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AB Nov 2016
Why is it so hard to accept loneliness?

We are only what we allow ourselves to be, so I shouldn't feel like I need someone but I do and that makes me feel empty.

I am worthy of joy and happiness but I blindly try to find ways to avoid it.

It's about time to accept that I'm not going to be someone's "Prince Charming".

I'm not going to be the one that comes to save the day, nor should I.

People are selfish creatures and always will be.

Why should I be any different?
AB Oct 2016
Remember when we were kids and how we used to play inside boxes? No, literally. We were so clever, and powerful, that we could have the time of our lives playing inside of a box.

We would effortlessly transport to other worlds and transform ourselves to be anything we wanted. We genuinely believed, with every ounce of our hearts, that we could be and do anything that we could put our minds to.

So what the hell happened to us? Have we really changed that much?

Or have those same boxes become more real than we ever imagined?

It all starts with our first day of school. We are thrown from one box to the next:

"Oh you didn't fit in that box? Here, try fitting into this one instead."

Boxes and boxes of stuff. The same stuff we are told will give our lives meaning yet we are left miserably confused when we realize that it doesn't.

All of our lives we are taught to think that we're growing up, but we're not. We're simply just changing boxes. Ignorant to the intimate parts of us that we carelessly leave behind.

In the end, we gave away our innocence to gain experience, our freedom to be taught obedience. We stood by and watched our curiosity flattened by our deepest fears. What we're left with is this isolated existence we've become enslaved to obey and never question.

I believe it's this inescapable system of life that rots us from the inside out. The only thing that saves us is death. In fact, the only thing natural about our death is that we simply accept it.

After all these years and decades spent in boxes, we learn that death is our only way out.

Is this really how life's suppose to be?
  Jul 2016 AB
Darrel Weeks
In a field
Turn round and around
Until the sky becomes the earth
Until the wind becomes
The motion to carry a thought
Until love moves at the speed of sound and rests upon a star
And falls on solid ground
With a blanket of the heaven to break its fall
Just wanted to write as I sat on a train and watched a girl spinning in field whilst at play
Looking up at a blue sky I wondered if her emotions had taken her feet off the ground
To all those in love you must feel this every second I know I do
Thank you V
  Jul 2016 AB
SE Reimer
~

think again if you believe
light is but a rapid blur,
consider that the spark
that lives between
two lover-friends, is light
exchanged in slow fashion;
the slow burn of a campfire,
the sparkle of her passion,
the flicker of a candle,
whisperings of the starlight,
the way a moon beam
bends the tides,
and makes her eyes twinkle;
each my confirmation,
of light that moves
so satisfying slow,
allowing flames to ever grow
ever higher, higher,
kindling sparks into a fire,
for love that lasts
is not a spark alone...
no,
love’s passion is a bon fire,
a sunset setting sky aglow;
an ever-building slow,
to effervescent ether;
a gently flowing kiss,
a living, colored tapestry
of drifting twilight mist;
this the speed of light...
my heart’s desire,
mirrored in my lover’s eyes.

~

*post script.

love at the speed of sunsets and star gazing;
evenings spent round the campfire
with only the light of the fire,
the stars and that sparkle in each other's eyes...
falling in love, all over again!
  Mar 2016 AB
Gidgette
There is an entire world
Of which most are unaware
You can't touch, taste, smell, hear, or see it
But know it is there
There are invisible chains
That link us all together
It has been here since the beginning
And it will be here until forever
From womb to tomb
We are bound to others
Soul mates, found
In kinship, or lovers
We birth our future
With every kindness and every crime
Our lives are not our own
Though we deny this, all the time
Death is but a doorway
A new beginning, not an end
Through many different lifetimes
Our human souls transend
To give us the opportunity
To fix things broken, needing a mend
So if death Has taken from you
A lover, kin, or friend
Just remember a new door opened
Because death, is not the end
AB Feb 2016
Every aspiring artist knows
how to silence the voices
in their head–– by turning them into art.
AB Jan 2016
Yes she’s a dancer
but her soul is one too
she glides across the floor
that she calls her home
yet I never fully understood
how she could float in the emptiness
and still feel so full

Just by the way her body interacts
with the surrounding air
and the ground beneath it
how her limbs move together in a harmonic motion
that illuminates the explicit beauty she bestows
just as the planets dance around the beaming sun
it was poetry

It made me feel as though
deep down she believed her Creator
had designed  her to be a dancer
not only for me but for the rest of the world
and that is how she found her purpose
better yet how purpose found her

She knew it and I could tell
by this half smile that stretched
across her face when she twirled
as though in that moment the world was hers
and yet she was modest enough
to never tell you that it was
simply because she knew that she was yours
the fallen Lucifer never fell as far as I have for her

She's my dancing angel.
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