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I can’t help never falling out of love with you
I won’t apologise for being in it.
Swirled, wrapped, scents of us..makes no sense
Our difference drives me wild, chemistry
But.
Polarised frustrations fester
Your presence, your essence I will always feel.
Being a part and now apart
How does a heart, heal?
Does it?
The young people have exalted notions, because they have not been humbled by life or learned its necessary limitations; moreover, their hopeful disposition makes them think themselves as equal to great things and that means having exalted notions.
They would always rather do noble deed than useful ones. Their lives are regulated more by moral feeling than by reasoning all their mistakes are in the direction of doing things excessively and vehemently. They overdo everything they love too much hate too much and the same with everything else. (Aristotle)**


The Hereford cattles talk quietly among themselves
The commute home on the B train was noisier than ever
The passenger beside them youth squirmed and frigid
Youth of today is selfish and only think of themselves
If you asked for a passed, they will give you a laugh
If the elderly asked for the seat, they will give it to
Their backpacks, and scream louder, old geeks

Discipline, like if it’s outdated: no structure
A lost generation without stability:
A dark history, I lay awake and wonder
How can we fix this? Problem, problem
And more problem heading their way

While in the field the Hereford cattle
talk quietly among themselves
Nursing their calf without being asked of their mothers
to cover up their babies faces:
Yes
I still wake up
in the middle of the night
reaching for a body
that just isn’t there

Just as I did now
and just as I will tomorrow
as well as every night that follows
in which I’m left here alone
without you


Alysia Marie 2018 ©
I suppose my loneliest thoughts arrive at 1am.
 Mar 2018 Warren-Johnson
Shannon
there are days where I sit and stare at myself in the mirror
picking apart every little flaw, every extra roll and
every bit that's not the right shape or colour
and I think, almost religiously,
that I am not good enough for you.

Becuase the truth is that I'm not.

You deserve sunshine and flowers on a summers day,
not a work in progress as dull as a winters night.

I say this to you and you pull your lips together with a sad smile,
look down at me
say
"But what if I prefer winter"

My boy that is not the point.
All I do is make you worry and I wanna be your sunshine but I just don't
think
i
can
be
that

yet

I'm a work in progress.
Incomplete
I was shattered just before we met and putting the pieces together
is
killing
me

And the things we don't talk about
things we shelve for a conversation in the
future.

involves things that only
"I love you"
might be able to fix.

through everything
recovery is hard
and each and every day is a choice
I need to make
to be better
and
I'm not always strong enough to make that choice.

I just want you to understand
my boy
my lovely amazing
perfect
boy

that sometimes I don't eat
and sometimes I want to die more than not
that anxiety is a being that rocks me
and sometimes I need the rush of pain
from scrubbing hard at my skin
or dragging a blade across it

it's not about you.
it's not something your presence is going to necessarily fix












But i want to try for you.
Maybe i can't be your sunshine
but maybe
i can be your cup of tea
your jumper
your girl
wrapped up in your bed sheets
on a cold winters night

you once said you had no problem
helping me pick up my messes
and if you stand by that

ill be your girl.
In whatever season you want me.
Dear Poet Friends, this is an old poem of mine composed in the style of a
dramatic monologue, being an admirer of Robert Browning myself. Hope you like it.  Thanks, - Raj Nandy.

                          AT  THE  CEMETERY
I came to offer my bouquet of flowers and pray for my father’s
departed soul,
Had he lived on this day, he would have been a hundred years’
old!
But I have watched you all this while my friend, sitting still, all lost
in thought;
Facing that marble grave strewn with flowers, which your grieving
heart had brought.
Fate and destiny we cannot fight, the old must leave with time you
know;
Like the Autumn leaves which gently fall, in the Winter’s breeze both
soft and slow.
Such going and coming is a part of life, do cheer up my friend and
take heart;
Think of your family and life ahead, these passing sorrows do not
last.
You have a wife at home and perhaps children too, who will keep
you happy to forget this loss;
But my consoling words failed to stop his tears, which kept flowing
without a pause!
Who is it you so grieve for my friend, let’s arise and carry on with
life;
But the stranger continued kneeling and softly said, - ‘Sir, it is my
newly wedded wife’!
                                                          ­                          -Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
Pages turn quickly.
Events happen on each page.
Some defining you.
Other events making you weary.
Some events that happen on the page are good memories, those seem to go even faster though.
They tried to build me.
They tried to build me so I didn't fall again.
They kept failing though.
I kept crashing back down.
They started getting tired.
Because they had their own life, they had to build up other people who meant more to them.
I was left, crashing slowly each day.
Until I became something I never thought I would be.
Then he reached out, and I started building myself up.
But I would stumble and fall.
He would stay and watch me.
Making sure I didn't fall to far.
He was there at night when I needed someone.
He counts the days with me.
I have to admit, at first I thought he would leave.
If he hadn't been here.
I don't think I would be where I am.
Slowly building myself up every-day.
Slowly becoming who I want to be.
I look for you in everyone.
Because I don't want to get hurt anymore.
Yes, I look for you in everyone.
So no one else can do, what you did to me.
If someday I run into you, don't expect me to say sorry for speaking up.
Don't expect a hug, because you don't deserve feeling my warmth.
Don't expect me to listen to you, when you try to tell me, that you did nothing.
I don't want you to even admit you did anything, because I know what happened.
I don't need anything from you, leave me alone.
Please, don't look for me, don't knock on my door.
Please, don't reach out.
The only thing you need to know is that I'm doing fine without you.
The only thing you need to know is that you did not keep me down.
The only thing you will find, is a different girl.
A girl who doesn't let people do what you did.
You have taken enough from me.
No, I don't forgive you.
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