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 Dec 2019 Laci Joanne
Meera
He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come
That's how true poetry comes into existence
 Nov 2019 Laci Joanne
lena k
"no."
 Nov 2019 Laci Joanne
lena k
you stole my light
when i told you to stop
and you ignored my red light
and kept going
like my body was undiscovered land
and you were a colonizer.
perhaps my asking you to stop
turned you on
made you hungry.
you looked at me with your hungry eyes
like i was fresh meat
for you to take and have for yourself
ignoring my stop signs
cries
screams
because i am nothing more
than an object to you
made for your manipulation and pleasures.
consent is key
and i don't even know if i want to kiss your lips or just your skin
because i'm
     falling
       falling
         falling
           falling
         falling
       falling
     falling
but i don't want to hit the ground again.
are you sure your arms can hold the weight of my love when it's wrapped in wet clothes?
and are you sure it's the best idea to take this where the wind goes?
i'm not yet sure if love is a real thing
it's just a
   beautiful
  fictional
deadly
play,
and you still kiss me like i'm sane
but i know it's all just another game
so don't be surprised if i refuse to participate.
and you're like a
         cynical
           patronizing
             inconsiderate
           impartial
         callous
song,
but your vicious words still gently drag me along.
and i'm not sure if you're really toxic
or it's just all in my head.
because
i love you
love you
ove you
ve you
e you
you
ou
u
or maybe i love when you're in my bed.
there's a difference between someone telling you they love you and them actually loving you
i haven't figured it out yet though
Pain is an ugly thing
Wounds bleed dark
They stink if they get infected
Scars form

You would not think
Emotional pain is worse
But it lasts longer
And suffering unnoticed
Can be more humiliating
When you have no badge of honor
For others to see

It hurts me to see others suffer
Typical (or maybe not so common)
Guy that I am
I want to fix it and make it go away

So hard to listen
But that is often what you need

I can empathize with you
Not pretend I know the depths of your hurt

Tell me your story
If all I can do is listen...

I will be here for you

You may have to help me resist the temptation to give advice
For a moment
pretend you pulled aside
the GREY DARK CURTAIN

Look with me...

Carved into a timeless oak
is the night-wolf
Your Friend
Guardian as you cross

Unexpectedly
    He
        Passes
             to
                                     YOU
t h e w h i t e  T-O-R-C-H
   you hear his whisper:
       Do not fear

As you emerge beyond the curtain
    All of it is: Purpose
More than dream

We are all Born
naked
We all Die
naked

Our nakedness is not a mark of shame, but of a return to perfection

Smile
Breathe deep for me
Close your eyes
Look within

IT IS NOT EMPTY
for kindled there by angels is the flame of love


no, I don't know
yet I understand

All of us connected
--Each of us
     Spirit
                                 O - N - E
I give this gift of hope to you

Do not despair
Do not give up
  just
          touch

                             I    N
                       A               B
                 R                        O
        E                             ­          W
   H                                             ...                                      
T                                                      It's there for a reason - REMEMBER
Probably one of the first times I have written poetry while just a bit 420 buzzed

— The End —