays his head in between your thighs. A feeling better than any high.
He calls it home. He’s home. Together you’re home.
You feel it rolling off your tongue, but you’ve never said it. It crosses your mind, but you let it go.
Touching, touching. We’re always touching.
Butterflies are child’s play compared to this feeling.
He makes me quiver and I make him hard.
How many 11:11s have passed when his face rushes to your mind?
You don’t need to wish anymore, you’re lucky enough.  You’ve sworn off wishing, because you’re not greedy.

Until:
the tingles lessen and the touching weakens and the smiles go missing.
His chest is no longer your comfort, but you’ve become used to the pillow.
He doesn’t care if he eats peanut butter or not and he asks me to brush my teeth.
You quiver from the coolness of the room and he goes to the bathroom to *******.
You want it to roll off your tongue; you want to let him know.
But we’re not touching and my thighs are not home.
11:11 comes but two times a day.
I begin wishing and hoping and dreaming.

Guard your heart.
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