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 Aug 2021 My Dear Poet
Zoe Mae
Doll
 Aug 2021 My Dear Poet
Zoe Mae
Sometimes I wish I were dead
Or maybe in a box somewhere
You could keep me under the bed
Take me out
Dress me up
Give me air

Sometimes I wish I weren't here
Or maybe in a tree somewhere
You could shake it and I'd appear
Check my pulse
Dust me off
Brush my hair

But most times I wish I were you
Or maybe on the moon somewhere
You could scream till your face turns blue
Bring it on
Do your worst
I won't care
We're racing to our headstones and I'm leading the pack
Zero rationality left here to extract
Decided to listen to own judgement first
I admit in the past it's been the worst
My tears help me float when I collapse
Circles round my heart til I find a hold to graspt
Mind and emotions seem to disagree
Act hard because I am softer than I'd like to be
Sometimes the toughest people are the most sensitive inside
 Aug 2021 My Dear Poet
Maddy
It all comes together
Even though it is falling apart
Like a kite with broken string wanting to soar
Like a ventriloquist with a sore throat and the dummy is silenced and can't come to life
Deep inside somewhere in my mind

C@rainbowchaser2021
Furrow face, deep ruts
savage cuts that only time and years can plough
fertile grain
once waving yellow in your fields
does not remain
chaff blown brittle on the winter wind
will settle now and then on barren land
sadly turned to sand
Dementia
I will not
not because I cannot
but simply because I will not
anymore
rage
for the single cause of rage
it is not worthy
anymore.
-

nothing might happen if i put
a blank sheet of paper in front
of me and hold a pencil over it
long enough to count the number
of beats it takes for my heart to
forget why i wanted to give up
on writing—

and then i notice a teardrop
right in the center of it...


                               
                        ,





.

s jones
2021
The time has come to close your eyes
We said our I love yous and said our goodbyes
It's time to relax and let the feelings go
Don't worry about us, were stronger then you know.

It's time to see the light, and feel Gods touch
It's in Gods hands now, but please know we will miss you so much.
I wrote this poem while sitting next to my dads bedside as he was passing away. Today is 7 years that he left us in the physical world. Miss you dad 💜
 Aug 2021 My Dear Poet
Zoe Mae
I wish I could write a great piece and then chill for a few

Instead of scrounging each day to create something new

Every poem I write literally makes me jones for more

Is it the poet or the addict in me?
I really can't be sure
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