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 Feb 2019 Lady
Lior Gavra
Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.


She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.


Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.


A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.


Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.


Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That **** mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”


The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.
This is one of the sample stories in my new book, "BitterSweet," which has become a #1 New Release on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/BitterSweet-Lior-Gavra/dp/0999497103/
 Feb 2019 Lady
Jack Jenkins
Still at this hour I love you, when sleep removes itself from me.
In the dark I let my mind visit us when we were young, happy, unsoiled by the reality that life would strain and break us.

Early April of 2012 I remember the weekend we spent almost entirely on each other's company. Mostly just talking, knowing each other. Just a few weeks before your birthday and I learned you hated gifts. I miss learning about you. Always missing you.

With all honesty not a day has passed when you haven't come into my mind and heart since we last spoke. Always praying it's not the last time we will have spoken but I know in my heart it is true.

I understand why. But I still love you. And I'm always telling you I'm sorry when we meet in my head. I never wanted to hurt you. Just needed to be needed. I'm a selfish man and I'm sorry I never told you that. I was too young to understand you and too self absorbed to look beyond me.

This is always as far as I get, talking with you in my head. I can neither bear your rejection, nor your forgiveness. So I close my eyes and wish I could hug you. And I start over again...

Still at this hour I love you, when sleep removes itself from me...
//On her//
Just needed to get this off of my heart. But my heart is still heavy. I miss her always.
 Feb 2019 Lady
zz
Heartless
 Feb 2019 Lady
zz
I offered my heart
Little by little
Piece by piece
You took it all
After you left
And now I must live heartless
 Apr 2017 Lady
Pagan Paul
.
If you happen to find a poet
hiding shyly beneath a stone.
Gently put him in your pocket
and carry him safely home.

Show him love and kindness,
take time to get to know him.
And if you smile so sweetly
he will gladly pen you a poem.

For if you hold his real value,
and recognise his true worth.
He'll look deep into your soul,
to give you the sun, moon and earth.

© Pagan Paul (05/04/17)
.
Some people know the cost of everything and the value of nothing.
PPx
.
 Apr 2017 Lady
Pagan Paul
.
Birthstones
Grave stones
Pebbles in the Stream of Time.

Birthstones
Grave stones
Grains of Sand in the Story of Stone.

© Pagan Paul (04/04/17)
.
 Apr 2017 Lady
Eve Marinier
Splatters of dark red,
On dirt canvas  littered with holes,
Such is art of war.
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