Send Me An Angel

A collaboration with a girl named Angel. We facebook chatted in poem form and here's what happened.

Me:
she's spinning around in circles.
she's swimming to and fro with the sea in a dress so white,
almost in free flight.
Won't you make me yours tonight?
the way she moves is pulllin me in like a black hole.
something like........ a sudden trance
with empty romance.
the weight of the world is on me.
the the roots of eden clinch my feet.
words can't explain this feeling

Her:
he asks me to give in to let him come this way,
he is yet intrigued with all these words i say.
oh compliments are nice and yet hes gentle like fresh snow,
but im far too trouble and complex than he will ever know
and though im completely uttering not one word aloud
i find my self in mercy falling further to the ground
weak..a little, lost...a lot...
but how he makes me feel forget these words ill not

Me:
struck with words much less than a line.
I find myself in control of time.
this moment i won't let bring her down.
lift her up to a throne with a crown,
the queen she will get what was asked for.
she will fall into my moves and i will show her a new door

Her:
flatter not a lowly me,
simpathy is always free.
but alone a flower can stand the wrath of storms a many and times gone bad. no modesty, no glance of give, becuase your kind ill let you live

Me:
sympathy is free but taken for granted...
like the flower you spoke off that was left alone planted,
to think to let such a beautiful thing sit in a storm.
why not take it out and on your ear it shall be born?

Her:
well pluck the flower from this earth,
no longer now can it rebirth,
the steam now wilted shes still not whole,
the beatened outside now matches her soul

Me:
her soul is no longer in the flower.
a new one sprouts right here in this hour.

Her:
oh really and how would you know

Me:
how would i know?
where something else dies is where something else grows

Her:
what is born from a seed thats mother was bleak?
what is portrayed from a mother so meek?
nothing seems to break this chain
of never ending things of the same

Me:
a mother so meek,
the gift of life,
a man in a sheet,
a thirsty knife.
it's all the same, yet contradicting.
I guess that's why the chain is never ending

Her:
oh so true