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When I pat the kitty
it always starts to purr
it really seems to like it
it causes quite a stir

When the kitty's happy
it fills my heart with joy
next time we're together
I'll bring a special toy

I'll rub it nice forever
that kitty I love to touch
the kitty lets me know
when the rubbing is to much

The kitty I will rub
until the very end
I'm so glad the kitty
is my special friend
Distantly staring
I slowly begin to cry
I find myself wondering
Is this the last goodbye?

As you start to leave
I silently begin to pray
dear Lord bring her back to me
at the end of this day

Over the years we've grown close
inseparable we two
Oh my god what if something terrible
should happen to you

We'll be in love forever
until the very end
The thing I'm most thankful for
you are my best friend

Your love penetrates me down
to my very soul
It fills the emptiness inside me
no longer a black hole

I'll sit and wait forever
till you are by my side
Every second till we're together
will be how many tears I've cried
Starving soul, hungry for communication
Parched heart, thirsty for a connection
Saturate me with your love
Fill me with your happiness
Remind me that I'm not alone
Tell me the glass was never half empty
As I know you want me full
I see you as I see you, not as you want me to
Wrapped in skin so velvet soft
Kissed with a dark red bow placed on top
Of your dark wavy hair
Perfect in contrast to
Your porcelain complexion

I see you every day
In the corners of my eyes
In the forefront of my mind
In my wildest dreams and
My darkest nights
Strange scenarios where I die
Only to be resurrected by you
Because losing me was a pain
So profound and world shattering
The tears you cried became the elixir of life

Be my friend
Be my lover
I can be whatever you need
Or whatever you want me to be
Provided that, me being that
Is always just me being me
That feeling of a desire to connect with someone.
Wanting them to want you or need you too.
 Apr 2016 PandaLyn
J Foster
Damaged good are always on sale
In every store, whether resale or retail
No one wants something that’s broken down
Except for when they see that certain person walking around town.
She is shattered and mangled, but not on the surface
A beautiful sight, her eyes lit like a furnace.
She sells herself, but not for ***
What’s given away is more complex.
The idea of being wanted is too far gone,
Like her dignity which left her for so long.
So she lives her life always seeming distraught,
But really it’s only because of her thoughts.
They consume her mind and swallow her whole,
And every day it takes its toll.
She is worn and broken, and it’s clear to see
What once was so beautiful, wild, and free
Is now in the past, she can’t help but reminisce
The days that were once so grand and full of bliss.
She gave up when she gazed in the mirror,
Seeing what couldn’t be any clearer.
She’s still the same person that she once was,
Except now she’s in the prison which does
Consume her mind, her heart, and intent
For her sins she feels she must repent.
Her past is one that no one would yearn,
And to this day the thought still burns.
If not for that single mistake
Then to this day his heart wouldn’t have a break.
She sold herself, but nothing is new
For it has happened to all of us a time or two.
We sell ourselves short in all that we do,
But what we must remember is that there are very few
People in this world that remain pure and true.
All the rest are damaged at best,
And in the end it’s what separates them from the rest.
I discount myself, but I will never be sold
On any ideas that I have ever been told.
When I get put down, what people don’t realize is that I have already found
The worst critic on this planet, the one sitting down
Writing this poem and filling your thoughts,
Making you feel like that damaged box.
Perspective Boxes Damaged Goods Complex ***
 Apr 2016 PandaLyn
Pixievic
There you are ......
A lump
A lump of the kind that strikes fear in the breast of every woman
Hiding
Growing inside me
Like an embryonic cancer
Or a cyst
Or a symptom of age
Whatever you are
You're here .....
And I wish you weren't
I go about my mindless life
Left waiting to discover if I'm just
Old
Infected
or
Dying .....

(C) Pixievic
I debated as to whether to post this or not - it is not a plea for sympathy - more that I'm dealing with it on my own as in my 'real' life only 4 people know ...... It's what poetry is for right - to tell you lot the things I can't tell anyone else!!
 Apr 2016 PandaLyn
Li
I've grown
accustomed
to saying sorry
even if it's not my fault
to saying thank you
when given pain
to accepting defeat
before the game
to walk away
because I was never
needed to stay.

I've grown
accustomed
to the opposites
all my life
I've lived like this

and I grew up
knowing I will
always be wrong

maybe
they needed someone
to blame
maybe
they needed someone
to carry all the weight

and no matter how hard I fight
I'll always be on the losing side.
 Apr 2016 PandaLyn
George Anthony
my ex wants me back.
i don't want her.
there she is, once again,
waiting, whispering
working her way into my cracks
winding me up and worsening my wounds,
whittling me into weaker wood

she makes me feel like i can't live without her
and the irony isn't lost on me.
she cradles me at stupid, sleepless hours
and serenades me with sweet, sweet symphonies
of everlasting silence,
songs of sempiternal slumber

i know my insomnia gets the better of me but
i don't want to sleep that badly
or maybe i do sometimes
but i think my mother would want me to wake up
maybe my friends, too
and no, she would never let me
she'd want to keep me, you see

my ex likes me in her bed,
it's her favourite place to have me
some call that vanilla but they don't know the things she does to me
when her lips brush my wrists
and that one time they teased my neck
******* it, she drives me crazy
has me ******* the sheets and sobbing into the pillows
my screams so loud, i choke
and lose my voice

sometimes my veins start pulsing with need
and she makes it so tempting,
slender fingers slipping over my skin,
sliding over my spine
"do it", she says
i want to submit to her, show her how much of a hold she has on me- no
i don't, i don't, i can't, i won't

my ex wants me back
but i don't want her.
i let her have her way with me
under the covers,
my sweet, sadistic lover
and then i turn my back on her
and sleep until the sun comes up to remind me
lightness still remains even if the darkness lasts longer.
 Apr 2016 PandaLyn
Jamie Lee
She peers out the glass,
at the bright blue sky,
into the sun's warmth...
She is alive, and breathing.

Thoughts flutter, and
images flicker behind
her vacant stare.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Slowly, she begins to ascend.

Her head tilted upwards,
her arms slack at her sides,
as the palm of her hands extend,
welcoming the unknown.

She becomes the center of view,
raised above the plains;
she spins around and around.

Like the wind, softly blowing ashes
from the hot coals of a fire;
her flesh tears away in pieces.

Piece by piece, she is exposed.

As she disintegrates;
her blood drawn by gravity,
spills out like rain drops.

High pitch screams,
fill the ears of those,
close and far.

Screams above mortal pain.
Unlike any torture, the
human body can endure.

Screams that raise every hair;
that stop the heart from beating,
for a second too long.

Screams that cannot be,
labelled or identified.

The world will bare witness;
while in their confusion,
they are still, with feeling.

The faces beneath,
stare above in disbelief;
absolute horror.

The sky ... now empty.
Traces left behind,
in blood.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Abruptly, she surfaces
behind her glazed eyes.

Still peering out the window,
she thinks;* "My life is good."

I have a home; a family.
I have food to eat,
and love in my life.

*Yet, thoughts flutter,
and images still flicker.
Copyright © 2016 Jamie Johnson
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