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Derek Mar 2014
disproportionality.
the heart does not match the mind.
minding.
mindful.
mindless.
i've gone mad trying to feel
what i am supposed to feel.
feelings.
feeling.
fearless.
Derek Mar 2014
3
she broke it off
because he couldn't
h
  a
     n
        g.
Derek Mar 2014
twinkle twinkle little star.
the girl floats with such grace across her bedroom floor.
she is a fairy, or maybe she's a bird.
dancing with leisure, the faults in her eyes stand strong.
how i wonder what you are!
she doesn't understand why her passion
doesn't make her happy anymore.
she ties her hair in a bun,
gliding from her comfort zone only to meet disapproval.
up above the world so high.
and the only way she thinks she can feel is to get high,
so high where there's no oxygen
and the atmosphere knocks her out cold -
so she doesn't have to feel
lonely.
like a diamond in the sky.
there are no diamonds in the sky.
only tears of despair and desperation and
grief.
twinkle twinkle little star.
her arm hangs above her head.
and the numbness dulls the pain of the cuts,
scattered across her appendage.
how i wonder what you are.*
"i am a fairy" she says - head half-cocked,
happiness fully gone.
Derek Feb 2014
V.
I would liken you to a stab wound,
the way you've caused me so much pain -
but I must admit I provided the knife.
Derek Feb 2014
The dust falls at night,
scratching the surface of light -
destroying the plight.

Shaking all loveless,
diving into the love pit,
it all falls to dust.

Dance in the corner,
smiling without purpose,
the tears ache with pain.
Derek Feb 2014
to that one girl over there*

chock-full of intimacy,
i can't stop looking at the wrinkles in your hair
and the way they caress the curvature of your ears.
every smile drives me deeper into insanity,
and as your upper intersects with your lower,
i heave a sigh of pain.
waltz there, waltz here - your every move is like a dance
God Almighty choreographed himself.
My soul is like a bird - fluttering to the unknown,
but every season I come back for you.
your thighs were sculpted my Michelangelo,
your voice was crafted by Ella Fitzgerald,
your grace was gifted by your parents,
and my love burns hotter than the passion i have for you.
Derek Jan 2014
The mirrored shattered into pieces
and as she tried to put it back together,
her reflection catches her attention.
Aching with anger,
she becomes pregnant with rage
and begins to step on those pieces.
As the blood began to flow from her foot,
it also began to flow to her face.
She doesn't know why she's angry -
but then she remembers.
*How can a person remain
just as tattered as this mirror?
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