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the jersey breeze
cultivates her curls,
as they bounce in the crisp air.

she’s the reason you can’t sleep at night.

the day breaks
into song when you meet her gaze;
she hums along, her voice
soft - like red velvet.

against the green
wallpaper in her room
she looks so beautiful

you wonder if she can sleep at night.

the night falls, and
in your rest she grows a foot taller,
becoming wise, like the book of poetry
you leave by your nightstand.

her friends know
that is she the one
who spreads herself thin to block the sun when it’s too hot.

she sleeps without closing her eyes.

her moments blend into the next ones:
she is so refreshing - even when she is thirsty;
and the acorns fall from her pockets;
and the deer come running;

and we all sleep soundly.
I said i am sorry but you never forgive me.
I hurt you for you banished me
Some past draft... never really had the guts to finish it.
Shawn Callahan Apr 2018
Oh, how would it be...
to have a body
you never touched?

Would my skin not flake away?
Would my eyes stop pacing...
Only to avoid you?

Soft skin is always missed
But the throbbing between my thighs
Will forever stay; unforgotten

I wish to feel pleasure
Where there was pain
As he touches my curves...

Six months with someone new
And my my mind still disappears
In the blue sheets.

Oh, how would it be
To have a body
You never touched...
And Instead he did.
Maxx Feb 2018
.
maybe you're outer space,
maybe you're the ocean,
all I know is that
I have an unquenchable thirst
to explore you to the endless.
maybe its because of your vastness,
maybe its your seemingly infinite depth,
but like space and the ocean
I can't help but hold my breath
the further I go into you.
you invite wonder
you invite adventure
you leave me dreaming
endless
Maxx Feb 2018
step into my shop of horrors
shack of nightmares not yet had
take in the aberrant, appalling aesthetic
i have dead sun flower
sundries that smell
of tangerine
i have the idol of
severed head and
exposed breast
i sell milk moon shell and
amethyst
incantations
ghost scrolls
student loans
buy my dreadful wares
and, please:

come again
Maxx Dec 2017
an army of naked sycamores
like skeletons- they march,
for the porcelain forest
reclaiming their art
one leaf at a time
the golden hour of sundown
like an indigo pacifier
silences the landscape in
preparation for the great horned owl's decree
Maxx Feb 2018
my heart, a peach
softens
with each heart break
until it is too ripe
and it must be discarded
at least
i never
sealed it in a can
and kept it hard
love is sweetest when we no longer desire to consume it
cry
i
am
not


anymore
an
man

my fists fly

because
i
am






...












his breath was hot
in
my
face
my hands
around his neck
pulling him closer
we lick his face
me and my
demons
what
has
he
done
this taste for his flesh
my grip tighten around his throat
gasping for air my lips
**** his

his last breath
was mine



how refreshing
what life was this
anyway

she was watching me

from the shadows she was watching
no knife to conceal

what was this dead body
there was no life
in
him

his breath was her constant death
what burn ban effcting me
he will be wheel barrel bait
we will burn him
in
that
drum


under the old oak tree


come my love
smell
the scent


this is what it smells like
if
you
don't
repent

from heaven
we were
sent

we are so confused
you don't belief me
sniff
the
blue off
my bruise

start sniffing
she made
me
?
















...
..
.
found this
in
my
...
..
.
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