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 May 2021 SuperNova
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 Apr 2021 SuperNova
a secret
 Apr 2021 SuperNova
it's hard to say out loud
or admit to anyone
that my heart still thinks of you
because not one person
can make me feel the spark i felt when i was with you
i hate myself every time i think of you, but the ending of our story just wasn't fair.
 Jul 2019 SuperNova
Leave me alone.
I don't want comfort.

I don't want such holy water
Over these wounds I caused to myself.
I won't want your uplift
When this weight on my shoulder keeps sinking me down.

Why do you want to play with me?
Why are you still here?

Leave me alone.

What else do I do? Lie to myself that I'm useful?
Sweetness stays for awhile before everything returns to bitterness.
Your comfort can only sweeten so much of the bitterness of my uselessness.

Leave me alone.
I went on a breakdown after multiple problems in a week, both in life and in games.
 May 2019 SuperNova
i was alone
within a crowded room
when it came for me
i could feel it lurking
amongst the deadened souls
and its amber eyes
disguised themselves as comfort
to pierce through my flesh

its hands looked like yours
but embraced my neck
and as they tightened their grasp
its talon fingers
reached towards my flooding eyes
and traced a path down my cheek
carving skin in the pattern of a waterfall

it fastened chains
around my chest
and invisible serpents
slithered their way into my lungs
their vile breath
stealing the air within them

and as my nails began to dig
to hide from the monster
buried beneath my skin
the indolent world around me
gave no second glance
for my screams were silent

 May 2019 SuperNova
she was the moon
radiating the night sky
and dancing among the stars

you were the darkness
the shadow that waxed and waned
through the phases of her life

she grew to believe
that your presence
is what made her whole

but like the full moon
she shone brightest
without you

 Dec 2018 SuperNova
I miss that look in your eyes
The one you used to always give me
I miss the way we talked
Because no one else understood me as you did
We were meant to be together
But jealousy and lies got in the way
And even our own friends couldn't stand how happy we were
It made them sick
And they couldn't take it anymore
So they had to destroy
But they weren't the only reasons why
The flame we had eventually died
Because you couldn’t seem to keep your head ******* on
And I wasn’t able to loosen mines at all
And what was inseparable was now separated
And distanced
No longer knowing one another
Like we did
Ten years ago
When high school was our everything
But the bills became to be too much
And the deaths were too heavy
The scares took a toll
And the miscarriage is what ended it all
You see
We let everything get between
And there is no more us
But we both sit on the phone
Thumb over our contacts
Too prideful to press call
But tired of weeping and being alone
We know that no one else could ever
Fill the holes from shots that we blew at one another
Forever you are mine
As I am yours
This is my love letter to you
My soulmate,
My love,

I intentionally failed to wish you
a happy birthday this year,
though I know significant dates,
hours, moments, people,
by heart.
I still search for you in boys
I mistake for bandages,
the ones with eyes almost
the same shade of your hazels,
lips resounding your laughter,
resembling a wisp of your smile,
But they aren't you.


Sometimes I pretend you're dead,
because it's less painful
to stop reaching out into voids.


My mom still blames you
for everything that preceded that year.
Though you probably had no idea what happened
when we stopped talking altogether.
Can you believe it's almost been three years?


My dad wonders who was my 'one that got away'
Though, I'm pretty sure he knows
it's you.


Remember how I mentioned Sylvia Plath?
How most everything she wrote
brimmed with melancholy?
How I loved every single word?
Especially that piece
where she talked about expectations
and disappointments.
You'll never know that
up to this day I still think
people are selfish enough to
always, eventually turn into the latter.
Even you.


It's sad I never got the chance
to tell you about Ted.
How she loved him so much,
she just had to dive headfirst
into the flames-- burning herself,
what was left of her--
after she found out
he never really loved her
the same way
she loved him
in the first place.


truth is,
some of us
never learn to accept
the love we think we deserve.


I don't know if you still read my poems
or if you still think about me,
about us, sometimes.
Every time you fall asleep past eleven,
a part of me hopes you do.
because I always remember you--
in birthday candles, red ribbons,
off-tune voice records, golden arches,
concrete sidewalks, pedestrian lanes,
the last flickers of city lights
softly fading out of the blue.
I remember you
in everything, in everywhere,
in everyone.
It's useless, no matter how much I try to forget.
No matter how much I just want to forget.
I want to forget.

But, how could I?

When forgetting means forsaking
the very memory of you.
your love runs dry
it always rains
you’re the reason
for my worst days
the blues I choose
the shades of gray
you paint the sky
on my darkest days
I hate you most
but I hate the way
you’re still the sun
on my perfect days
 Nov 2018 SuperNova
I carry a rose
A beaut among the thorns;
I carry and carry
for the love I bear dearly.

Oh my journey was painful,
through storms and droughts I go,
I care not for calamity,
I care only for my noble journey;

But alas,
The rose,
Once red, now withered brown,
the green stem now a dry lump of a stick,
and the leaves dried and flew with the wind.

But I care not,
I place it down,
I place it down from where you've rest,
Then I as well, took my rest.

And with my deed done,
I shook my head and left,
And I left the rose from where you've rest,
But I know to myself,
and to the coming times I tell,
I carry a rose,
And it was beautiful like you.
Some poem I forgotten to oblivion I found at my shelf, thought I may share ;)
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