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Philip V Apr 6
around her neck

A little sister
that had to have wept.

The lonely shoes
one in the hall
the other in the bed.

An antisocial mind
her parents didn't get

The pain is gone for a body at a time
But now three more,
must get on and
survive.
Philip V Jul 2019
Takes the stride
It takes your weight
One print after the next
It makes no mistakes

You walk it to find the way
The way to clearing your name
Heavy breath and barren eyes
You speak the words to yourself
Rehearsing the lines

It’s your cross to bear
Because nobody else is there
To act out the forthcoming play
Still the road is neither forgiving
Nor condemning
It takes the weight

A son
A single one
A greater purpose
That cannot be declared

So the road understands
For many sons have walked it
And many more shall transpire
The same

Of how strange the condition of life is
The road doesn’t care
Of how frail and mischievous being is
The road doesn’t berate

The road back is persisting and weary
It’s spine torn by bushes and rosemary
It’s walks endless and more
The people who walk it
Unaware of its name
But still they walk
the same longing floor.
Philip V Jul 2019
I feel the same.
Philip V Jul 2019
Does not bleed.
Funny how some things
Are quite indifferent to how they’re perceived.

Is this my blood then?
That I watch flowing out.
Since I was a kid,
I knew only one way out.

Matter to matter,
Ashes to dust
When you’re truly gone
It’s too late to regret
Giving it up.

But let’s not end on a sad note.
Instead let us rejoice.

For truly, if a blood orange doesn’t bleed
Then the pulp must be richer than its seed.
Philip V Jul 2019
My thoughts are my cries to the world
The world of silence and solemnity
Nobody hears them
Nobody reads them
I am the only one that has to live them.

My mind is the fish tank of my thoughts
It houses them, judges them
Makes them worse than I am.

My body is the carrier of my disposition
It renders the thoughts, forgets the mind
Speaks through the heart.

What a curse this lonely existence must be.
For loved and unloved people the same.
I try.
Philip V Jul 2019
Bruises worn
Not kept

Family gotten
Not deserved

Pain endured
Never shared

Words not spoken
Barely thought

A life is given
It must be lost
Poetry thats written
But never spoken
Philip V Jul 2019
A two day leave
In a city of restless proportions
You took me from Rome
As if an empty promise

And so we walk the streets
And greet others
In broken Italian
And stumbling kindness

Its over now
But I don’t see why
So is this what love is?
A tirade so childish

Of whispers and rain
Of a heart so cursed
I wanted so much more
Than what just became

But I’ll endure

I’ll try and I’ll try
Forever as a foreigner
Replacing you for someone
Who doesn’t compare
Memories left, not taken
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