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saraistone
saraistone
I am a master of goodbyes Black and whites Nobody is at fault Alone I draw my lines Define my boundaries Is this better? Sober I can feel it all now It hurts and crashes into my soul Empty I am hollow The past echoes inside me A walking heartbreak
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Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 6:28 PM UTC
Toodles
Digging deep Pulling me out of myself Chipping away the layers I've been lost and found Round and round I went Until in the light of the sinking sun I saw you glow and felt alive I'm awake now I've missed you all along You are the answer to many wishes upon candles and stars Patiently I've mastered the fear of saying yes After wandering and wasting in this world solo There I suddenly was At home in your gaze The victory dance kind of kiss Swimmingly I floated in the door Slept soundly with thoughts of you Lips vibrating Soul joyous
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Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 10:29 PM UTC
Falsehoods and fossils
Flowing in my veins Your electric smile Awakens my soul
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Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 11:05 PM UTC
Float
Hello old soul The golden light hurts your weary eyes Familiar but longtime unseen Leaving that cave of sadness You recite your fables and Storybooks of broken hearts Formulaic and adorned with tattered pages And nobody wants to hear them anymore Go on brave wonder Rewrite your story Create new glory Are you dizzy yet? Circling back around to the start Press play instead of restart Use the extra life that you have
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
Returning around
“Who am I?” I always ask myself. And whenever I do Countless of flashbacks races before my eyes Telling me that I am this and I am that Making me feel uncomfortable on my own skin Confusing me “Who are you?” I ask again But I don’t really know "Who are you?" For the third time I ask myself And I remember how I used to be Acting differently between people I meet And for the last time “Who are you?” I ask Still, flashbacks The memories of me being innocent Memories of me being a monster And I ask myself again "Who am I?"
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Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 12:09 PM UTC
BPD
Wings a flitter Iridescent feathers a glitter Hovering briefly at a flower top Usually not long enough to truly stop This precious one of avian design I  see delicately perched upon a twisted vine The sun glinting off the ruby throat Making it easy for on this one to dote Although this perch may be brief It does bear out my belief That the light of her essence Has me blessed in her presence Medicine, absent of strife Filled with the nectar of life Life that bears the scars of complexity Yet revels in the miracle of synchronicity Placed on my path with divine intention I would be remiss to discount this intervention And yet fail to mention... A renewal of mon couer and the magic of living For this is the medicine that hummingbird is giving And for me it is so easy to see She is Nenookaasi
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Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
Hummingbird
I'm like a bird, I want to fly away. Wrapped in a billowing yellow silk scarf which shines gold in the light of day. Perched on a tree branch, face the horizon. Hope and sunlight glimmer reflected in each determined eye which widens.   Ruffled feathers are my warm, windswept hair. I will leap into the sky, stretching high To glide through the air if I dare.    Music from Cape Town, a bird's song my ears spread their wings and feel the song's lift beneath and sing sweet as the horizon nears. I am a  bird and as I fly away wrapped in my billowing yellow silk scarf I shine gold in the light of day.
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Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
Yellow Silk Scarf
first i let myself weep then slowly my heart bleed words dropping into these tattered pages eventually forming lines and making rhyming rhythms ©IGMS
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
how i write poems
it lies in wait in the sighs after a statement in the pause between words hanging in the air it looms overhead thickening with each passing second coating the lungs with heavy silence yea, the silence 'tis wear dreams go to die for when exposed to another it's the silence that is coagulated disillusionment and it is in that place that the silver in the clouds begins to tarnish
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Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 10:22 AM UTC
the birth of disappointment