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 Jul 2017 Maxine
A Thomas Hawkins
When I close my eyes to sleep at night,
I see you lying there,
alone in bed so far away,
it just doesn't seem quite fair.

If wishes worked like magic,
that's not what I would see.
For you would be much closer,
lying next to me.

Your head would be upon my chest,
your leg draped over mine.
Softly, you'd be sleeping,
and life would be just fine.

And as I drifted off to sleep,
your arms would hold me tight.
Together we would dream the truth,
of this and every night.

That this is how we're meant to be,
together, intertwined.
Just look at all the paths we took,
each other just to find.
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 Jul 2017 Maxine
ThePoet
I'm scared of the tears

that I don't cry

The days like this

that I don't die

I'm scared of the pain

that slips my mind

It comes back harder

than what I left behind

©
 Jul 2017 Maxine
Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
 Jul 2017 Maxine
Cait Harbs
Don't worry, love,
I know those gates of stone
stand firmly
to guard the most precious parts
of your soul.

I am not here like the others;
not as a warrior
planning a siege
or a strategist
plotting to knock them down.

I respect your walls too much.

You have fought in more wars
than most;
you have been betrayed by more loves
than most could survive -
your walls are the result
of your scars.

So here I stand before you,
my weapons laid down,
my intentions spread out before the Sun,
with nothing in my hands
but open palms,
asking you
to let me in.

Show me, love,
all those terrible,
beautiful
wild flowers
growing in your garden -
I want to do nothing
but paint them to remember,
and carry their fallen petals
safely in my heart.

Open up to me, please,
my love -
I am already yours.

— The End —