little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

I would love you all to write a poem talking to earth, call it dear earth.
tell it anything, how beautiful it is, your love story, confess what makes you frown or smile ,if a loved one left *died ,how are you pushing throug. how is your current state on earth, good or bad,best or worst,let earth know what's happening to you .this is just a conversation with earth before it swallows you.
AND PLEASE REPOST AND PARTICIPATE THANKS

.

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/947133/dear-earth/

You think you're a lost cause
but you're just stuck in the middle.
Life's been hard since you were little.
I don't know every thing,
but I know it's getting warm outside
and you're going to be fine.

You think you're a cancer
but just wait and see
that you'll heal yourself,
like you helped heal me.
This may sound cliché,
but it's getting warm outside  
and you're going to be fine.

It's hard to say
When the first onset
Of insecurities
Had taken place

Was it at 17?
When I stared deep
Into the mirror
Despising the reflection?

Was it at 15?
When I dug my fingernails
Into the side of my thigh
When he made me feel like used garbage?

Was it at 13?
When I showed
My mom that award
And it was carelessly tossed on the table?

Was it at 11?
When the snickers
Of my classmates
Reached my heart?

Was it at 9?
When I watched
Mother try to desperately
Cover her imperfections with powder?

Self love?
Self love?
Self love can't dwindle away
When it never existed.

And now at the age
Of barely 20,
I've been searching
The ground
For a speck
Of confidence
And trying my best
To piece together
A backbone
That I never had.