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Heavy Hearted Nov 2019
Sara I know you won't get this but Im writing it anyways- I think about you at the strangest times and I wish you could see the artist I've become and am going to be. You are permanently in my heart. I will make your mother a beautiful piece and I hope you can somehow see it. You are missed by such a random connection, me, just as strong as ever when it happens. I love you. Thank you for loving me too. Rest in peace, through the Mellin collie and the infinite sadness.
Megan timewell was the first person I ever wrote a poem for and first person to read and validate it as a  practice. This is a message I sent to the still active messenger account, of the long since parted Sara G.  And even as you walk amongst the shadows, you're still one beautifully bad *****

- Eric Pon

Foreva
Heavy Hearted Nov 2019
I wish I could fuel you;
fuel me?
yeah-  fuel you.

so you would never end.
Heavy Hearted Oct 2019
The artists impartiality
Of their craft's integrity
Is their profound gift
May it set us all free-
& Vanquish all anxiety.

When each page is blank, and book empty
Its full with potential's entierity.
Our real gift is sweet opportunity
To create and contrive
Fearlessly.

Its in our art we become who we wanted to be
With truthfull eyes we garentee
That you'll one day begin to see

The artist's impartiality.
Grace & Reem
Heavy Hearted Sep 2019
“Too Little Too Late but we don’t say no…”
Why is it too much to feel?
I thought you had always known,
isn’t what scares you what makes it real?
Away, solemnly, while I now go,
a fleeting dispositions appeal;
too little too late; I still say so
as were crushed beneath the wheel.
not meant to be, when we’re not enough,
half of every truth, a hand to cuff-
Too Little Too Late but we can’t say no,
what prospects can you see?
If we both see it comin’ but still don’t go,
It’s not far enough for me;

Too little too late but we can’t talk about, the rite of ritual haze
1 on 1; start putting out, dance to dazzle and daze,
Addicted to, know I’ve become, ourselves lost in the maze
of
Burnt paper fingers,carpeted hallways,as
our heavy heads still tour the room-
tie my right hand to the ride,
too little too late, but never too soon
found poetry from the song 'Too little too late' lyrics and music by emily haines,  front woman of Metric, off their album 'Live it Out'
Heavy Hearted Sep 2019
Austin and I
Move at different speeds.

The fatal race of life we each compete
at a pace unique to ourselves.
I find myself disoriented all the time,
exiting delirium, now on a regular basis...
Each time
requiring
A reorientation
Without which myself is lost.
When each reorientation
Is less accurate than before,
it all becomes inevitablly  lost.

That initial destination I may never know.

Through the haze In my mind
Waves Austin
And in a heartbreaking protest.
Waits Austin.
in a Tribute to nostalgia-
it's Austin-
And in an intersectionally unique pain  we are connected. There, he stays.
And as I slowly, But surely,
Continue my own race-
I glance back, constantly, and his hand still waves me on-
the gift of direction..
.
Now as I lay here
Before I can rise
I force myself to record it
for a better me;
that


Austin and I-
Move at different speeds.
Heavy Hearted Aug 2019
The sincerest example
of love
Is suffering.

To suffer
For what you love;
is to understand
Passion.
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