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Demons come out to play every night
Dancing around my brain til first light
Delighting in my darkest dreams, laughing because I am alone
Insomnia is the closest thing to Hell I have ever known
I used to hate sleepless nights, but they are much easier now that i dont have to spend them alone
 Mar 2018 Jenovah
yúyīn
Tired..
 Mar 2018 Jenovah
yúyīn
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Youllneverunderstand me
@.**
 Mar 2018 Jenovah
Her
Immortal
 Mar 2018 Jenovah
Her
the moment a poet
falls in love with you

is the moment
you live

f o r e v e r
 Feb 2018 Jenovah
phil roberts
As I lie here
With eyes closed softly
I think deeply of you
And I inhale stars
The scent of twinkling light
So fresh and alive
Sparkling gentle inside me
And I want to write this feeling
So tentatively
As it must be
Like writing words on bubbles
Delicate and precious
Begging them not to disappear
Like dreams in the morning

                                        By Phil Roberts
This may well be my last poem here.
he'd always been a sleeper
to that he would admit
never less than 8 a night
and then he'd snooze a bit

his love of sleep found him sleeping more
9, 10, 11
the alarm was useless to him
his dreams were that of heaven

but his health began to suffer
his weight began to slip
napping more, eating less
his mind had lost it's grip

he checked in with his doctor
then a sleep disorder shrink
they gave him meds and special beds
useless
so he began to drink

11 turned to 12
and twelve to 17
he only woke to have a drink
in the wasted time between

tuesdays were quickly fridays
just blurs when he awoke
catch his ghostly figure
in the bathroom as he'd choke

the gap was slowly closing
the last stitch in the seam
he'd stepped into his perfect story
his neverending dream

they found him with a book of poems
and a grin though he'd been taken
he'd circled in ink the final passage
'never to awaken'
something that came to mind after I caught myself sleeping too much
 Jan 2018 Jenovah
Rose
hermit crab
 Jan 2018 Jenovah
Rose
i make faces at myself in the mirror and i think
"i love my wrinkles"
they add more detail to the story
i stare at myself in the mirror and embrace
"i am growing"
a delicate ******* flower
blossomed, plucked and hung to dry
no i can not turn back time
but shells left behind are still beautiful
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