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rhema subedi Jan 2017
I did it once, then once more;
The third time, I got sore.
But the fourth time, I tried again;
And by the fifth, I’d gotten rid of the pain.
rhema subedi Jan 2017
When everything that happens, happens too fast;
And everyone that loved you once, leaves you at last…
While you drown in the river of fears and in the sea of despair,
Can you see the faint ray of hope that’s still up there?

While your own imagination rips you into shreds,
Are you still able to hold your own in everything that you dread?
As in-head conversations, and nightmares, and reality, all just get mixed up…
What can I do to stop myself getting lost?

When I spend hours torturing myself, believing that someone is dead,
How can I just ignore all that’s going on in my head?  
You tell me to look at others’ misery and just be glad that I’m not there;
But why do you think I can revel in another’s despair?

While I spend all my time, trying to think straight,
You don’t even tell me, that I can change my fate.
As I just embroil myself, in absolute terror,
Why can’t you tell me, that things will get clearer?

Every new fact that’s found, leads to more fear,
And all at once, I’ve shed every single tear.
Now I’m too tired to even just sit and cry,
And all of my emotions are slowly running dry…

I can’t recognize any feelings anymore,
I just know that my heart is so sore.
And I’m angry, afraid and sad all at once,
And all I can do now is hope life gives me another chance.

Another chance at a carefree tomorrow,
A chance at a day not filled with sorrow.
A day I’m not terrified of everything unknown,
One day, when my heart doesn’t feel like a heavy stone.

I just wish that I could lose myself in imaginary places,
Places where all I can see are friendly faces.
Where anyone can hold me close when the panic sets in,
Where someone, at least, can say the right thing.

Does that place exist outside of my mind,
Is that place real, somewhere I can find?
Dare I to hope that I’ll be there someday?
Until then, may I ask you to stay?
rhema subedi Jan 2017
This is definitely the first; and maybe the last:
I desperately hope it’s the only one.
rhema subedi Nov 2016
This is poetry,
It is beauty.
Poetry is beauty;
And beauty? It’s poetry.

My dear, this is you.
To me, you’re beauty.
Beauty, in its very own essence,
Is poetry.

So you, my love,
Are poetry.
  Nov 2016 rhema subedi
mk
there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard

there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging

somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth

there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach

there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance

there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.
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