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Yasi Dec 2014
i never felt at peace
in the large white church
with marble pieus
and stain glass windows
that scattered rubies and emeralds of light
across the skin of my thighs

i never felt at peace
on my knees
with head bowed in silence
eyelids fluttering as i pretended to pray

but the first time
you took my hand in yours
the loudest silence filled my ears
as the voices in my head stopped their chatter
and i wonder if anyone has ever told you
that your voice
is their church
that the sound of your laugh
is their holy water
and that when you take their hand
they feel as if they are being forgiven.
Yasi Oct 2014
everyone always says
its supposed to feel like fireworks
when he finally says those three words
for the first time
on a park bench, in his car, at a fast food restaurant after your senior prom
but no one ever tells you
that it'll feel like fireworks
when he chokes out those three words
for the last time
and the explosions will get louder and louder
as you watch his car
drive away
down your street
and then suddenly

haven't written anything in a while but i wrote this in math class
Yasi Aug 2014
sometimes i see you kissing other girls
in my sleep
Yasi Aug 2014
this morning i woke up
with mascara smudges
and a dry throat
and salty lips
i sat on a hard wooden kitchen chair
as i read an article about the life cycle of a star

i learned that the bigger and brighter the star
the shorter its life,
the brighter it burns
the less time it has before an explosion destroys it
from the inside out
crushing it into pieces
and propelling them into the universe

as i read
i found myself remembering the day you told me you loved me
so much
you could just explode

and i wonder if maybe this whole supernova explosion thing
applies to love
because our love was bright and consuming and fast
and ended in an explosion
that destroyed me from the inside out
crushed me into pieces
that were propelled into the universe
Yasi Aug 2014
our love is like
salt in the wound
glass on the pavement
needles in the sand
Yasi Aug 2014
i watch the little red seatbelt sign
flicker off
the man next to me is asleep
he has a british accent
and smells like hotel soap
my ears pop
and i look at the clouds
funny how clouds no longer seem
so solid when you get so close to them
(i guess people are like that, too)
a lady in a polyester red blazer
brings me ****** coffee and smiles
i don't think she wants to be here
i smile back
its just me
hotel soap guy (now snoring loudly)
my notebook
and the clouds
this 53 minute flight
is much too short
and i don't want to come down
i wrote this on a flight last week for no reason
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