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Deanna Oct 2014
You see the word
And think of ***
Lust
Passion
For some reason
This comes so easily to me
I don't think twice
About ****** intimacy

But the other intimacy
There is another intimacy
And it makes me cower
Run
Hide

To be honest
I try to avoid
Even thinking about it
Emotions are not
One of my strengths

We're lying on the couch
Lazily playing
With each other's hair
I've stolen your shoulder
As a pillow
And my fingers
Find their way
To the stretch of skin
Right behind your ear

And this feels
Infinitely more Intimate
Than *** ever could

I have welcomed
Strangers inside of me
But I could not fathom
Stroking a stranger's ear
I can't tell if this adequately conveys my point.
#g
  Oct 2014 Deanna
Jenni
Her eyes,
Like many others,
Are the color of a turbulent sea
Her voice,
Like many others,
Is gentle, yet forceful at the same time
Her words,
Like many others,
Bring kindness and laughter to the world
Her thoughts,
Like many others,
Are full of demons that she rarely shows
Her mind,
Like many others,
Is a medley of music and poems
Her heart,
Like many others,
Sits squarely in the right place

The little things about her,
Individually,
Are nothing special
But by some act of serendipity
They have coalesced
And I am thankful every day that they did

You are so much more than a collection of adjectives
You are my best friend (and probably my soul mate)
Kaitlyn I basically wrote you a love poem because we're a little bit married already. I'm sorry it's not the best but it's pretty late and for some reason I decided that I should do this now.
  Oct 2014 Deanna
Gigi Tiji
A poem is born
and suddenly
I am grateful
for my misfortunes
  Oct 2014 Deanna
kaitlyn-marie
It’s the color of her dress the day that you first met her
“I’m not bold enough to wear purple,” she said.

It’s the color of the smoke that comes out of your ears when her touch sets you on fire.

It’s the color of the sweatshirt she stole from you freshman year of college and never gave back.

It’s the faded color of the asphalt beneath your feet on 7th street where you proposed.

It’s the color of the dog that you share. You wanted to name him Ash, but she said that would be taking the easy way out.

It's the color of her matching bra and underwear set. Every woman deserves to have one in her favorite color.

It’s the color of the blanket that you wrapped around her when it was too cold in your bedroom.

It’s the color of her eyes if you look closely enough. Although they got this way because of old age, you still think that they are just rare enough to make her beautiful.

It’s the color of her hair as she is lowered into the ground: breathless and leaving you behind.

It’s the color of the cloud over your head when you wake up to an empty bed every morning and remember that she’s never coming home.

It’s the color of the sky when it spits at you, reminding you that life without her is as pointless as an umbrella when it’s too windy outside.

It’s not the color of your breath when you exhale for the last time. In that moment, you were yellow.
  Sep 2014 Deanna
Gigi Tiji
her warm eyes of
wonder and kind skin
kindle
a crackling aortic inferno
further fed
by a voice that feels
like water going down
but like a fireman
from Fahrenheit 451
sets my words aflame
with kerosine kisses
I can't and
I won't try
to ever tell you
what this is exactly
because we never really know
where we're growing
but this is different
this is painless
and it tastes like
nothing my tongue
has ever known
and it takes me to places
I've never been

I hadn't realized
just how parched I was
until she filled up my cup
as she poured out her heart
and I drank it down
Deanna Sep 2014
Am I shaking
from the cold
because I hate myself too much
to find a blanket
or from the cold
that only lives
inside my head?

I have this craving
for getting lost
for getting out
of this prison of a mind
I have this need
to get ****** up
and forget about reality.

But I had this need yesterday
so yesterday
I got ****** up
so the day before
I got ****** up
and the day before that
I got ****** up.

My mason jar is almost empty,                                            
tolerance is such a *****.
Deanna Sep 2014
and I'm bleeding again
because I've forgotten
how to feel again
and I'm trying to remember

how do I explain
that I'll never be okay
can I really let you in
to a house that's burning down?
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