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 Apr 2020 Josephine Wilea
Ross
And this morning,
I woke up in utter denial
About what had happened.

But when the first rays of sunlight
Ever so subtly tickled my eyelids,
And i never felt your warm embrace,
I knew.

I knew you had moved on
greener pastures.

Tell me one thing:
When?

When was it,
That your affection for me
Became so dry, dusty and arid?
When did you soothe yourself
With purposeful amnesia,
In the case of
Unburdening your heavy conscience
Of our passionate memories?
 Apr 2020 Josephine Wilea
PS
secret.
 Apr 2020 Josephine Wilea
PS
Well beneath my sarcasm
My hatred for the world

There is a different story waiting
Waiting to be told

For I am made of poetry
Of sunsets
And the moon

Of summer rain
And chocolate smell
And nights that end too soon

It's hidden well
It's out of sight
It's on you to find the key

For my fragile little world,
My dear,
Is not for everyone, you see?
 Apr 2020 Josephine Wilea
Her
as a child
my parents
kept me

well mannered
well traveled
they have given me
an abundance
of materialistic
objects

but

that is all
anything
ever was
an object

maybe
that is why
i cannot
connect to people

because we are

all just objects
We don't love us anymore
All our screaming fits are over
I watched you cry til you were sober
And that's exactly what we are
Sober and over

Everyone said it wasn't easy
But the truth is, the lies were very cozy
And your fake smiles made me feel less lonely
But the truth is bound to die
I'm just alone
This is actually the first verse of a song I've written
 Apr 2020 Josephine Wilea
Astral
You told me
"You could do better."
But all I could think of was
"Why would I?"
 Mar 2020 Josephine Wilea
Jackal
Words spill from my mouth in a constant flow of black sludge.
My ribs shake as wind blows through my hollowed bones.
I am exploding and caving in on myself
all the same

As emotions take over and
I am left to my own devices because
There is no one to save me

The hardest pill to swallow
Is the drug that says I did this to myself.

Now all I can do is lie here and waste away
As the mushrooms and bugs take over
Consuming what once was living me
And returning my flesh to the dust from whence it came

So juvenile, my language is
When trying to describe the torment i feel
That grows with each passing day

And yet here  i sit,
Desperately trying to piece some semblance of
Art from this
Horrible mashed up plea

And you're still reading,
But at what cost?
A soliloquy from the ******.

I have stolen minutes from your life
And yet still you continue
As the corpse screams in your face

You tread on..
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