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 Oct 2014 svdgrl
rained-on parade
There are stories in your eyes.

I never told you how
sometimes I fell asleep
with the thought that you
were perhaps the moon-

always disappearing
with the dawn.
I would awake with
nothing
but the shape of you
on my bed and the
gloom of you on
my skin.
 Oct 2014 svdgrl
hannah
glass houses
 Oct 2014 svdgrl
hannah
AND MAYBE THE REASON I'M STILL LATCHING ON TO YOU IS BECAUSE I KEEP HOPING YOU'LL CHANGE YOUR MIND. THAT YOU WILL FIND YOUR WAY BACK TO ME BECAUSE  WE MADE A HOME IN EACH OTHER. AND WHILE I MADE MINE OUT OF STONE I WATCHED YOU CONSTRUCT YOUR GLASS HOUSE. AND YOU STILL BLAME ME BUT YOU WERE THE ONE THROWING STONES. AND DARLING I KNOW YOU THINK IM SO MUCH MORE BEAUTIFUL ON MY KNEES BUT THE SHARDS ARE DIGGING IN LIKE THE WAY YOU USED TO SAY YOU LOVED ME.
(hko)
She shot the tiger . . .
You know the one that wears the yellow eyes

She shot the tiger . . .
The one that's been hiding behind the smirks and lies

(It's okay , he'll be living in a poem
he's writing today . . .
It's not that good but he's hoping
that it will trend anyway)

Hey ! Hey ! Hey ! Ha Hey !

She caught the tiger . . .
Using all the black and white stripes
as his disguise . . .

She caught the tiger . . .
Thinking he could just blend right on in so he could hide

(What a Mistake!)

She shot the tiger . . .
Really blood is just paper thin

She shot the tiger . . .
You know it's not so funny now
when the hammer comes down upon the rim

And you were willing to let it go
on and on . . .No ! No ! No ! Oh No !

She shot the tiger . . .
And now he's bleeding
and the thought just occurred
that he might die !

She shot the tiger . . .
You know the one
that wears the yellow eyes
 Oct 2014 svdgrl
Surrogateone
There is a fine line between love and hate
Hate is a wasted emotion on someone you dont even like
But that fine line
That fine sweet sweet line of nothingness
Is where you now reside
 Oct 2014 svdgrl
Adithya Gowda
With a pencil you wait
Hand on paper
To behold and make still
That point in time
Covetous mind

Each stroke a bar in the cage: eternal vacuum
Each stroke a transformation; a window built
On your graying walls ; covetous mind.

You bear the child of perception; gestating
Each glimpse a sad caress; a plea
Asking every detail to stay behind.
Each birth of salient insight; a tradesman
Haggling with the ravages of time.

It's a wonder how
Each line, each shade
Is a mirror; reflecting

Cradles and tears; and
The miracle of learning
How to ride a bike
That first love
And the first child.

That full moon in a clear sky.
That mouthful fare from a mother's hands.
Those conversations of cuckoos
Hidden from those who pry.
The love radiated from parched land
When messengers from teeming clouds are let fly.
And a touch on memory bereft;
Of a lover's hand.

A collage of senses that flows
To the captive hand
Held by you; covetous mind.
And as I sit here, contemplating
On why we draw
I realize, what I do
Is a conspiracy lead
By mine own
Covetous mind.
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