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▪●☆●▪
Swirls of verbiage
begin to settle.
My wish..
that they land
to connect a thought.
Overflowing as
grapes cascading atop
sides of vessel
butter cup yellow.
Fruit of the
darkest purple persuasion.

I have visions.
Ribbons of colour.
Movements of flutter
Wet paint on pallette,
waiting for a
canvas to present itself. 

Shambolic as to how to
put it all together.
Can almost sense
the fit,
yet unable to develop
the arrangement.
The words, 
the vision
the pigments are there,
on the tip of my mind.

I wonder if, in the event
it all came spilling out,
I would be brave
enough to reveal.
Begin to heal.
If my canvas of words and
colors could describe.

Maybe then, it would all melt
together, becoming the
black of all colors, the no color...
allowing me
to begin anew.

▪○☆○▪

Copyright © 2016. Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved
This poem addresses issues
while recovering from
Traumatic Brain Injury.
TBI
There are little worlds inside of me
Orbiting around my brain constantly
These worlds collide with eachother
Many tiny worlds exploding within me
Their remnants drape my fibers
Course within a stream of blood and ideas
Sometimes these collisions hurt
Sometimes these collisions bring joy
There are little world inside of me
They make me feel so alive
I hope they never die
Shared on Hello Poetry on February 3, 2016
Copywrite under Bianca Reyes
All rights reserved
Blah blah blah
Enjoy!
I still fantasize over you, every night, i fall asleep thinking about you.
Your eyes, your hands, your lips and the color of your skin.

I fantasize over you, in a chastest and most prudish way.
I imagine your eyes on me and your heavy breath.

I visualize your movements in my head,
The way you're walking and your presence which no one can deny.

In my dreams i remember your body, your arms.
In my dreams  i can smell your perfume.
And this smile, oh lord this smile...

I still hear your voice which play in my head like a melody but your words cut as a knife.

You cut my heart in hundreds pieces, and you throw them in the deeps of the ocean with your darkest secrets.

All i wanted was to fix you but you choose to break me instead.
O.P
 Feb 2016 Baris MacTavish
Aeerdna
February is like one of the darkest nights,
a sleep full of nightmares,
it is like a bad, old cigarette,
filling up my lungs with
smoke
that won’t let me breathe.

February is like a muddy day,
anywhere I go it makes me feel miserable and filthy,
it makes me feel like a child whose birthday everyone forgot about,
February is like the monster under the bed,
it gets me scared and makes me cry
and I cannot sleep at night.

February makes me want to run away,
it’s like a bad mother who keeps on hurting her child,
it’s like a storm when you’re walking home after a hard day,
it's like the worst sunburn or
the worst paper cut.

February is like an endless Sunday
it’s like the saddest clown,
the most painful song,
February is like a cemetery at night,
like a day in a ****** war.

I have the same menu every February day
wine for breakfast and wine for lunch
and  some more wine for dinner..
I still can’t forget, I still can’t forget
the way you left.
I'll always love you anyway.
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