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Pound It
I can’t shake this feeling you create.So I have totwitch it outlike hypothermia,inside out.Clawing it frommy heart tomy armInto my pen.But the pen is sick of your name – It’s written ita thousand times andwith my first name,a thousand moreand my name soundsGoodWith anyone.So thanksMom because she lovedThe French.And I love Europe,at least the two countriesI’ve visited,Three if you count the sixhoursI spentSleeping in my mother’s lap,Crying into myGummy bears.But where you come from do people lead their Lovers with chainsOf broken promises and poetry?Because I refuse tolead a lukewarm life. Smiling blindly betweenHot – whirling dervishSexual frustration – 
 
Passion – Attraction.Supporting the earth from my hips,Curling you in my hands.AndCold – Stagnant cementPower education – Renovation – Motivation.Twirling the earth on my fingers,Kicking you down.But instead you give meLukewarm – melting my chocolate trufflesthen freezing me in icicleswithin your grasp.And in the shower,I’ve positioned the faucetright at my heart toPound youOut but as much as I try,I find the arrow stillin the middle.I’m sick of howWasted shopping trips andShaky subway ridesMake my knees bend the wrong way.Because whoever said“Opposites attract”is a liar.Because in dirty subways,you’re becoming me.Asking myFavorite friendto tell you something and“any who”Changing the subject,Breaking the silence.I want my life back to cry over spilled milk 
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02 / 13 / 2011This doucment made it onto the Rising List!
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