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Conor Letham Aug 2014
Opening my hand,
you read the lines
rooted in my palm

before

taking the fingers
to crook them.
They splinter

new

spines, grow
tall steeples
ringing out

like

church bells,
or wind chimes
once your fingers

touch.
Madisen Maureen Aug 2014
When I think of you I get shivers down my spine.
It is getting kind of hard to walk in a straight line,
and my body is getting weary.

Tired of the lies that I can clearly see through your
unforgiving eyes.
Times when we fight, but have no will to survive.

It is times like those that I realize that maybe,
just maybe, we were never meant to be.

But I can't live like this, not knowing what
could have been.
- m.s.
cynosure Aug 2014
Your words crawled through my auditory cortex like caterpillars, preventing me from hearing anything other than the inflection in your deep voice. As your body inched closer to mine, they took residence in my chest cavity, building chrysali that hung off of my ribs making it more and more difficult to inflate my heavy lungs. They cocooned themselves as I too wrapped myself up in you. Suddenly, your lips were on mine and your hands were counting the vertebrae down my back, scaring the insects from their resting place, resulting in chills up my spine. The newly emerged butterflies flew out of my sternum and up into my throat, longing to be closer to you. But then you pulled away and they instantly died, leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth.
Hannah Anderson May 2014
I wake up
a shiver runs up my spine
because you are not there
to calm me back to sleep
to lull me back to dreams

I shiver because you are gone.
Scatts May 2014
there's a lot of holes in my life
for example

my waist takes as little space as possible;
a curve is formed in each side
in order to be fitted by
somebody's hands

and i would like them to be your hands

between every bone of my spine
there's a little pause pretending to shape
a path long enough to be toured by
somebody's fingers

and i would like them to be your fingers

when i stretch my neck i find
angles in my collarbones
a piece of architecture to be traced by
somebody's mouth

and i would like it to be your mouth

but your hands hold the curves of other waist
and your fingers wander other road
and your mouth traces the lines of other architecture

and i have all of these holes

and there's a hole in my bed
and i would like to have two
Kevin Eli Apr 2013
To choose to listen to the voices in my head or the whisper in my heart.
Blinded by my own hand most of the time.
The roller coaster turned into a merry-go-round.
I knew where I had ended up, but I didn't see the start.
My thoughts are off and running again...

Round and round,
I feel this creeping monster run down my spine and gnaw at my center.
I am terrified of it.
I let it go on forever.

...I finally looked inside and asked,
"What the hell do you want from me?"

"I just want you to know that it's me, which is you.
Just trying to tell you that you need love, that's the truth."

I need to stop crucifying myself to feel alive.
It's selfish.
Kelly McCarthy May 2014
Across
mountain
peaks
like
the
spikes
of your
hair
my fingers
brush,
careening off
glaciers
and sliding
down hidden
slopes.
Curved and
crossed
as the bones
in your spine,
smooth
and
strong
like
the
gliding
wings
of
a hawk.
The tawny-colored
feathers
echoed
in each
iris.
A look,
haunting.
Chills
and
weightlessness
invade
my body
curled
next
to yours
in perfect
sync
to your
heartbeat.
Where
waterfalls
overflow
our emotions
capsizing
our lonely
individual
vessels
amid galaxies
colliding
each
other
on a
spiraling
journey
of
passion.
The heat.
Bronzer
than the
sun in
Summer.
My love.
My moon
and
my stars.
My one
and
only.
Just
two
out-there
planets
together
forever.
Undiscovered,
untarnished,
undefiled
by humanity.

A secret whisper
from
the
nebulas…

*I
   love
            you….
I've never been more in love.
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