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 Oct 2014 Savannah Jane
Kelsey
the average human
describes their heartbeat
as a thud-thud or a few
rough pats to the chest.

i fall asleep with my ear
pressed up against your
chest. all i can hear is the
echo of a captain yelling,
"let me sink...let me sink..."
i ask you how you would
describe your heartbeat,
you point to the ship
in the bottle mounted on
your father's bookshelf
& faintly say
"the glass bottle keeps the
ship from sinking, completely
blocking out the captain's wish
to learn how to breathe
underwater because air just
isn't doing its job with keeping
him alive."


your break up letter to me
went a little something like;

"you were built in the fire,
stop acting like you burn in it.
you were never made to be fragile,
you were never made to be my glass."


my plead for you to stay
went a little something like;

(20) Missed Calls

your final goodbye
went a little something like;

a thud thud to the pavement.

& my final goodbye was
cracking open a bottle on your
headstone & standing in the sea
with the water rising up to
my knees, with a small ship in
the palm of my hand, a dunk
underneath the tide & a faint
whisper, *"breathe."
 Oct 2014 Savannah Jane
Bunhead17
There's nothing more attractive
Then a faithful man
#Real man are faithful
Nothing says
"I love you"
More than
An
Anxiety attack.
Sometimes I just
Wish I couldn't
Feel at
All
 Sep 2014 Savannah Jane
a gale
Fire
 Sep 2014 Savannah Jane
a gale
“And her eyes,” he said
“They burn through me
like wildfire
every time her eyes
meet mine.”

“It’s not like fire,” I sighed
“You’re just in love with her
which makes everything
about her more amazing
than it really is.”

“Love?” he laughed
“What do you know about that?”
he asked as he looked at me
like wildfire, I thought
if only he knew

a. gale
She never did learn to love.

*Only how to run.
Each step takes me further from you. I will circle the earth before I return.
i read today
that
sometimes
during
autopsies
they find ink
pooled
in the lymph
glands
of people
with
multiple
tattoos
and
i got
to
wondering
if they
opened
up
my
brain
would
it
be full
of the
ink
that
runs
through
my
veins
the ink
that
drips
and
seeps
into
my very
soul
aided
by
the word
i
inscribe
and
etch
upon
my
bones
the ink
that flows
in a
long
continious
scrawl
eminating
from
my
poets
pen ..
 Sep 2014 Savannah Jane
Urmila
Pour your heart out to me
I can't
Why?
*You'd drown in the very first drop
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