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Dear flaming and wild heart,
Flashes from our past, used to ease my pain.
Bitter sweet memories I treasured...
The privilege of being yours…
When in your arms I felt at home…
When our magic was so powerful…
Have we really lost it for eternity?
Your dried roses are bleeding.
You are here now but…
They still scream out for our story, for our flame.
Why do we have these vicious winds haunting us?
If you only knew how much I wish...
At least your heart is still beating...

© Christina Philipe
  Feb 2016 Christina Philipe
chris
before you **** yourself,
just remember
that there are
places you have not been
and things you have not seen.
and poems to awe
art to draw
fields to walk through,
people to talk to,
music to take in,
games to win,
and books to be read.

so why,
oh why
do you wish
to be dead?
it's your life
but the people
around you
get hurt too.
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