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 Jun 2018 Hannah Marr
What I Feel
You're hurting. You're hurting bad.
I can see it in your bloodshot eyes
And how you shy away from smiles
Directed at you. Now your once-had
Gleaming spirit dwindles as it tries
To cut its pain with bleak exile.

But blood is pumping through your veins -
Don't change its course with nails or steel.
Our love for you will never fade, though
You ask me what I'd do if somone else took hold your reins
And replaced you, thinking that would make us feel
Happier - without you? Never. No.

I feel anger and frustration because I'm only human,
But nothing on this planet makes me happy like you can.
I love you, you know that. Believe that in yourself.
So stay with me - you'll be with me,
a heart within myself.
I love you. We all love you. Don't beat yourself up so much, or guess what we are thinking. We don't know what we'd do without you.
this kids,
is how you do it

in the mid of the dark hours,
when two am is your new oldest friend
when sleep, your oldest old one,
left town on the midnight train,
taking your peace of mind

though she is far away
lost in dream-thoughts caught,
but only twelve inches close,
granting you an unasked permission,
you ok to stroke her hair,
undisturbing her, yet comforting yourself,
every voice in your temple'd altar praying,
one glorious chorus godly chant:

Oh Lord, what would I do without her?

and you stroke her hair and are saved.


2:51am

May 2014
 Jun 2018 Hannah Marr
Miss Ana
does the inside of your head
ever feel like a radio
thats constantly changing
stations
with lots of
static
and all the stations are
bad thoughts
that are strung together in
a sort of continuous narrative
of constantly escalating
fear
and
compounding dread?
intrusive thoughts
your past tragedies cradle you like a child,and
i suppose that no matter how hard I try to pull you out of their arms, and into my own, you
will never be able to depart because
being wrapped in tragedies arms is what you think of as home.
it’s a shame that the only thing you’ll allow to consume your mind is pain.
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