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Alzet Weideman Apr 2019
As you lie next to me, falling asleep
I look - wide-awake - to you

You
mine

I'm try to count your eyelashes,
but its impossibility reminds me of the impossible amount of variables that had to play together for us to be here tonight.

I stare at your soft, full lips and how they fell open as your jaw relaxed to expose your white teeth.
Something similar to how we have grown comfortabke in this togetherness to uncover the splendor we hide from the rest of the world.

I place my hand on the left half of your chest to feel your heart beating
and suddenly wonder how many of those heartbeats you have left and how much of it I will have the honor of spending with you.
Alzet Weideman Apr 2019
It is pitch dark
I can't see my hands in front of my eyes
I don't know where I'm going
Where am I?
 
I shuffle
One uncertain foot in from of the other
Hands stretched out
Afraid of falling and scared of pain
 
I stumble
Knees hit the hands stone
The instability in my body gets me down
The uncertainty in my heart keeps me down
 
You're with me
Take me by the arm and lead me
You don't carry me, I'm walking
But you are the eyes through which I see
 
I continue shuffling
Easier than before
The road ahead is not brighter
But I feel safe where I am now
Alzet Weideman Apr 2019
Late night sneaking over your parents' wooden floor
Getting to know the you that I missed through your playlists
Draining your brain to feed my hunder for knowledge
And winning your high score in Guitar Hero

Sitting through boring soccer matches
Holding your hand
Getting poetically overwhelmed in the esctase of the moment
Looking up with big eyes and folding myself tightly around you

Being the imaginary passenger in each of your 007 cars…
This is a story I will never be able to tell
The right idea, but the wrong person
This is the poem I could never even finish writing
Alzet Weideman Apr 2019
I hope a void broke loose in you the moment I left your hand without looking back.  A triumphant hope regardless of my experience.

But I realize the claws of emptiness actually sink into me.

I tried to scrub your fingerprint from my palm, but still feel the safe heat of your hand.
I wish I could scratch out your eyes with my words - maybe then you would notice me.

My vocal cords want to break out of thise prison of self-control.
I want to scream your name at the top of my voice and if you take note of me, disappear ...
Come find me!
Alzet Weideman Nov 2017
You common idiom!
Just a manner of speaking that is natural to native speakers of a language.

Why do you feed the hand that bites?
Why do your words speak louder than your action?
Why do you add injury to insult?
Why is your bark on the right tree?

Why are you sad to see the back of?
Why do you accept the worst of both worlds?
Why are you chewing more than you bit off?
Why are you covering for a judgemental book?

Why do you lie over spilt milk?
Why do you give the doubt of the benefit?
Why do you keep something at bae?
Why do you let laying dogs sleep?

Do you not see?
You're torturing yourself
There is no method to your madness,
and your method sure is mad!

That picture paints a thousand words
and the one's you are writing have much more worth!
I know I'm playing the devil's advocate,
but you're off your rocker if you keep beating around the bush.

Don't miss your boat
or you'll miss happiness
A long story short,
another's narcissism is not your riddle to rhyme
A poem about domestic abuse and staying in a relationship with your abuser.
Domestic abuse is a pattern of behaviour which involves violence or other abuse by one person against another in a domestic setting, such as in marriage or cohabitation. It may be termed intimate partner violence when committed by a spouse or partner in an intimate relationship against the other spouse or partner, and can take place in heterosexual or same-*** relationships, or between former spouses or partners. Domestic violence may also involve violence against children or the elderly. It takes a number of forms, including physical, verbal, emotional, economic, religious, reproductive, and ****** abuse, which can range from subtle, coercive forms to marital **** and to violent physical abuse such as choking, beating, female genital mutilation and acid throwing that results in disfigurement or death.
Alzet Weideman Nov 2017
There is a leak in my heart where you shoved your coarse fingers in so impertinently.
I exposed my soul for you, revealed my naked body for you to see,
but you watched and all you really saw were the parts that aroused your virility.

I gave you an ultimatum, but, to you, the rest of me was like the speed fines that you were never going to pay.
You devoured my dreams with a mouthful of empty promises and destroyed them,
now you're an epitome manliness...

and I?
A scarecrow in the clean eyes of anyone capable of accepting all my peculiarities.

You say that I left you,
but here I sit on the sidewalk, desolated.
A prose about my first time - careless and unkind.
The lover was a heroic boy for taking my virginity. I was regarded as a promiscuous girl, unworthy of the love of any other man due to my 'transgression'.

This was four years ago and today I am loved - not only by a wonderful man, but also by myself. For I know that the guilt I felt for many years was caused by unsolicited societal gender norms and sexism; and every last drop has evaporated.

Fight gender norms and sexism!
Do not stand back and watch young ladies hate themselves due to male "masculinity".
Alzet Weideman Nov 2017
The red gutters and the bright yellow panes
Bright blue water flowing when it rains
The green grass creeping over the lawn
Bright yellow sun peaking out at dawn

But what it’s really all about
Is when you turn it inside-out
The lonely darkness then revealed
With a cold blackness again sealed

My friend, are you not maybe so:
Outside all bright and cheery
Where green grass and blue streams flow.

But inside you’re just as weary
And do not actually grow
As this dark house so cold and earie
This poem was written by my mother (anonymous Bell).
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