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It's not about what you say
How you say it,
How much you say.
It's about being next to you
When it happens.
The peace of knowing that you and I,
We breathe the same air,
For a moment.
Only a moment.
But this moment in time,
Is ever more beautiful
Because of it.
Lost soul visits the store across the road
To pick up some rope and a stool;
He looks both ways before crossing the street.
Write one line at a time.
Don't stress.
You'll come back with better ideas.
Or maybe sometimes,
it is best to leave
After talking to a friend of mine who is a song writer, he gave me this advice. And I have loved it and lived by it since.
A bleak day
and bleaker still
Rain pocks the pavement
and my windowsill

Come heavy winds tonight
they say
casting eerie shadows
as the trees will sway

The earth will shake
with thunder and doubt
But make no mistake
That's what life is about

Each storm brings the promise
of life and decay
You may die tomorrow
oh, but you're alive today

And when fear holds you
and darkness persists
please remember, my dear
that true love exists
 Mar 2016 Chalsey Wilder
Torin
No glasses
No rings
No tattoos
Just my skin
The skin god gave me
And if you know how to look

You'll see divine art

No glasses
I can see clearly
My contacts
Are the souls I reach
The love I give
And receive

No rings
My hands are strong
They hold the frets
And make a song
A song that god gave me
I have to sing

No tattoos
Because the scars are my art
And scars on my heart
Tell a story
About a life I used to live
And the time I died
I wanted a tattoo when I was younger, I couldn't afford it, every dime to ******,, now I'm clean, I can see clearly. I'm perfect as I am
 Mar 2016 Chalsey Wilder
105D11
The tree.
It’s waving at
me.
Calling
me.
Begging
me
to come out. Run away from
Here. This prison, holding me back from my
                         deepest
                                                       ­                      longing.

I hate it Here.

I need to go. I need to run away from
Here.
Run to
Him.
That tree…
I dream of the other tree.
The tree under which we promised with our
lips;
Promised that
Someday,
we will have each other, without having to
  Hide.
                        Wait.
                    ­                     ....Run.
But maybe,
if we want,
we will run anyway.

The tree keeps waving at me.
*It hasn’t given up.
I won't give up.
 Mar 2016 Chalsey Wilder
Emily B
my mother worries
that there will be no one
by her bed
when she dies

she doesn't remember
that when i was a toddler
she put herself to bed
and made me her parent

she forgets that she used
those little hands to rub
her back--her head
until she felt better

these grown up hands
still wince
at the thought of touching
her skin

somehow i will have
to find a way to fulfill my
adult responsibilities
perhaps she still has

a day or two til then
more honest if it kills me
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