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Once you become heartbroken, you look for someone to fill in the void one left.
You're not in love, just looking for healing in the wrong place.
If you think you are head over heels with someone in a short period of time where you just went through a break up it's just a rebound because you feel alone. I've done this before and many of my friends have it just makes things worse .
A new year can't change bad memories,but it can change your attitude towards them by not letting them hold you back
Happy new year everyone, sorry for not being on much my wifi is out at home.
 Jan 2016 Chalsey Wilder
Poetic T
Eyes opened
To new Life,
I wept a moment
Then  I cried happiness.
 Jan 2016 Chalsey Wilder
Poetic T
stimulated thoughts
moaning satisfaction
releasing upon me
 Jan 2016 Chalsey Wilder
Poetic T
guided to the door
knocking eagerly, waiting
can I *** within
Its always polite to knock and see if your aloud to *** within :)
The bright in your face
makes all my butterflies
come out,
it's the natural reaction to such dazzle;
so simple, so rising.
Stand still, and I will read to thee
A lecture, love, in love's philosophy.
      These three hours that we have spent,
      Walking here, two shadows went
Along with us, which we ourselves produc'd.
But, now the sun is just above our head,
      We do those shadows tread,
      And to brave clearness all things are reduc'd.
So whilst our infant loves did grow,
Disguises did, and shadows, flow
From us, and our cares; but now 'tis not so.
That love has not attain'd the high'st degree,
Which is still diligent lest others see.

Except our loves at this noon stay,
We shall new shadows make the other way.
      As the first were made to blind
      Others, these which come behind
Will work upon ourselves, and blind our eyes.
If our loves faint, and westwardly decline,
      To me thou, falsely, thine,
      And I to thee mine actions shall disguise.
The morning shadows wear away,
But these grow longer all the day;
But oh, love's day is short, if love decay.
Love is a growing, or full constant light,
And his first minute, after noon, is night.
All of the shining mad ones
With their heresies of reality
And other visions and other voices
Are not diminished
By the multitude of choices
That is their truth
Upon each waking day

They are woken by the howl
From beyond the first ear
And into the deeper mind
Where there is other language
And blinding colours of emotion
For madness has the purity of pain
That martyrs can only long for

                                           By Phil Roberts
I know this is a "difficult" poem but, it's a difficult concept. I felt that I had to try it in the interest of empathy.
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