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I'd like to think we're somewhere different.I don't have to hold you when you're on my back. A great wave is coming but I wouldn't be there to watch it. I'd watch flames roll over feathers but not take your hand when you'd find yourself in the same trail. No matter what you'd find that path and each time you'd ask me to follow with your hand turned up to greet mine. Without a staggering leg I'd turn away. The motions of waves ruin your path though. A storm approaches and birds are falling to it's power. Before this there would be times when you'd ask if I was single. I'd say no and a little glint would stir up to reach your mouth and later your legs when I asked you to walk with me. Those summers were easy and my mind could have taken on any one, I could have been Al Gore or Kim Jong-il I was that easy to mold. A war was stirring up but further crisis's were far off and in our platonic love we never reached anything more. Sex was never an option, you were an easy friend but not a lover. I was stronger but you
InflictStabbing the paper wall till it broke into a savaged forest too crushed to burst out a life.
Sun is weeping but you sit in your hotel room with spinning thoughts of tomorrow, but don't you
know it is tomorrow. The mocking bird is showing it's bones and the little girl lifted her skirt to reveal the scars
of mother earth. Dying like halted soldiers this moving being is walking back and forth
wishing the world upon someones feet. To scream and ache at the sorrows of the past, to their tiny regrets that
are burning welts onto it's ribcage but it's moving. From it's upward and downward motion you are breathing and each
movement is too shock too damned to grope a solid reassured day that your fears growing and your heroes never were ones.
The lose of a heated battle still leaves marks on the walls, and the wrinkles of your crinkled face
when your parents would fight. Drums are sounding, lies are spiraling toward you and the suffocating answers are
immersed in the water. Begging to be closer
Into this moonHe sat on the car seat hung his head and cried. Broke bits of a dead leaf that he had while traveling and with every precaution placed it in his pocket. He leaped out of the car but the leaf crunched as he walked, this boy was only 4. He lost his parents tonight in the middle of the woods. The tears dried up quickly with winter's wind stealing every bit of the sadness from him. He saw blue and red lights and even heard some screams but his thin wispy blond hair kept his attention. He stared soullessly into the woods, it lured him in more the higher he went up the hill. Rocks couldn't brake his spell and the braking branches of the terrifying Runners wouldn't sway him off his track. Snow reached half way up his leg, but it's white and moonlight blue colors disturbed the peace of warmth he had. This boy of 4 years old was messy and blood was spinning down his arm, the Runners croaked and curdled at his smell, but this annoyance was unflinching to the ring leader. The boy started running
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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