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 Sep 2013 Kimberly Clemens
Morgan
She killed herself every night while she slept
So waking up always felt like a miracle
And she was in love with her misery
With a cigarette in her left hand
And her right on the steering wheel
She cried to the rhythm of the windshield wipers
And drove through the rain without a destination
Snapping pictures through the rearview
She organized them from last to first
She likes recalling memories in reverse
She says it's less painful to watch
when you know that in the end
She makes it home again
*Well as long as you make it home again
 Sep 2013 Kimberly Clemens
Morgan
I just need a reason
Any little reason
A crack in the sidewalk
That collects snow in the winter
And grows flowers in the summer
Or a letter on my dresser
That's never too nostalgic
But always makes me cry
Anything
To feel like a human
With a purpose
Something to look forward to
An ice cream truck
Or a stranger's daily smile
I'm not talking about a "sign"
I don't need any divine intervention
I'm not talking about a present
Wrapped in a bow and left on my door step
Or a boy singing desperately to my window
From outside my apartment
I just need something to remind me
That to be in love with life
Is always possible
No matter where I am
Cause right now I'm feelin pretty bitter
And I just don't wanna lose my heart
In the traffic of this cluttered city
 Sep 2013 Kimberly Clemens
Morgan
insomnia
depression
anxiety
maybe they're the cause
of my distraction
well slept
well kept
and secure
maybe they're the cause
of my attraction

love is not finding your ideal self
in the chest of someone else
this isn't love at all
*i'm sorry
 Sep 2013 Kimberly Clemens
Morgan
Where do you put your arms
as the night swallows your bedroom?
Do they dangle over a rib cage,
warm and separate from you?
And is the rhythm of her breath,
Rising and falling unsteadily
Your favorite lullaby?
And where do you put your hair
as the morning sun intrudes?
Do you let it fall all down your back,
Or do you fasten it to your skull
Put on your glasses
And brew coffee to cut the
Nostalgic
Lingering
Scent of fall?
And where do your thoughts meet
When your mind races?
Is there a taste stuck on your tongue?
Or a conversation stuck in your head?
Do you breathe my name when
you can't find sleep?
I'd always kiss your eyelids
And rub your back...
Do you remember that
And do you miss me?
Do you ever miss me?
Sometimes I miss you so deeply
I can feel your absence in my lungs

Do you miss me at all?
 Sep 2013 Kimberly Clemens
AJ
How can I be so tired?
I want to get out of here.
I want to sleep.
I want to get out of here.
Mary Had a Little Lamb for Dinner
trudging through mud waist-deep
these lungs are billows of smog and
these hands are brittle claws
world-breaker, I am fate unseen
through the clearest of lenses,
and the most acute of baubles
simple phrases caught in raw
and searing throats
with these ideas, my brain molds
an even more bothersome equation
tlp
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