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 Mar 2018 Andrew Ewen
Simoné
It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived
I'm lacking sensitivity,
there is no pain.
All of my emotions
have been drained.

Happiness lost.
Anger? No more.
But my heart is broken,
sprawled out on the floor.

You came so quickly
and left too soon.
Poor little angel,
you didn't have time to bloom.

But "Thy will be done",
yes that's true,
but it hurts that I
never got to know you.

AJ or Natalia
I'll remember you for years,
and I will cry for you
with silent tears.
 Feb 2018 Andrew Ewen
haley
Dejected
 Feb 2018 Andrew Ewen
haley
This heavy feeling in my chest sinks
while eyes like wells swell and stream down in streaks
I lay awakened in the darkness
as it wraps around my sudden sadness
It holds me here, constricted;
by my own self I am convicted
to this cell, a hell I call home,
the only place I have ever roamed
The ghost of my past haunts me,
a never-ending reminder of what once was and what could be
Lost: in space, in time, in thought
I am the forgotten and distraught
WITH THE WORDS SHE WROTE
PASSIONATELY WITH HER PEN
YOU CAN FEEL THE INK
CRAWL UPON YOUR SOUL

HER CREATIVE YET HARD LIFE,
BLESSED US WITH HER POEMS
SHE IS WHAT SPIRIT CALLS LIFE

PAIN STRIFE LOVE ABUSED
SHE WILL NOT FALL DOWN
WITH THE STROKES OF THE INK
ITS WRITTEN HER PERSONALLY

LET MY WORDS CONSUME YOU
OPEN YOUR MIND BE NOT AFRAID
DARE TO BE THERE WITH ME

FIND THE PLEASURE
IN POEMS WRITTEN
NAUGHTY & SO DELICIOUS

READ THE STRUGGLES
TOUGH DAYS LONELY NIGHTS
LONGING TO BE LOVED
NEEDING TO BE HEARD

SURVIVING ON THE STROKES
OF MY HAND ONTO PAPER
IS THIS HOW IT ENDS
WRITING IN INK
THE RHYTHM OF MY LIFE
WORDS JUST WORDS WRITTEN

©

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