Inamorato’s Moon

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Moonlight path sparkles,
Guiding my hazel eyes,
Evening winter walks,
By the sea’s side.
Waiting here,
Torture,
Salty air,
Reminds,
Rhythmic waves,
Taunt,
Inamorato’s lullaby.
Moon tries,
Soothing,
But, he’s gone again,
Weary is the traveler,
Who stole my heart.

Real

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Nirvana not an interest
Megadeath
Metallica
And a little
Simply Red
Those are the voices
In my head
Inside my dreams
You once asked
I’ll admit freely
Me? Childhood trash
That’s real, Baby
What keeps me smiling
Chet Faker’s
Beard and beanie
He plays with meaning
Sizzles my morning
You want red hair
My heart’s cracked
Worthy of repair
I cannot handle
One more longing stare
Either I feel right
Inside your mind
Or get me off
This wild ride
Slash is tight
I’ll wear his hat
Nothing else
Now think about that
Friday’s musings
Truth revealed
Play with me
Just keep it real

My Discovery

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So, appearing simple,
And fated months before,
I, fearless cragswoman,
Listened to my inner voice.
Knowing when I entered,
Hessie’s Trailhead,
I’d consider life’s possibilities,
Determine my future goals,
Pass through time’s memories.
Not realizing I’d feel your essence,
Beneath a canopy of discovery,
I’ve held back, cowardly,
Yet to fully disclose, findings.
Now, if I don’t take you inside,
I fear, I’ll lose you,
To the calls of regret,
Maybe, to fear.

A Walk Worth Taking

The only task I do not dread
A walk it seems
Provides a clearing, for my head
Whispers of lessons deemed important 

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Copper tones of yesterday
Found living within my world
Glistening in enormity
My reaction, forlorn

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Living nearby among protection
A self induced fantasy
Seemingly overtakes
Crimson delicacies, established

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What separates them
Measured, as very little to the eye
Created for a similar purpose
A wild fortress continues to divide

***

At first glance, I let them be
Begin again, walk decisively
Nothing happens without an opening
Allow fate to draw the cause

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 Turning back
Fuck that, now she’s where she belongs

My Suppression

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Every word behind my chest,
Desires freedom,
Tonight.
Alas, once again,
I’ve censored who I am,
And forced reality to stop,
Immediately.
Leaving the ache placed,
Upon my breasts,
An endless continuation.
Suppression hurts,
Terribly,
Ceasing the pain,
Simple.
Yet, I refuse,
Leaving myself,
Paralyzed.

Sometimes my poetry is too revealing, so I fade before you, entirely too bashful to continue. Instead, I leave you this poem. I apologize.