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I'm becoming okay with not knowing what to do or how I feel.
I'm single at 23 with no kids so what else have I got to do except see what happens.
That's exciting but also frustrating for someone like me who likes to have a plan.
My life now is nothing like I thought it would be a year ago, so how can I think I have any control over the future.
I think this will be one of the toughest years of my life because it's one big transition after another.
I'm trying to learn as much as I can while not letting my heart make too many of the decisions.
I truly have no idea what my life will be even in a few months but I'm getting used to the unpredictable.
Because I’m a poet
I permit my mind
To mount clear
In the expression of
love , Sorrow
or
whatever it pleases
To unearth

Because I’m a poet
I tolerate my soul
To adrift  in the abyss of time
like the blowing winds
In its mercy clinging for life
like a chain

Because I’m a poet
I license my body
To have no barriers journey
No rules to follow
spreads my wings
Glide high with my imagination
For poetry is a beast of many faces

Because           You’re          a        Poet
There      is       no      need   for you
to   be   judgmental,  intimidating
or  provocative    towards   others
 for          poetry            is
all      about     living        free
    And             You          Too
Can   shine   on   your
Own
And
B
l
o
s
s
o
m
L
  i
    k
      e
         A
                   Rose
Some will get your scribbles some will not ... maybe those who don’t get it aren’t supposed to... stop the hatred and let’s just have fun for we’re all passionate about poetry ;)
 Sep 2018 Semi-literate Poet
mer
Your eyes aren't just brown --
They are the shade of running deer
Of sunlight on bark
Of stones under a clear creek
Of crispy autumn leaves
Of warm, sweet honey

Your eyes, they twinkle back at the stars
They light up like the sun when you smile
They look at me with kindness
Your eyes are something else.
You're more than
the blade to your wrist,
than the noose to your neck,
than the sleeping pills to your lips,
than the pen to your suicide note,
than the footsteps to the edge of your windowsill,
than the 'broken' to your 'dreams',
than the 'bruised' to your 'heart',
than the 'troubled' to your soul,
than the 'pained' to you.
You're much more than that,
I promise.
"Suicide would never end the pain, it'd just give the pain to someome else."

I love you
I care for you
I always will
I'm there for you
I will always be.

Please always try and help people out of their mess. Today, on 10th September, 2018, World Suicide Prevention Day, I promise to love every troubled soul out there. Do you?

©Semicolon
I no longer hope for anyone's approval but my own.
I no longer let opinions of others define who I am.
I will follow the dreams I have jotted down on my bucket list.
I will follow my heart.
I will live the way I am meant to live.
I will no longer be trapped in this cage of conformity. I am too much a Bohemian Soul for that.
I will fall in love with different places, art, poems, music, people, tastes. And I will no longer apologize for my mistakes.
I am who I am - a straightforward, loyal, compassionate Bohemian that lives for Indie tunes and tarot cards and daisies, sunflowers, clouds and sculptures. A reader and a deep thinker and a lover and a dreamer and a free spirit.
 Sep 2018 Semi-literate Poet
Ash
You've told me a couple of times
You've put it down too
You've shown it to them to me
I've held it back
Fighting with this brain,fingers
Not to say
You are my Safe Haven
Or maybe it Safe Heaven
Oh no that would be grammatically wrong
Sarò qui quando torni
I don't know how to say this but I just wish now that I told him earlier,Now his gone,if you come back this is for you only you,from your speed Demon Angel
 Sep 2018 Semi-literate Poet
Tati
“Why would you ever want to name a child that?”
Is what my mother asks me when I tell her that if I ever have a daughter I want that to be her name
Dolores
Meaning “pain” in Spanish
I think the names beautiful
My mother shakes her head
“It’s because of that book isn’t it? What was it called again? ******?”
Maybe
The tragic love story that ends in death?
Yes please!
I don’t understand my fascination with desired romance that always ends in tragedy
I don’t think I ever will
But to answer my mother’s question, I just say
“I think it’s a lovely name”
She shakes her head as if I’m crazy
Maybe it’s because I am
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