Fade Up

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When I left the forest deep inside your heart.
I cut a few veins along the way.
I left the place dirty and messy.

Face up beauty scar.
Ugly stars and cigarette smoke.
Fade up again, I’m so tired.

The Dark Story

North Wood

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A small house on a field of brown grass, it’s the mud under my feet I remember the most.

I feel the dirt of the sun in my eyes.
Spliced beams pushing in the vague of motion sickness.

Upon the backs of worms,
I feel the crust of the earth in my hands.

The Girl Gun

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Those bullets are made out of joy.

She’s pissing zen like happiness is a warm gun.

This is the part when the lights go out.
I can hear my crooked smile turn perfect.

Do you realize or dig real lies?
Oh those ill eyes, good night and sleep well.

Pretty Up Here

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You have the most beautiful scars I have ever seen.
I could almost drink the blood from the wounds of your skin.
This is what moves me,
This is what heaven almost feels like.

They could burst into a thousand pieces
I could misspell the word, harmony in the pages of your song book. (more…)

Sleep On Your Floor

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Inside the grass of your palm.
It’s like carpet burn,
My head is a bomb.
You shoot to dissolve, like rust that never fades out.
Settle down like rotten sunsets.
Settle off in the land of adore.

©gregloon2016

Mr. Chaos

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In a clot of fluid.
The beans of the sun turn into fields of green.
My heart stops beating for a minute or two.

If this is chaos in luxury.

And my life is blood-shot red.

Oh open your eyes.

You better wake me.

You better wake me.

@gregloon2016

The Underground Life

The Stranger

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You are a tourist.
You better move the sun.
If it’s not in your shade.

There’s an ugly sense of desire looking pretty.
Please don’t slip and fall when you reach for the sun.
You look pretty enough, it makes me sick.

You are the bloated air I breathe.
You are like some velvet painting I hate.

Poems About Jane

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The obscure sun cracks through the wood and drink.
This certain smile, kills clouds for a living.

I want to hold the dust that settles in your mouth.
I want to kiss lips that make me bleed.
I want to write a poem about her.