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 Jun 2015 marcela
Sombro
The String
 Jun 2015 marcela
Sombro
Pick a note
Any note
Watch it tremble
Shiver like a songbird’s wings

Wailing through your fingers
An echo of your pick
Crashing through the realms
Of the different notes to choose

Take it down
Pull it up
And sing
Sing like a shivering string
 Jun 2015 marcela
Tark Wain
Did You
 Jun 2015 marcela
Tark Wain
Did you **** him.

Don't answer anything else
Those four words
That's all I want know.

no apologies.

I don't want you to tell me you're sorry

yes or no
that's all I want to hear.

The answer won't make a difference
we both know that.

it's over
but I still need to know

your answer will be the bow
I use to tightly fasten up the present
I am ready to leave behind.

the color does not matter to me.
There's a difference betwen running
And trying to put something behind you
www.gofundme.com/r5wnpsd5
^copy n paste
This is the only thing  I can figure out to help me over come the past.
 Jun 2015 marcela
Edgar Allan Poe
I.

In youth I have known one with whom the Earth
  In secret communing held—as he with it,
In daylight, and in beauty, from his birth:
  Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit
From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth
  A passionate light such for his spirit was fit—
And yet that spirit knew—not in the hour
  Of its own fervor—what had o’er it power.


II.

Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
  To a ferver by the moonbeam that hangs o’er,
But I will half believe that wild light fraught
  With more of sovereignty than ancient lore
Hath ever told—or is it of a thought
  The unembodied essence, and no more
That with a quickening spell doth o’er us pass
  As dew of the night-time, o’er the summer grass?


III.

Doth o’er us pass, when, as th’ expanding eye
  To the loved object—so the tear to the lid
Will start, which lately slept in apathy?
  And yet it need not be—(that object) hid
From us in life—but common—which doth lie
  Each hour before us—but then only bid
With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken
  T’ awake us—’Tis a symbol and a token—


IV.

Of what in other worlds shall be—and given
  In beauty by our God, to those alone
Who otherwise would fall from life and Heaven
  Drawn by their heart’s passion, and that tone,
That high tone of the spirit which hath striven
  Though not with Faith—with godliness—whose throne
With desperate energy ‘t hath beaten down;
  Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown.
 Apr 2015 marcela
Just Melz
If you accidentally
             fall out of love,
Do you just dive
                back in head first?
           Feet first??
                     Eyes closed???
        Cannon ball????
             Or
Do you walk away
       Cause you can't swim
And you're scared to death
                   of *drowning?????
I don't know the answer and I'm not sure what I'm even asking..... Enjoy.

Comments welcomed and appreciated.  
      Thx

http://www.gofundme.com/r5wnpsd5
I'm not only asking for financial help, moral support and advice can help too.

PLEASE CLICK THE LINK
Share my story, help if you're able.
THANK YOU all for any help or support.
 Apr 2015 marcela
Jake O
No friends to leave behind
No family to wave be good bye
I'll walk away now
And give up my final try

It's pretty easy to leave here
It's not that hard to go
I'll walk away now
Out in the blistering snow

The frost comforts me greatly
As I tread on through the cold
The white encourages me to go on
And justifies my being bold

With no one to look back on
With no one to pull my slack
I will walk away now
And never come back
This poem was inspired by Brave Song by Aoi Tada
 Apr 2015 marcela
Court
and its weird because I don't really know him
but just the thought of getting to know him makes the butterflies in stomach have seizures.
I don't really know him
but I think he might be the one who saves me
 Apr 2015 marcela
Pat Adamek
Like coffee in the morning
I grew used to you somehow
It started bitter and without warning
  it is ending that way now

Like Gene Kelly or Sinatra
You have Marlon Brando class
Went to pop music from the opera
Now I cant stop thinking about ***

Like two stings out of tune
We always seem to clash
Bring your beauty to the room
Where the music doesn't match

Art is ever changing: lke w/e idc
People rearranging: Thrz no bEutY Ne wer3
(Jaha baha LOL
They prolly tlk like diz N h3L7 )
Commentary (or will be someday) on how Pop culture exchanges art for ***, deep thinking for big butts, love for physical interaction.
 Apr 2015 marcela
Court
I. Boy with the silly laugh
We were best friends.
You were there when my father left and I was there when you had your heart broken.
I knew you didn't love me. But I didn't care.
That was the beautiful part about it.
I still loved you knowing I wouldn't get love in return.
I hope you found what you were looking for.

II. The first boy I ever thought I'd marry
We spent so much time together and yet it never seemed like enough
I remember the first time we slept together.
My curfew was 11 but I still walked through my front door at 8 am the next morning.
My mom was so mad, but that night you tasted like heaven and I knew that's the only time I would ever get a glimpse of heaven.
If there is a God, I know he brought you to me.

III. The boy who ran out of time
I remember the day I met you, you played with my hair.
I remember how you'd always smell like vanilla and coffee.
I remember our first kiss, how your tongue would glide around my lip.
I remember the scratches and the screams to the angels.
I remember the day I last saw you.
I remember a full sanctuary with 100 shades of black.
I hope you're resting. I hope you're in heaven playing baseball like you did as a child.
I hope you know that when I told you to leave I didn't mean for you like this.
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