I’m a baker
A poor man in a kitchen
A man to fill people
...
Liquid emotions
Bottled up inside hearts
Kept for special occasions
A drink only for guests of honor
...
I swear I’ve never seen you
I’ve been looking for you
But I’ve never seen you
Even though I know you were real all along
...
My body hangs over the edge
Reaching out my hand
Attempting to outstretch the distance
To grab yours
...
Words are printed with ink
On white trees
To tell us a story
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Broken knuckles
Fragments of bone trapped in skin
Floating aimlessly in blood
Never stopping pistons of fury
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Cleared sky
Sun filled manner
Days full of joy
A once remembered feeling
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Our lips touch
But only slightly
For a moment
As mine slide down chin to neck
...
She doesn’t deserve just any poem
Not some mindlessly scrambled words
Flipped and fried
The a golden crisp with a sweet aroma
...