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Two weeks in a swirl of color. If I turned back you shook me,
yelling “Do you know what you’re saying?”
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I tasted blood. The dim plastic tape lost itself like a mind
in a failure, forever on stop. Dust hung in the air,
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Baby black bears curled against my chest.
Somewhere, I heard yo-yos going off.
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The hot metal sparks as the pink light falls to the floor, And I stand in the dark, the armored, gleaming gargoyle
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and beat against the current
under a strange orange sky.
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Topaz will still hang in the sky.
Aquamarine will rush under the cars.
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And the Prince sliced chocolate cake for us with his helicopter,
golden dragons slithered from camp to camp,
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where you always had plenty to say
and the orange sunrise washed your lies of otherwise
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I thrived by staring at my limits
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Bees thread my pillow.
Bees dust my mind.
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No point in propping my fingers against it,
Not with one-color birds scattering
by Arovell
36 lines, 1 comment,
on Jan 6 11:00 PM. In Life
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My sunset-colored hair melts down my shoulders,
Drops in dancing coils down my stomach, my back,
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spluttering, as you swept dust from my wings,
to splash and fry and electrify
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I was there in your nightmare,
Caught silver-handed
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These desires to freeze the aurora borealis to my lashes
And the fire to my feet,
by Arovell
32 lines, 2 comments,
on Oct 21 2:05 PM 2008. In Hope
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Until I stretched my tortured, spin-sliced body so high
My fingertip touched God’s,
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When did I stop praying—
When was there no longer someone to save?
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Together with a girl in auspicious red,
A Juliet who’d failed to die
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slowly pinging
through two deep sets of stiff heartstrings
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He zooms in on my little plates of gold
Or she thumbs the fears festering inside them—
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Posted this on facebook, now i'mma post it here too =)
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I see yellow lemon light in front of me,
Spilling on the floor, in shards like glass,
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even as i sit pearled in the hot water,
the steam burning my face like misty phoenix wings.
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blue as your favorite color, and as black
as the eye you would have liked to give me,
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I just passed by one moment
of mutual destruction
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Morning light blue on my options—
Fleeting divisions
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the emotional blanks filled with chocolate,
my bursting, unemboldened
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with blue and purple flares
rising up from it,
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A phoenix formulating,
Frothing like the mushrooms I envisioned—
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Steps.
Not much of a poem. But I will not delete it.
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I search for the girl who has never.
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I feel the ringing metal weight of my spine,
The copper dread.
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