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 Jun 2019 Mister J
Katinka
You
the one with messy brown hair
brown eyes
with you birthmark over the left side of your face.
You who left me crying.
You who made me believe in love for the first time.
You who stole my first kiss
first time
first.

You
with your straight blonde hair
blue eyes
and that stupid smirk
You who left me broken
You who showed me a new way of living
You who left me being second choice
second best
second.

You
with your dark blonde hair
hazel eyes
you with your beautiful hands
You who left me angry
You who showed me a different way of love
You who went with me on my third concert
third love
third.

You
with your curly brown hair
hazel eyes
with your cute braces you never liked
You who left me questioning
You who showed how hard love can be
You who decided I wasn´t worth it
You never happend
We never did.

I
with wavy dark brown hair
hazel eyes
with freckles on my face

I who loved everyone of you
but still couldnt forget you,
number two

I who loved everyone of you
but you left me wanting more,
number four

I who loved everyone of you
was being loved.
but not anymore.
Usally I write my poems on paper first, and then I will reread them and think about them, may make some changes and then upload them here. But in this very second I am just so full of emotion that I want to write and I want it to be honest so no rereading or correcting. Just me.
 Jun 2019 Mister J
Chris Saitta
I make my grave in her dark treason of hair,
Fragrant master of soldiers and memories,
Bei capelli, conspiracy of internecine curls.
Her upbraidings strangle all my sweet nothings
To breathless wish of the emperor-purple of lips.

Flow then like black gloss of birds
And the brood hatchlings of shadow, exiled eastward,
Fled like a premonition of warmth somewhere far off,
While the wine-colored blood spills his heart into a throng of mouths.

Love, you are the hardest grave,
Were you ever just a kiss
Or always from daggers made?
Porcia or Portia was second wife to Marcus Junius Brutus.  She has been speculated to be one of the few who knew of the plot against Caesar.
"Bei capelli" is translated as "beautiful hair."
 Jun 2019 Mister J
Kushal
He can hear the voices so much clearer now.
They have him at the edge.
Starring down the barrel of a loaded gun,
At the tip of the blade,
With nowhere to run.

He's drowned it all in smoke,
But the same words still can't leave his throat.
So now he stands beneath the rope.

"Help me."
His demon's have reasoned for far too long,
Now before you stands a man
With his heart long gone.
 Jun 2019 Mister J
c
Love Me Hard
 Jun 2019 Mister J
c
Please do not tell me
You love me
Because that scares me so much more
Than loving you
Ever could
 Jun 2019 Mister J
Andrea Olmos
She cannot be enough for anyone if she’s not enough for herself.
She hates her long nails, her long hair and the rest of her ******* femininity.
All she wanted to be was ideal for someone that she thought she cared for.
Does he hear her screaming through the ecstasy he feels when he caused her pain?
He gave her these beautiful insecurities to cut herself with as she thinks of him.
When it rains for hours at a time she remembers dreaming about how one day she would be one of those raindrops touching him in places no one else had before.
He led these flawless fears of starting a family with anyone else because she wanted him first.
She wanted him to want her first in every way she wanted him.
There’s this song that she listens to repeatedly because the dancing beats reminds her…
The way you would ravage her in ways no else can or will.
She’s disappointed in her younger self for being so stupidly naïve and tastefully rambunctious.
She will be writing her vows soon and years later will most likely still be at her desk writing a book she will finish about her many different ideas of love she thought she created with him.
She tells him that she’s happily frustrated with herself.
She’ll write novel after novel and hope to catch a little attention even though she has more than enough with her guy.
 Apr 2019 Mister J
Vera Anne Wolf
...
Mark me with your teachings
In the dark place of my mind.
Hallowed by the seasons
Only hatred you will find.
You burned me for your pleasure
Melted flesh from off my bones.
Only to find that I’m immortal
And there’s no way left to atone.

’Cause the Devil’s got a hold of me
I’m a wicked thing can’t you see.
Let’s not talk about conspiracy
You’ve been playing wicked games on me.

You paint me as a demon
A wayward child of the night.
Just to silence the true reason
I have fallen to this plight.
You paid highly for the pleasure
Of consuming flesh and sin.
Now you’re poisoned by the toxins
That have nurtured deep within.

‘Cause the Devil’s got a hold of me
I’m a wicked thing can’t you see.
Let’s not talk about conspiracy
You’ve been playing wicked games on me.

Hush now sweet one
Don’t you cry
If a witch should look you
In the eye...

©veraannewolf
 Apr 2019 Mister J
Rue
April is full of beauty
when water arrives from evening storms;
They bring life to us truly,
with that, our planet transforms.
Seeing Spring arrive is so beautiful.
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