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 Sep 2013 Erin-Taylor
r l
The Writer
 Sep 2013 Erin-Taylor
r l
Poor little girl
She just liked to tell stories
But no one would listen to her story

So she wrote it all over her arms and legs

Funny how people started listening
I don't even know about the title,I'm too lazy to come up with another. I'm not sure if this or something like this has been done before,if it has...oops. It's not the best,I may work on it more,maybe later,I'm not sure
**** me
ill go willingly
your smile is so lovely and suddenly you're stabbing me
allowing you to ****** me, and its alright that you're hurting me
It's the end of life and I can feel your knife
screams in the night and you can feel my fright
lips pressed to your hallow chest , you promised you'd love me best
its getting darker and blood drips like water
I can hear you cry, baby don't die
slowly filling with regret and my last breath you can never forget
 Sep 2013 Erin-Taylor
Sydney Rain
Sweet, tender kisses finally land on my lips. My whole body goes on auto pilot when I wrap my arms around you and I kiss back. Over and over our lips touch, gently. You pull me in closer and I do the same. One last, long kiss before we pull our lips apart. I rest my forehead on yours and we just breath. You pull me into your chest and hold me.
"I love you" escapes your lips
I bury my face into your neck. "I love you too." I mumble into the collar of your shirt. My first kiss...our first kiss was butterflies.
 Sep 2013 Erin-Taylor
Jay
What Cost?
 Sep 2013 Erin-Taylor
Jay
They wonder why teenagers often seem to lose hope
When they shove the idea of perfection down our throats
As we get the idea that in order to be somebody we need to grow up
Because we're too young to know how to fall in love
And we're too young to know how to handle our stuff
Because our hormones control us
The therapists are asking
What in your past affects what's happening?
But it's honestly not the past, just the here and now
Seeing even the brightest of smiles turn into frowns
Taking blades to our wrists when the sun goes down
All we're told to look for is the inevitable doom
Someone tell heaven to make room
We're sending up some new angels soon
Parents are wondering how they made so many mistakes
Promising they'll do whatever it takes
But life isnt that easy, you can't heal bullet wounds with scotch tape
So if you happen to be looking for a quicker fix
This isn't it
This numbness won't be healed with your first aide kit
It's going to take more than a sorry toned in the voice of *******
Someone call the surgeons, see if they heal broken hearts
See if they mend broken families that tear us apart
Someone call the firefighters,
See if they can put out the fire
The one that burns every night
The one that scorches demons into the frames of your mind
Telling you it's okay to drag that blade
I still have my scars
But they don't come from exposed body parts
They don't come from bruises, blackened by poor excuses
And also literal ones. Ask me why I seem so far
From your reality
You don't seem like you understand me
But I guess I'm just another "Teen"
But that's what you can't see
People and animals aren't meant to be classified
Someone's fur may be softer than mine
Jealousy comes from dark parts of our minds
Bringing hate that erupts from volcanoes frozen in time
I figure you might understand if it rhymes
Because the liquor has burned holes into your mind
You've created this poorly formed shrine
Directed toward false Gods, burning your throat like wine
And I'm standing in the middle of WW3 today
It's me against my demons and they're on their way
Scream into my ears until I become deaf
And all I hear is your words telling me to crave death
But it isn't like depression is something you can play with
Does it count if sometimes my feelings shift
Is it okay if my numbness comes more often than yours
Or if my blade is hurting less than yours
If pain isn't what I crave, it's really love
Give me something to love without forcing barrels of guns
Into the mouths of innocent children in the hands of innocent killers
We're staring into the soulless eyes of the gravediggers
My graveyard shift isn't up yet
If you think this is a suicide note you're so very wrong
I just want to let you know what's going on
My head is a labyrinth and I continue to get lost
But I made it myself.
Yet at what cost?
 Sep 2013 Erin-Taylor
Tim Knight
squeeze you to read you,
the pores that pour out hidden punctuation
that defines and makes and creates pauses for
you to look beautiful in.

there are two velux windows somewhere
in the world that look out onto chimney pots
and rooftops and birds next to each other looking
out over a flight plan that they'll fly together.

in pub seats we'll slide into and across,
placing coats on empty chairs so not to be stolen
and you pause. And out comes a list from behind a breath and a
colon: everything you wish to achieve in a year.
coffeeshoppoems.com
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